The Lamp.

When a man's faith is frozen up, as dead;
Then is the lamp and oil extinguished.

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 M. Henry Lawes, The Excellent Composer Of His Lyrics.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

A Ternary Of Littles, Upon A Pipkin Of Jelly Sent To A Lady.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Multitude.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Departure Of The Good Demon.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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The Lamp

If I can bear your love like a lamp before me,
When I go down the long steep Road of Darkness,
I shall not fear the everlasting shadows,
Nor cry in terror.

If I can find out God, then I shall find Him,
If none can find Him, then I shall sleep soundly,
Knowing how well on earth your love sufficed me,
A lamp in darkness.

Sara Teasdale

Let Your Light So Shine.

Sometimes, O Lord, thou lightest in my head
    A lamp that well might pharos all the lands;
Anon the light will neither rise nor spread:
    Shrouded in danger gray the beacon stands!

A pharos? Oh dull brain! poor dying lamp
    Under a bushel with an earthy smell!
Mouldering it stands, in rust and eating damp,
    While the slow oil keeps oozing from its cell!

For me it were enough to be a flower
    Knowing its root in thee, the Living, hid,
Ordained to blossom at the appointed hour,
    And wake or sleep as thou, my Nature, bid;

But hear my brethren in their darkling fright!
    Hearten my lamp that it may shine abroad
Then will they cry--Lo, there is something bright!
    Who kindled it if not the shining God?

George MacDonald

Dependence.

To keep the lamp alive,
With oil we fill the bowl;
Tis water makes the willow thrive,
And grace that feeds the soul.


The Lords unsparing hand
Supplies the living stream;
It is not at our own command,
But still derived from him.


Beware of Peters word,^[1]
Nor confidently say,
I never will deny thee, Lord,
But, Grant I never may!


Mans wisdom is to seek
His strength in God alone;
And een an angel would be weak,
Who trusted in his own.


Retreat beneath his wings,
And in his grace confide;
This more exalts the King of kings^[2]
Than all your works beside.


In Jesus is our store,
Grace issues from his throne;
Whoever says, I want no more,
Confe...

William Cowper

His Dream.

I dreamt, last night, Thou didst transfuse
Oil from Thy jar into my cruse;
And pouring still Thy wealthy store,
The vessel full did then run o'er;
Methought I did Thy bounty chide
To see the waste; but 'twas replied
By Thee, dear God, God gives man seed
Ofttimes for waste, as for his need.
Then I could say that house is bare
That has not bread and some to spare.

Robert Herrick

Upon Himself.

I lately fri'd, but now behold
I freeze as fast, and shake for cold.
And in good faith I'd thought it strange
T' have found in me this sudden change;
But that I understood by dreams
These only were but Love's extremes;
Who fires with hope the lover's heart,
And starves with cold the self-same part.

Robert Herrick

Upon Himself

Thou shalt not all die; for while Love's fire shines
Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines;
And learn'd musicians shall, to honour Herrick's
Fame, and his name, both set and sing his lyrics.

To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:--
Jocund his Muse was, but his Life was chaste.

Robert Herrick