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Robert Herrick, love, in English Clear filters

RomanticRobert Herrick

ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA

When I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of flowers set in comeliness; When I behold another grace In the ascent of curious lace, Which, like a pinnacle, doth shew The top, and the top-gallant too; Then, when I see thy tresses bound Into an oval, square, or round, And knit in knots far more than I. Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie; Next, when those lawny films I see Play with a wild civility; And all those airy silks to flow, Alluring me, and tempting so--
SadRobert Herrick

TO THE WILLOW-TREE

Thou art to all lost love the best, The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids distrest And left of love, are crown'd. When once the lover's rose is dead Or laid aside forlorn, Then willow-garlands, 'bout the head, Bedew'd with tears, are worn. When with neglect, the lover's bane, Poor maids rewarded be, For their love lost their only gain Is but a wreath from thee. And underneath thy cooling shade, When weary of the light, The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid, Come to weep out the night.
RomanticRobert Herrick

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, And set about with lilies; There, filling maunds with cowslips, you May find your Amarillis. HER. What have the meads to do with thee, Or with thy youthful hours? Live thou at court, where thou mayst be The queen of men, not flowers. Let country wenches make 'em fine With posies, since 'tis fitter For thee with richest gems to shine, And like the stars to glitter.
SadRobert Herrick

MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THELOST SHEPHERDESS

Among the myrtles as I walk'd Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: Tell me, said I, in deep distress, Where I may find my Shepherdess? --Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? In every thing that's sweet she is. In yond' carnation go and seek, There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; In that enamell'd pansy by, There thou shalt have her curious eye; In bloom of peach and rose's bud, There waves the streamer of her blood. --'Tis true, said I; and thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts an union; But on a sudden all were gone.
SadRobert Herrick

TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK

Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight, But stay the time till we have bade good-night. Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day. Let us not then so rudely henceforth go Till we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so. There's pain in parting, and a kind of hell When once true lovers take their last farewell. What? shall we two our endless leaves take here Without a sad look, or a solemn tear? He knows not love that hath not this truth proved, Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved. Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part, Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart Into thy loving hands; for I'll keep none
RomanticRobert Herrick

UPON ROSES

Under a lawn, than skies more clear, Some ruffled Roses nestling were, And snugging there, they seem'd to lie As in a flowery nunnery; They blush'd, and look'd more fresh than flowers Quickened of late by pearly showers; And all, because they were possest But of the heat of Julia's breast, Which, as a warm and moisten'd spring, Gave them their ever-flourishing.
RomanticRobert Herrick

HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL

You may vow I'll not forget To pay the debt Which to thy memory stands as due As faith can seal it you. --Take then tribute of my tears; So long as I have fears To prompt me, I shall ever Languish and look, but thy return see never. Oh then to lessen my despair, Print thy lips into(the air, So by this Means, I may kiss thy kiss, Whenas some kind Wind Shall hither waft it:--And, in lieu, My lips shall send a thousand back to you.
RomanticRobert Herrick

TO THE ROSE: SONG

Go, happy Rose, and interwove With other flowers, bind my Love. Tell her, too, she must not be Longer flowing, longer free, That so oft has fetter'd me. Say, if she's fretful, I have bands Of pearl and gold, to bind her hands; Tell her, if she struggle still, I have myrtle rods at will, For to tame, though not to kill. Take thou my blessing thus, and go And tell her this,--but do not so!-- Lest a handsome anger fly Like a lightning from her eye, And burn thee up, as well as I!
DreamyRobert Herrick

HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST

These springs were maidens once that loved, But lost to that they most approved: My story tells, by Love they were Turn'd to these springs which we see here: The pretty whimpering that they make, When of the banks their leave they take, Tells ye but this, they are the same, In nothing changed but in their name.

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