Works

An old, old widow Greedy needs would wed,
Not for affection to her or her bed;
But in regard, 'twas often said, this old
Woman would bring him more than could be told....

Groynes, for his fleshly burglary of late,
Stood in the holy forum candidate;
The word is Roman; but in English known:
Penance, and standing so, are both but one.

Grubs loves his wife and children, while that they
Can live by love, or else grow fat by play;
But when they call or cry on Grubs for meat,
Instead of bread Grubs gives them stones to eat....

Grudgings turns bread to stones, when to the poor
He gives an alms, and chides them from his door.

Gryll eats, but ne'er says grace; to speak the truth,
Gryll either keeps his breath to cool his broth,
Or else, because Gryll's roast does burn his spit,
Gryll will not therefore say a grace for it.

Gubbs calls his children kitlings: and would bound,
Some say, for joy, to see those kitlings drown'd.

Guess cuts his shoes, and limping, goes about
To have men think he's troubled with the gout;
But 'tis no gout, believe it, but hard beer,
Whose acrimonious humour bites him here.

Science puffs up, says Gut, when either pease
Make him thus swell, or windy cabbages.

See how the poor do waiting stand
For the expansion of thy hand.
A wafer dol'd by thee will swell
Thousands to feed by miracle.

When Julia blushes she does show
Cheeks like to roses when they blow.

Clear are her eyes,
Like purest skies;
Discovering from thence
A baby there
That turns each sphere,
Like an Intelligence.

Her pretty feet
Like snails did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they played at Bo-peep,
Did soon draw in again.

Let but thy voice engender with the string,
And angels will be born while thou dost sing.

She wept upon her cheeks, and weeping so,
She seem'd to quench love's fire that there did glow.

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.
...

Mop-eyed I am, as some have said,
Because I've lived so long a maid:
But grant that I should wedded be,
Should I a jot the better see?
No, I should think that marriage might,...

Let me sleep this night away,
Till the dawning of the day;
Then at th' opening of mine eyes
I, and all the world, shall rise.

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.

Vulcan, contrive me such a cup
As Nestor used of old;
Show all thy skill to trim it up,
Damask it round with gold.

Make it so large that, filled with sack
Up to the swelling brim,...

I begin to wane in sight;
Shortly I shall bid good-night:
Then no gazing more about,
When the tapers once are out.