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Robert Herrick (poet) quotes - page 2
Sweet, be not proud of those two eyes Which starlike sparkle in their skies; Nor be you proud that you can see All hearts your captives, yours yet free.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Get up, sweet Slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Tears are the noble language of the eye.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Cherry ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, Full and fair ones; come and buy! If so be you ask me where They do grow, I answer, there, Where my Julia's lips do smile; There's the land, or cherry-isle.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Some asked how pearls did grow, and where? Then spoke I to my girl To part her lips, and showed them there The quarelets of pearl.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Fall on me like a silent dew, Or like those maiden showers Which, by the peep of day, do strew A baptism o'er the flowers.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Night makes no difference 'twixt the Priest and Clerk; Joan as my Lady is as good i' the dark.
Robert Herrick (poet)
We such clusters had As made us nobly wild, not mad; And yet each verse of thine Outdid the meat, outdid the frolic wine.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Whenas in silks my Julia goes, Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes. Next, when I cast mine eyes and see That brave vibration each way free; Oh how that glittering taketh me!
Robert Herrick (poet)
A spark neglected makes a mighty fire.
Robert Herrick (poet)
The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Wealth cannot make a life, but Love.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Conquer we shall, but, we must first contend! It's not the fight that crowns us, but the end.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Who covets more is evermore a slave.
Robert Herrick (poet)
The person lives twice who lives the first life well.
Robert Herrick (poet)
The body is the soul's poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam.
Robert Herrick (poet)
He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke, Submits his neck into a second yoke.
Robert Herrick (poet)
In things a moderation keep; Kings ought to shear, not skin, their sheep.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Give, if thou can, an alms; if not, a sweet and gentle word.
Robert Herrick (poet)
Gather ye rosebuds 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.
Robert Herrick (poet)
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