To read my book the virgin shy
May blush while Brutus standeth by,
But when he’s gone, read through what’s writ,
And never stain a cheek for it.Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“Another [To His Booke],” Hesperides, # 4 (1648)
(Source)
A translation (if not so labeled) of the concluding lines of Martial ep. 11.6. Brutus stands as a paragon of moral rectitude.
Quotations by:
Herrick, Robert
Thus times do shift, each thing his turn does hold;
New things succeed, as former things grow old.Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“Ceremonies for Candlemas Eve,” Hesperides, # 892 (1648)
(Source)
Away with silks, away with lawn,
I’ll have no scenes or curtains drawn;
Give me my mistress as she is,
Dress’d in her nak’d simplicities;
For as my heart e’en so mine eye
Is won with flesh, not drapery.Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“Clothes Do But Cheat and Cozen Us,” Hesperides, # 402 (1648)
(Source)
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.Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“God’s Time Must End Our Trouble,” Hesperides, # 252 (1648)
How rich a man is all desire to know;
But none inquires if good he be or no.
Night makes no difference ‘twixt the priest and clerk;
Joan as my lady is as good i’ th’ dark.Robert Herrick (1591-1674) English poet
“No Difference i’ th’ Dark,” Hesperides, # 864 (1648)
(Source)
When one is past, another care we have:
Thus woe succeeds a woe, as wave a wave.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris;
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write
How roses first came red and lilies white;
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King;
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.
From noise of Scare-fires rest ye free,
From Murders Benedicite.
From all mischances, they may fright
Your pleasing slumbers in the night:
Mercie secure ye all, and keep
The Goblins from ye, while ye sleep.
If well thou hast begun, go on fore-right
It is the end that crowns us, not the fight.
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score;
Then to that twenty, add a hundred more:
A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on,
To make that thousand up a million.
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Let’s kiss afresh, as when we first begun.
When as in silks my Julia goes,
Then, then, methinks how sweetly flows
That liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free;
Oh how that glittering taketh me!