Another. (Virgin Mary)

As sunbeams pierce the glass, and streaming in,
No crack or schism leave i' th' subtle skin:
So the Divine Hand worked and brake no thread,
But, in a mother, kept a maidenhead.

Robert Herrick

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is known for his book of poems, "Hesperides," which includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time." His works are noted for their clarity, simplicity, and musical quality. Herrick was also a vicar of Dean Prior in Devon, despite being ejected during the English Civil War and later reinstated.

Robert Herrick

The Spell.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Soul Is The Salt.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Teage.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To All Young Men That Love.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

To Mistress Mary Willand.

One more by thee, love, and desert have sent,
T' enspangle this expansive firmament.
O flame of beauty! come, appear, appear
A virgin taper, ever shining here.

Robert Herrick

The Virgin Mary.

To work a wonder, God would have her shown
At once a bud and yet a rose full-blown.

Robert Herrick

The Virgin Mary.

The Virgin Mary was, as I have read,
The House of God, by Christ inhabited;
Into the which He entered, but, the door
Once shut, was never to be open'd more.

Robert Herrick

Another. (Charms.)

In the morning when ye rise,
Wash your hands and cleanse your eyes.
Next be sure ye have a care
To disperse the water far;
For as far as that doth light,
So far keeps the evil sprite.

Robert Herrick

Upon Woman And Mary.

So long, it seem'd, as Mary's faith was small,
Christ did her woman, not her Mary call;
But no more woman, being strong in faith,
But Mary call'd then, as St. Ambrose saith.

Robert Herrick

Upon A Virgin.

Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hours
Selecting here both herbs and flowers;
Of which make garlands here and there
To dress thy silent sepulchre.
Nor do thou fear the want of these
In everlasting properties,
Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,
Far faster than the first can wither.

Robert Herrick