The publisher's freak, by which Herrick's three chief Fairy poems ("The Fairy Temple; or, Oberon's Chapel," "Oberon's Feast," and "Oberon's Palace") are separated from each other, is greatly to be regretted. The last two, both ...
Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; But we must on, As fate does lead or draw us; none,...
Dearest of thousands, now the time draws near That with my lines my life must full-stop here. Cut off thy hairs, and let thy tears be shed Over my turf when I am buried....
Give me a man that is not dull, When all the world with rifts is full; But unamazed dares clearly sing, When as the roof's a-tottering; And though it falls, continues still...
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...
Be those few hours, which I have yet to spend, Blest with the meditation of my end; Though they be few in number, I'm content; If otherwise, I stand indifferent, Nor makes it matter, Nestor's years to tell,...
When I did go from thee I felt that smart Which bodies do when souls from them depart. Thou did'st not mind it; though thou then might'st see Me turn'd to tears; yet did'st not weep for me....
Fill me my wine in crystal; thus, and thus I see't in's puris naturalibus: Unmix'd. I love to have it smirk and shine; 'Tis sin I know, 'tis sin to throttle wine. What madman's he, that when it sparkles so,...
Night hides our thefts, all faults then pardon'd be; All are alike fair when no spots we see. Lais and Lucrece in the night-time are Pleasing alike, alike both singular:...
Ere I go hence and be no more Seen to the world, I'll give the score I owe unto a female child, And that is this, a verse enstyled My daughter's dowry; having which,...
'Tis not ev'ry day that I Fitted am to prophesy: No, but when the spirit fills The fantastic pannicles, Full of fire, then I write As the Godhead doth indite. Thus enraged, my lines are hurl'd,...
Partly work and partly play Ye must on S. Distaff's day: From the plough soon free your team, Then come home and fodder them. If the maids a-spinning go, Burn the flax and fire the tow;...