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What Kind Of Mistress He Would Have

Be the mistress of my choice,

Clean in manners, clear in voice;

Be she witty, more than wise,

Pure enough, though not precise;

Be she showing in her dress,

Like a civil wilderness,

That the curious may detect

Order in a sweet neglect;

by Robert Herrick

A Meditation for His Mistress

You are a tulip seen today,

But (Dearest) of so short a stay;

That where you grew, scarce man can say.

You are a lovely July-flower,

Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower,

Will force you hence, (and in an hour.)

You are a sparkling Rose i'th'bud,

Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood

by Robert Herrick

Upon A Child

Here a pretty baby lies

Sung asleep with lullabies;

Pray be silent, and not stir

Th' easy earth that covers her.

by Robert Herrick

The Beggar to Mab, The Queen Fairy

Please your Grace, from out your store

Give an alms to one that's poor,

That your mickle may have more.

Black I'm grown for want of meat,

Give me then an ant to eat,

Or the cleft ear of a mouse

Over-sour'd in drink of souce;

Or, sweet lady, reach to me

by Robert Herrick

Upon Love:by Way Of Question and Answer

I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?

ANS. Like, and dislike ye.

I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?

ANS. Stroke ye, to strike ye.

I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?

ANS. Love will be-fool ye.

I bring ye love. QUES. What will love do?

ANS. Heat ye, to cool ye.

Robert Herrick

The Kiss: A Dialogue

Among thy fancies, tell me this,

What is the thing we call a kiss?

I shall resolve ye what it is:—

It is a creature born and bred

Between the lips, all cherry-red,

By love and warm desires fed,—

CHORUS. And makes more soft the bridal bed.

It is an active flame, that flies

by Robert Herrick

The Shower Of Blossoms

Love in a shower of blossoms came

Down, and half drown'd me with the same;

The blooms that fell were white and red;

But with such sweets commingled,

As whether (this) I cannot tell,

My sight was pleased more, or my smell;

But true it was, as I roll'd there,

Without a thought of hurt or fear,

by Robert Herrick

The Argument Of His Book

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers,

Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.

I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,

Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.

I write of youth, of love, and have access

By these to sing of cleanly wantonness.

I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece

Of balm, of oil, of spice, and ambergris.

by Robert Herrick

A Christmas Carol, Sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall

Chorus.

What sweeter music can we bring, Than a Carol, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly King? Awake the Voice! Awake the String! Heart, Ear, and Eye, and every thing Awake! the while the active Finger Runs division with the Singer.

{From the Flourish they came to the Song}.

Voice 1

Dark and dull night, fly hence away,

And give the honor to this Day,

That sees December turn'd to May.

by Robert Herrick

The Vine

I dreamed this mortal part of mine

Was metamorphosed to a vine,

Which, crawling one and every way,

Enthralled my dainty Lucia.

Methought, her long small legs and thighs

I with my tendrils did surprise:

Her belley, buttocks, and her waist

By my soft nervelets were embraced

by Robert Herrick

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,

Old Time is still a flying:

And this same flower that smiles today,

Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,

The higher he's a getting;

The sooner will his race be run,

And nearer he's to setting.

by Robert Herrick

To Daffodils

Fair Daffodils, we weep to see

You haste away so soon;

As yet the early-rising sun

Has not attain'd his noon.

Stay, stay,

Until the hasting day

Has run

But to the even-song;

by Robert Herrick