Robert Herrick

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,

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;

In the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part, Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.

'Tis hard to find God, but to comprehend Him, as He is, is labour without end.

Like will to like, each creature loves his kind; Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind.

Let moderation on thy passions wait; Who loves too much, too much the lov'd will hate.

When fear admits no hope of safety, then Necessity makes dastards valiant men.

Against diseases here the strongest fence Is the defensive virtue, abstinence.

Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall.

Know when to speak; for many times it brings Danger to give the best advice to kings.

Twixt truth and error there's this difference known; Error is fruitful, truth is only one.

Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt; Nothing's so hard but search will find it out.

Despair takes heart, when there's no hope to speed: The coward then takes arms and does the deed.