Robert Herrick Quotes

• Where we such clusters had, As made us nobly wild, not mad; And yet each verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.

  Robert Herrick

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• A sweet disorder in the dress Kindles in clothes a wantonness: A lawn about the shoulders thrown Into a fine distraction… A careless shoe-string, in whose tie I see a wild civility: Do more bewitch me, than when Art Is too precise in every part.

  Robert Herrick

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• When as in silks my Julia goes, Then, then (me thinks) how sweetly flows That liquefaction of her clothes.

  Robert Herrick

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• Her eyes, the glow-worm lend thee, The shooting stars attend thee; And the elves also, Whose little eyes glow, Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

  Robert Herrick

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• Then come on, come on, and yield A savour like unto a blessed field, When the bedabbled morn Washes the golden ears of corn.

  Robert Herrick

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• 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.

  Robert Herrick

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• Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, Old Time is still a flying: And this same flower that smiles to day, Tomorrow will be dying.

  Robert Herrick

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• 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. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; Come, my Corinna, come, let’s go a Maying.

  Robert Herrick

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• See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air: Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see The dew-bespangling herb and tree.

  Robert Herrick

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

  Robert Herrick

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

  Robert Herrick

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• Let others drink thee freely; and desire Thee and their lips espous’d; while I admire, And love thee; but not taste thee. Let my Muse Fail of thy former helps; and only use Her inadult’rate strength: what’s done by me Hereafter, shall smell of the lamp, not thee.

  Robert Herrick

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• ’Tis thou, alone, who with thy mystic fan, Work’st more than Wisdom, Art, or Nature can, To rouse the sacred madness; and awake The frost-bound-blood, and spirits; and to make Them frantic with thy raptures, flashing through The soul, like lightning, and as active too.

  Robert Herrick

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• Soul of my lie, and fame! Eternal lamp of love! whose radiant flame Out-glares the Heav’ns Osiris; and thy gleams Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams.

  Robert Herrick

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• Wealth cannot make a life, but Love.

  Robert Herrick

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• But thou liv’st fearless; and thy face ne’er shows Fortune when she comes, or goes.

  Robert Herrick

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• But ah! if empty dreams so please, Love give me more such nights as these.

  Robert Herrick

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• Is there no way to beget In my limbs their former heat? Aeson had (as Poets fain) Baths that made him young again: Find that Medicine (if you can) For your dry-decrepit man: Who would but fain his strength renew, Were it but to pleasure you.

  Robert Herrick

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• I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes.

  Robert Herrick

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• I write of Hell; I sing (and ever shall) Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all.

  Robert Herrick

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Robert Herrick (37)

Birth:	24th August, 1591
Death:	15th October, 1674
Nationality:	British
Profession:	Poet

About

Born in Cheapside, London, he was the seventh child and fourth son of Julia Stone and Nicholas Herrick, a prosperous goldsmith. His father died in a fall from a fourth-floor window in November 1592, when Robert was a year old The tradition that Herrick received his education at Westminster is groundless.

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