Upon One Lily, Who Married With A Maid Called Rose.

What times of sweetness this fair day foreshows,
Whenas the Lily marries with the Rose!
What next is look'd for? but we all should see
To spring from thee a sweet posterity.

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 The Ladies.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Anthea.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

On Himself.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Bungy.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Upon Roses

Under a lawn, than skies more clear,
Some ruffled Roses nestling were,
And snugging there, they seem'd to lie
As in a flowery nunnery;
They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers
Quickened of late by pearly showers;
And all, because they were possest
But of the heat of Julia's breast,
Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring,
Gave them their ever-flourishing.

Robert Herrick

To The Rose: A Song

Go, happy Rose, and interwove
With other flowers, bind my Love.
Tell her, too, she must not be
Longer flowing, longer free,
That so oft has fetter'd me.

Say, if she's fretful, I have bands
Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands;
Tell her, if she struggle still,
I have myrtle rods at will,
For to tame, though not to kill.

Take thou my blessing thus, and go
And tell her this, but do not so!
Lest a handsome anger fly
Like a lightning from her eye,
And burn thee up, as well as I!

Robert Herrick

Upon His Kinswoman, Mistress Bridget Herrick.

Sweet Bridget blush'd, and therewithal
Fresh blossoms from her cheeks did fall.
I thought at first 'twas but a dream,
Till after I had handled them
And smelt them, then they smelt to me
As blossoms of the almond tree.

Robert Herrick

Upon The Nipples Of Julia's Breast

Have ye beheld (with much delight)
A red rose peeping through a white?
Or else a cherry (double graced)
Within a lily? Centre placed?
Or ever marked the pretty beam
A strawberry shows half drowned in cream?
Or seen rich rubies blushing through
A pure smooth pearl, and orient too?
So like to this, nay all the rest,
Is each neat niplet of her breast.

Robert Herrick

A Nuptial Verse To Mistress Elizabeth Lee, Now Lady Tracy.

Spring with the lark, most comely bride, and meet
Your eager bridegroom with auspicious feet.
The morn's far spent, and the immortal sun
Corals his cheek to see those rites not done.
Fie, lovely maid! indeed you are too slow,
When to the temple Love should run, not go.
Dispatch your dressing then, and quickly wed;
Then feast, and coy't a little, then to bed.
This day is Love's day, and this busy night
Is yours, in which you challenged are to fight
With such an arm'd, but such an easy foe,
As will, if you yield, lie down conquer'd too.
The field is pitch'd, but such must be your wars,
As that your kisses must outvie the stars.
Fall down together vanquished both, and lie
Drown'd in the blood of rubies there, not die.

Robert Herrick

To Rosemary And Bays.

My wooing's ended: now my wedding's near
When gloves are giving, gilded be you there.

Robert Herrick