Silence.

Suffer thy legs, but not thy tongue to walk:
God, the Most Wise, is sparing of His talk.

Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is known for his book of poems, "Hesperides," which includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time." His works are noted for their clarity, simplicity, and musical quality. Herrick was also a vicar of Dean Prior in Devon, despite being ejected during the English Civil War and later reinstated.

Robert Herrick

Upon Jack And Jill. Epig.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Be Merry

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

On Hymn To The Muse

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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To God.

God is all sufferance here; here He doth show
No arrow nockt, only a stringless bow:
His arrows fly, and all His stones are hurl'd
Against the wicked in another world.

Robert Herrick

To God.

Thou hast promis'd, Lord, to be
With me in my misery;
Suffer me to be so bold
As to speak, Lord, say and hold.

Robert Herrick

To God.

Come to me, God; but do not come
To me as to the General Doom
In power; or come Thou in that state
When Thou Thy laws did'st promulgate,
Whenas the mountain quaked for dread,
And sullen clouds bound up his head.
No; lay Thy stately terrors by
To talk with me familiarly;
For if Thy thunder-claps I hear,
I shall less swoon than die for fear.
Speak Thou of love and I'll reply
By way of Epithalamy,
Or sing of mercy and I'll suit
To it my viol and my lute;
Thus let Thy lips but love distil,
Then come, my God, and hap what will.

Robert Herrick

Another To God.

Lord, do not beat me,
Since I do sob and cry,
And swoon away to die,
Ere Thou dost threat me.
Lord, do not scourge me,
If I by lies and oaths
Have soil'd myself or clothes,
But rather purge me.

Robert Herrick

Good Precepts Or Counsel.

In all thy need be thou possess'd
Still with a well-prepared breast;
Nor let the shackles make thee sad;
Thou canst but have what others had.
And this for comfort thou must know
Times that are ill won't still be so.
Clouds will not ever pour down rain;
A sullen day will clear again.
First peals of thunder we must hear,
Then lutes and harps shall stroke the ear.

Robert Herrick

The Goodness Of His God.

When winds and seas do rage
And threaten to undo me,
Thou dost, their wrath assuage
If I but call unto Thee.

A mighty storm last night
Did seek my soul to swallow,
But by the peep of light
A gentle calm did follow.

What need I then despair,
Though ills stand round about me;
Since mischiefs neither dare
To bark or bite without Thee?

Robert Herrick