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,
A Thanksgiving to God for His House
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; An little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the spars of which I lie Both soft and dry; Where Thou my chamber for
TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THEFOUNTAIN
Reach with your whiter hands to me Some crystal of the spring; And I about the cup shall see Fresh lilies flourishing. Or else, sweet nymphs, do you but this To th’ glass your
HIS WINDING-SHEET
Come thou, who art the wine and wit Of all I’ve writ; The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest; Thou art of what I did intend The All, and End;
BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL
We two are last in hell; what may we fear To be tormented or kept pris’ners here I Alas! if kissing be of plagues the worst, We’ll wish in hell we had been last
The Hour-glass
That hour-glass which there you see With water fill’d, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th’ upper
A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZAWHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS
My dearest Love, since thou wilt go, And leave me here behind thee; For love or pity, let me know The place where I may find thee. AMARIL. In country meadows, pearl’d with dew,
THE BRACELET TO JULIA
Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this my silken twist? For what other reason is’t, But to shew thee how in part Thou my pretty captive art? But thy bond-slave is my heart;
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 to-day, To-morrow will be dying. The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun, The higher he’s a-getting, The
THE INVITATION
To sup with thee thou didst me home invite, And mad’st a promise that mine appetite Should meet and tire, on such lautitious meat, The like not Heliogabalus did eat: And richer wine would’st
Upon The Nipples Of Julia's Breast
Have ye beheld (with much delight) A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam A strawberry shows half
TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD
Why, Madam, will ye longer weep, Whenas your baby’s lull’d asleep? And, pretty child, feels now no more Those pains it lately felt before. All now is silent; groans are fled; Your child lies
THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK
So Good-Luck came, and on my roof did light, Like noiseless snow, or as the dew of night; Not all at once, but gently, as the trees Are by the sun-beams, tickled by degrees.
CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE
Down with the rosemary and bays, Down with the misletoe; Instead of holly, now up-raise The greener box, for show. The holly hitherto did sway; Let box now domineer, Until the dancing Easter-day, Or
A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD
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, To read by
To His Honoured and Most Ingenious Friend Mr. Charles Cotton
For brave comportment, wit without offence, Words fully flowing, yet of influence: Thou art that man of men, the man alone, Worthy the public admiration: Who with thine own eyes read’st what we do
A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID
Sea-born goddess, let me be By thy son thus graced, and thee, That whene’er I woo, I find Virgins coy, but not unkind. Let me, when I kiss a maid, Taste her lips, so
TO HEAVEN
Open thy gates To him who weeping waits, And might come in, But that held back by sin. Let mercy be So kind, to set me free, And I will straight Come in, or
THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS
Come pity us, all ye who see Our harps hung on the willow-tree; Come pity us, ye passers-by, Who see or hear poor widows’ cry; Come pity us, and bring your ears And eyes
A COUNTRY LIFE:TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK
Thrice, and above, blest, my soul’s half, art thou, In thy both last and better vow; Could’st leave the city, for exchange, to see The country’s sweet simplicity; And it to know and practise,
A Child's Grace
HERE a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat and on