To Silvia.

No more, my Silvia, do I mean to pray
For those good days that ne'er will come away.
I want belief; O gentle Silvia, be
The patient saint, and send up vows for me.

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

Good Precepts, Or Counsel

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Cherry-Pit

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Quintell.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Flattery.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

To Silvia.

I am holy while I stand
Circum-crost by thy pure hand;
But when that is gone, again
I, as others, am profane.

Robert Herrick

To Silvia To Wed

Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed;
And loving lie in one devoted bed.
Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post haste;
No sound calls back the year that once is past.
Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay;
True love, we know, precipitates delay.
Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove!
No man, at one time, can be wise, and love.

Robert Herrick

Upon Silvia, A Mistress.

When some shall say, Fair once my Silvia was,
Thou wilt complain, False now's thy looking-glass,
Which renders that quite tarnished which was green,
And priceless now what peerless once had been.
Upon thy form more wrinkles yet will fall,
And, coming down, shall make no noise at all.

Robert Herrick

A Song Upon Silvia.

From me my Silvia ran away,
And running therewithal
A primrose bank did cross her way,
And gave my love a fall.

But trust me now, I dare not say
What I by chance did see;
But such the drap'ry did betray
That fully ravished me.

Robert Herrick

To Silvia

Pardon my trespass, Silvia! I confess
My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefacedness:
None is discreet at all times; no, not Jove
Himself, at one time, can be wise and love.

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