Upon Rasp. Epig.

Rasp plays at nine-holes; and 'tis known he gets
Many a tester by his game and bets:
But of his gettings there's but little sign;
When one hole wastes more than he gets by nine.

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

Poetry Perpetuates The Poet.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Vulcan.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Fone A Schoolmaster. Epig.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Our Own Sins Unseen.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Upon Prickles. Epig.

Prickles is waspish, and puts forth his sting
For bread, drink, butter, cheese; for everything
That Prickles buys puts Prickles out of frame;
How well his nature's fitted to his name!

Robert Herrick

Upon Mease. Epig.

Mease brags of pullets which he eats: but Mease
Ne'er yet set tooth in stump or rump of these.

Robert Herrick

Upon Rump.

Rump is a turn-broach, yet he seldom can
Steal a swoln sop out of a dripping-pan.

Robert Herrick

Upon Glasco. Epig.

Glasco had none, but now some teeth has got;
Which though they fur, will neither ache or rot.
Six teeth he has, whereof twice two are known
Made of a haft that was a mutton bone.
Which not for use, but merely for the sight,
He wears all day, and draws those teeth at night.

Robert Herrick

Upon Ralph.

Ralph pares his nails, his warts, his corns, and Ralph
In sev'rall tills and boxes, keeps 'em safe;
Instead of hartshorn, if he speaks the troth,
To make a lusty-jelly for his broth.

Robert Herrick

His Grange, Or Private Wealth

Though clock,
To tell how night draws hence, I've none,
A cock
I have to sing how day draws on:
I have
A maid, my Prue, by good luck sent,
To save
That little, Fates me gave or lent.
A hen
I keep, which, creeking day by day,
Tells when
She goes her long white egg to lay:
A goose
I have, which, with a jealous ear,
Lets loose
Her tongue, to tell what danger's near.
A lamb
I keep, tame, with my morsels fed,
Whose dam
An orphan left him, lately dead:
A cat
I keep, that plays about my house,
Grown fat
With eating many a miching mouse:
To these
A Trasy I do keep, whereby
I please
The more my rural privacy:
Which are
But toys, to give my heart some ease:
Where care
None is, slight things do li...

Robert Herrick