Love Palpable.

I press'd my Julia's lips, and in the kiss
Her soul and love were palpable in this.

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

Virtue.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Will Makes The Work; Or, Consent Makes The Cure.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Distrust.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Apollo.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Upon Love.

I played with Love, as with the fire
The wanton Satyr did;
Nor did I know, or could descry
What under there was hid.

That Satyr he but burnt his lips;
But mine's the greater smart,
For kissing Love's dissembling chips
The fire scorch'd my heart.

Robert Herrick

On Julia's Lips.

Sweet are my Julia's lips and clean,
As if o'erwashed in Hippocrene.

Robert Herrick

Upon His Julia.

Will ye hear what I can say
Briefly of my Julia?
Black and rolling is her eye,
Double-chinn'd and forehead high;
Lips she has all ruby red,
Cheeks like cream enclareted;
And a nose that is the grace
And proscenium of her face.
So that we may guess by these
The other parts will richly please.

Robert Herrick

Upon Love.

Some salve to every sore we may apply;
Only for my wound there's no remedy.
Yet if my Julia kiss me, there will be
A sovereign balm found out to cure me.

Robert Herrick

Julia's Petticoat.

Thy azure robe I did behold
As airy as the leaves of gold,
Which, erring here, and wandering there,
Pleas'd with transgression ev'rywhere:
Sometimes 'twould pant, and sigh, and heave,
As if to stir it scarce had leave:
But, having got it, thereupon
'Twould make a brave expansion.
And pounc'd with stars it showed to me
Like a celestial canopy.
Sometimes 'twould blaze, and then abate,
Like to a flame grown moderate:
Sometimes away 'twould wildly fling,
Then to thy thighs so closely cling
That some conceit did melt me down
As lovers fall into a swoon:
And, all confus'd, I there did lie
Drown'd in delights, but could not die.
That leading cloud I follow'd still,
Hoping t' have seen of it my fill;
But ah! I could not: should it move
To life...

Robert Herrick

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.

Robert Herrick