All things decay with time: The forest sees The growth and down-fall of her aged trees; That timber tall, which three-score lustres stood The proud dictator of the state-like wood,...
Adverse and prosperous fortunes both work on Here, for the righteous man's salvation; Be he oppos'd, or be he not withstood, All serve to th' augmentation of his good.
While the milder fates consent, Let's enjoy our merriment : Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ; Kiss our dollies night and day : Crowned with clusters of the vine, Let us sit, and quaff our wine....
Now, now's the time, so oft by truth Promis'd should come to crown your youth. Then, fair ones, do not wrong Your joys by staying long; Or let love's fire go out,...
No news of navies burnt at seas; No noise of late spawn'd tittyries; No closet plot or open vent, That frights men with a Parliament: No new device or late-found trick,...
Stately goddess, do thou please, Who are chief at marriages, But to dress the bridal bed When my love and I shall wed; And a peacock proud shall be Offered up by us to thee.
In numbers, and but these few, I sing thy birth, oh JESU! Thou pretty Baby, born here, With sup'rabundant scorn here; Who for thy princely port here, Hadst for thy place Of birth, a base...
In numbers, and but these few, I sing Thy birth, O JESU! Thou pretty baby, born here, With sup'rabundant scorn here; Who for Thy princely port here, Hadst for Thy place Of birth a base...
Not all thy flushing suns are set, Herrick, as yet; Nor doth this far-drawn hemisphere Frown and look sullen ev'rywhere. Days may conclude in nights, and suns may rest As dead within the west;...
To house the hag, you must do this: Commix with meal a little piss Of him bewitch'd; then forthwith make A little wafer or a cake; And this rawly bak'd will bring The old hag in. No surer thing.
Lord, do not beat me, Since I do sob and cry, And swoon away to die, Ere Thou dost threat me. Lord, do not scourge me, If I by lies and oaths Have soil'd myself or clothes, But rather purge me.
Thou bid'st me come; I cannot come; for why? Thou dwell'st aloft, and I want wings to fly. To mount my soul, she must have pinions given; For 'tis no easy way from earth to heaven.
If Thou be'st taken, God forbid I fly from Thee, as others did: But if Thou wilt so honour me As to accept my company, I'll follow Thee, hap hap what shall, Both to the judge and judgment hall:...
Mighty Neptune, may it please Thee, the rector of the seas, That my barque may safely run Through thy watery region; And a tunny-fish shall be Offered up with thanks to thee.