1
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.
"Another Grace for a Child" (1647)
2
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.
"The Argument of his Book" from
Hesperides
(1648)
3
And once more yet (ere I am laid out dead)
Knock at a star with my exalted head.
"The Bad Season Makes the Poet Sad" (1648)
4
Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come and buy:
If so be, you ask me where
They do grow? I answer, there,
Where my Julia's lips do smile;
There's the land, or cherry-isle.
"Cherry-Ripe" (1648)
5
A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness:
"Delight in Disorder" (1648)
6
Night makes no difference 'twixt the Priest and Clerk;
Joan as my Lady is as good i' th' dark.
"No Difference i' th' Dark" (1648)
7
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg,
Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
"On Julia's Legs" (1648)
8
But, for Man's fault, then was the thorn,
Without the fragrant rose-bud, born;
But ne'er the rose without the thorn.
"The Rose" (1647)
9
Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon.
"To Daffodils" (1648)
10
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.
"To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" (1648)
11
Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
"To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time" (1648)
12
Whenas 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;
O how that glittering taketh me!
"Upon Julia's Clothes" (1648)