Robert Herrick Quotes

Tears are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.

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

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;

Some would know
Why I so
Long still doe tarry,
And ask why
Here that I
Live, and not marry?
Thus I those
Doe oppose;
What man would be here,
Slave to Thrall,
If at all
He could live free here?

If little labour, little are our gains:
Man's fortunes are according to his pains.