The End Of His Work.

Part of the work remains; one part is past:
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.

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

To His Kinswoman, Mrs. Penelope Wheeler.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

A Canticle To Apollo

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Of Love: A Sonnet

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Canticle To Apollo

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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The End.

If well thou hast begun, go on fore-right;
It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.

Robert Herrick

Upon His Departure Hence.

Thus I
Pass by,
And die:
As one
Unknown
And gone:
I'm made
A shade,
And laid
I' th' grave:
There have
My cave,
Where tell
I dwell.
Farewell.

Robert Herrick

On His Book.

The bound, almost, now of my book I see,
But yet no end of these therein, or me:
Here we begin new life, while thousands quite
Are lost, and theirs, in everlasting night.

Robert Herrick

The Parting Verse, The Feast There Ended.

Loth to depart, but yet at last each one
Back must now go to's habitation;
Not knowing thus much when we once do sever,
Whether or no that we shall meet here ever.
As for myself, since time a thousand cares
And griefs hath filed upon my silver hairs,
'Tis to be doubted whether I next year
Or no shall give ye a re-meeting here.
If die I must, then my last vow shall be,
You'll with a tear or two remember me.
Your sometime poet; but if fates do give
Me longer date and more fresh springs to live,
Oft as your field shall her old age renew,
Herrick shall make the meadow-verse for you.

Robert Herrick

The End.

Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;
'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

Robert Herrick

An End Decreed.

Let's be jocund while we may,
All things have an ending day;
And when once the work is done,
Fates revolve no flax they've spun.

Robert Herrick