The poetical works of Robert Herrick, Volume 1 (Google eBook)

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W. Pickering, 1825
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Page 175 - 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; And, having pray'd together, we Will go with you along. We have short time to stay, as you, We have as short a Spring ; As quick a growth to meet decay As you, or any thing.
Page 114 - GATHER ye rosebuds while ye may, Old Time is still a-flying: And this same flower that smiles to-day, To-morrow 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. That age is best, which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former.
Page 247 - Twas pity Nature brought ye forth Merely to show your worth, And lose you quite. But you are lovely leaves, where we May read how soon things have Their end, though ne'er so brave: And after they have shown their pride Like you, awhile, they glide Into the grave.
Page 150 - Or bid me love, and I will give A loving heart to thee. A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find, That heart I'll give to thee.
Page 25 - 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, Whose plantations fully show All the year where cherries grow.
Page 218 - THE MAD MAID'S SONG. Good morrow to the day so fair ; Good morning, sir, to you ; Good morrow to mine own torn hair, Bedabbled with the dew. Good morning to this primrose too ; Good morrow to each maid ; That will with flowers the tomb bestrew Wherein my Love is laid. Ah ! woe is me, woe, woe is me, Alack and well-a-day ! For pity, sir, find out that bee, Which bore my Love away. I'll seek him in your bonnet brave ; I'll seek him in your eyes ; Nay, now I think they've made his grave I' th
Page 152 - TO MEADOWS YE have been fresh and green, Ye have been fill'd with flowers, And ye the walks have been Where maids have spent their hours.
Page 115 - And neerer he's to setting. That age is best which is the first, When youth and blood are warmer ; But being spent, the worse, and worst Times still succeed the former. Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may, goe marry ; For having lost but once your prime, You may for ever tarry.
Page 19 - cause I do not play Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. You blame me too, because I can't devise Some sport to please those babies...
Page 98 - The staffe, the elme, the prop, the shelt'ring wall, Whereon my vine did crawle, Now, now blowne downe ; needs must the old stock fall.

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