Smart.

Stripes, justly given, yerk us with their fall;
But causeless whipping smarts the most of all.

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

Happiness To Hospitality; Or, A Hearty Wish To Good Housekeeping.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Julia In The Temple.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

True Friendship.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Ursley.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Foolishness.

In's Tusc'lans, Tully doth confess,
No plague there's like to foolishness.

Robert Herrick

Wit Punished Prospers Most

Dread not the shackles; on with thine intent,
Good wits get more fame by their punishment.

Robert Herrick

Best To Be Merry.

Fools are they who never know
How the times away do go;
But for us, who wisely see
Where the bounds of black death be,
Let's live merrily, and thus
Gratify the Genius.

Robert Herrick

Clemency.

For punishment in war it will suffice
If the chief author of the faction dies;
Let but few smart, but strike a fear through all;
Where the fault springs there let the judgment fall.

Robert Herrick

The Country Life:

TO THE HONOURED MR ENDYMION PORTER, GROOM OF
THE BED-CHAMBER TO HIS MAJESTY

Sweet country life, to such unknown,
Whose lives are others', not their own!
But serving courts and cities, be
Less happy, less enjoying thee.
Thou never plough'st the ocean's foam
To seek and bring rough pepper home:
Nor to the Eastern Ind dost rove
To bring from thence the scorched clove:
Nor, with the loss of thy loved rest,
Bring'st home the ingot from the West.
No, thy ambition's master-piece
Flies no thought higher than a fleece:
Or how to pay thy hinds, and clear
All scores: and so to end the year:
But walk'st about thine own dear bounds,
Not envying others' larger grounds:
For well thou know'st, 'tis not th' extent
Of land makes life, but sweet content.

Robert Herrick

The Recompense.

All I have lost that could be rapt from me;
And fare it well: yet, Herrick, if so be
Thy dearest Saviour renders thee but one
Smile, that one smile's full restitution.

Robert Herrick