False Mourning.

He who wears blacks, and mourns not for the dead,
Does but deride the party buried.

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

Great Spirits Supervive.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

All Things Run Well For The Righteous.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

God's Descent.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Pain Ends In Pleasure.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Grief.

Sorrows divided amongst many, less
Discruciate a man in deep distress.

Robert Herrick

On Himself

Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light;
And weep for me, lost in an endless night;
Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,
Who writ for many.    BENEDICTE.

Robert Herrick

His Lachrymæ; Or, Mirth Turned To Mourning.

Call me no more,
As heretofore,
The music of a feast;
Since now, alas!
The mirth that was
In me is dead or ceas'd.

Before I went,
To banishment,
Into the loathed west,
I could rehearse
A lyric verse,
And speak it with the best.

But time, ay me!
Has laid, I see,
My organ fast asleep,
And turn'd my voice
Into the noise
Of those that sit and weep.

Robert Herrick

Sorrows.

Sorrows our portion are: ere hence we go,
Crosses we must have; or, hereafter woe.

Robert Herrick

No Despite To The Dead.

Reproach we may the living, not the dead:
'Tis cowardice to bite the buried.

Robert Herrick

To Electra.

Let not thy tombstone e'er be laid by me:
Nor let my hearse be wept upon by thee:
But let that instant when thou diest be known
The minute of mine expiration.
One knell be rung for both; and let one grave
To hold us two an endless honour have.

Robert Herrick