His Loss

All has been plunder'd from me but my wit:
Fortune herself can lay no claim to it.

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 Primitiæ To Parents.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Sins Loathed, And Yet Loved.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

God's Mirth: Man's Mourning.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Love: By Way Of Question And Answer

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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The Plunder.

I am of all bereft,
Save but some few beans left,
Whereof, at last, to make
For me and mine a cake,
Which eaten, they and I
Will say our grace, and die.

Robert Herrick

The Recompense.

All I have lost that could be rapt from me;
And fare it well: yet, Herrick, if so be
Thy dearest Saviour renders thee but one
Smile, that one smile's full restitution.

Robert Herrick

Upon The Loss Of His Mistresses

I have lost, and lately, these
Many dainty mistresses:
Stately Julia, prime of all;
Sapho next, a principal:
Smooth Anthea, for a skin
White, and heaven-like crystalline:
Sweet Electra, and the choice
Myrha, for the lute and voice.
Next, Corinna, for her wit,
And the graceful use of it;
With Perilla: All are gone;
Only Herrick's left alone,
For to number sorrow by
Their departures hence, and die.

Robert Herrick

Possessions.

Those possessions short-liv'd are,
Into the which we come by war.

Robert Herrick

The Poet Hath Lost His Pipe.

I cannot pipe as I was wont to do,
Broke is my reed, hoarse is my singing, too;
My wearied oat I'll hang upon the tree,
And give it to the sylvan deity.

Robert Herrick

His Weakness In Woes.

I cannot suffer; and in this my part
Of patience wants. Grief breaks the stoutest heart.

Robert Herrick