1. un
  2. 1600
  3. Robert Herrick
A True Lent

Is this a fast,—to keep
    The larder lean,
        And clean
From fat of veals and sheep?

Is it to quit the dish
    Of flesh, yet still
        To fill
The platter high with fish?

Is it to fast an hour,
    Or ragg’d...

Poet: Robert Herrick
To Daffodils

  FAIRE daffadills, we weep to see
  You haste away so soone;
As yet the early-rising sun
  Has not attained his noone.
        Stay, stay,
  Until the hastening day
        Has run
  But to the even-song;
And having prayed together...

Poet: Robert Herrick
To Violets

Welcome, maids of honor!
    You doe bring
    In the Spring,
And wait upon her.

She has virgins many,
    Fresh and faire;
    Yet you are
More sweet than any.

Y’ are the maiden Posies,
    And, so grac’t,
    ...

Poet: Robert Herrick
To Blossoms

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.

What! were ye born to be
    An hour or half’s delight,...

Poet: Robert Herrick
Ode to Ben Jonson

              AH Ben!
  Say how or when
  Shall we, thy guests,
  Meet at those lyric feasts,
              Made at the Sun,
  The Dog, the Triple Tun;
  Where we such clusters had
  As made us nobly wild, not mad;
      And yet...

Poet: Robert Herrick
Delight in Disorder

A Sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness;
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and there
Inthralls the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow...

Poet: Robert Herrick
Oberon’s Feast

Shapcot! to thee the Fairy State
I with discretion dedicate:
Because thou prizest things that are
Curious and unfamiliar,
Take first the feast; these dishes gone,
We’ll see the Fairy-court anon.
A little mushroom-table spread,
After short...

Poet: Robert Herrick
A venyige

Azt álmodtam éjjel, hogy testem
átváltozott: szőlőtő lettem,
rügyet neveltem, lombot, szárat,
s beleptem velük Lúciámat,
indáimmal combját és pöttöm
lábát is átöleltem többször,
majd sok mohó, de lágy kacsommal
hátulját is magához fontam,
...

Poet: Robert Herrick