"Bid me despair, and I'll despair, Under that cypress-tree; Or bid me die, and I will dare E'en death, to die for thee. Thou art my life, my love, my heart, The very eyes of me: And hast command of every part To live and die for thee."

"Bid me to live, and I will live Thy Protestant to be, 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."

"Roses at first were white, Till they could not agree, Whether my Sappho's breast Or they more white should be.But, being vanquish'd quite, A blush their cheeks bespread; Since which, believe the rest, The roses first came red."

"God doth not promise here to man that He Will free him quickly from his misery; But in His own time, and when He thinks fit, Then He will give a happy end to it."

"Before man's fall the rose was born, St. Ambrose says, without the thorn; But for man's fault then was the thorn Without the fragrant rose-bud born; But ne'er the rose without the thorn."

"Thou art a plant sprung up to wither never, But like a laurel to grow green for ever."

"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."

"Art quickens nature; care will make a face; Neglected beauty perisheth apace."

"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."

"What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore, Ships have been drown'd where late they danc'd before."

"O time that cut'st down all And scarce leav'st here Memorial Of any men that were."

"Only a little more I have to write, Then I'll give o'er, And bid the world good-night."

"Then be not coy, but use your time, And while ye may go marry: For having lost but once your prime You may for ever tarry."

"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."

"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."

"Welcome, maids-of-honour! You do bring In the spring, And wait upon her. ... Yet, though thus respected, By-and-by Ye do lie, Poor girls, neglected."

"Soul of my life and fame! Eternal lamp of love! whose radiant flame Out-glares the heaven's Osiris, and thy gleams Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams."

"Then while time serves, and we are but decaying, Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying."

"So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade, All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night."

"Many a green-gown has been given; Many a kiss, both odd and even: Many a glance too has been sent From out the eye, love's firmament."

"Rise and put on your foliage, and be seen To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green."

"'Tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in."

"Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree."

"See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air."

"Get up, get up for shame, the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn."

"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."

"You say to me-wards your affection's strong; Pray love me little, so you love me long."

"Which when I saw, I made access To kiss that tempting nakedness But she forbade me with a wand Of myrtle she had in her hand And, chiding me, said: Hence, remove, Herrick, thou art too coarse to love."

"Her legs were such Diana shows When, tucked up, she a-hunting goes; With buskins shortened to descry The happy dawning of her thigh."

"Whenas in perfume Julia went, Then, then, how sweet was the intent Of that inexorable scent."

"A word with you, that of the singer recalling— Old Herrick: a saying that every maid knows is A flower unplucked is but left to the falling, And nothing is gained by not gathering roses."

"Fresh with all airs of woodland brooks And scents of showers, Take to your haunt of holy books This saint of flowers."

"There is a lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die."

"But when I crept with leaves to hide Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd, Such fleeting pleasures there I took, That with the fancy I awoke; And found, ah me! this flesh of mine More like a stock than like a vine."

"Methought, her long small legs and thighs I with my tendrils did surprise; Her belly, buttocks, and her waist By my soft nerv'lets were embrac'd."

"I dreamt this mortal part of mine Was metamorphos'd to a vine."

"To work a wonder, God would have her shown At once a bud and yet a rose full-blown."

"In that whiter island, where Things are evermore sincere; Candour here, and lustre there Delighting."

"Hell is no other but a soundless pit, Where no one beam of comfort peeps in it."

"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 us all. Amen."

"Temptations hurt not, though they have access: Satan o'ercomes none, but by willingness."

"If anything delight me for to print My book, 'tis this: that Thou, my God, art in't."

"A little buttery, and therein A little bin Which keeps my little loaf of bread Unclipt, unflead. Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar Make me a fire, Close by whose living coal I sit, And glow like it."

"Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; A little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the spars of which I lie Both soft and dry."

"When the artless doctor sees No one hope, but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!When his potion and his pill Has, or none, or little skill, Meet for nothing, but to kill; Sweet Spirit, comfort me!"