Robert Herrick

A Cavalier Poet, Herrick is often associated with a carpe diem theme because of his poem "To the Virgins, Make Much of Time," a poem that ETS holds in high regard.

His reputation rests on his Hesperides, a collection of lyric poetry, and the much shorter Noble Numbers, spiritual works, published together in 1648. He is well-known for his bawdy style, referring frequently to lovemaking and the female body.  Many of his bawdy poems focus on the character of "Julia."

“To the Virgins, To Make Much of Time” (often compared to Marvell’s ‘Coy Mistress’)

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.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
     The higher he's a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
     And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
     When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
     Times still succeed the former.

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.

“UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES”

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 Breasts"

DISPLAY thy breasts, my Julia—there let me
Behold that circummortal purity,
Between whose glories there my lips I'll lay,
Ravish'd in that fair via lactea.

“The Night Piece, to Julia"

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.

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber:
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light
Like tapers clear without number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv'ry feet
My soul I'll pour into thee.

“Corinna’s Going A-Maying”

it begins:

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