True Safety.

'Tis not the walls or purple that defends
A prince from foes, but 'tis his fort of friends.

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

Upon Sudds, A Laundress.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Bacchus: A Canticle

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Things Mortal Still Mutable

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

To Anthea.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Safety To Look To Oneself.

For my neighbour I'll not know,
Whether high he builds or no:
Only this I'll look upon,
Firm be my foundation.
Sound or unsound, let it be!
'Tis the lot ordain'd for me.
He who to the ground does fall
Has not whence to sink at all.

Robert Herrick

Dangers Wait On Kings.

As oft as night is banish'd by the morn,
So oft we'll think we see a king new born.

Robert Herrick

No Danger To Men Desperate.

When fear admits no hope of safety, then
Necessity makes dastards valiant men.

Robert Herrick

Safety On The Shore

What though the sea be calm? Trust to the shore;
Ships have been drown'd, where late they danced before.

Robert Herrick

Good Precepts Or Counsel.

In all thy need be thou possess'd
Still with a well-prepared breast;
Nor let the shackles make thee sad;
Thou canst but have what others had.
And this for comfort thou must know
Times that are ill won't still be so.
Clouds will not ever pour down rain;
A sullen day will clear again.
First peals of thunder we must hear,
Then lutes and harps shall stroke the ear.

Robert Herrick

Good Precepts, Or Counsel

In all thy need, be thou possest
Still with a well prepared breast;
Nor let the shackles make thee sad;
Thou canst but have what others had.
And this for comfort thou must know,
Times that are ill won't still be so:
Clouds will not ever pour down rain;
A sullen day will clear again.
First, peals of thunder we must hear;
When lutes and harps shall stroke the ear.

Robert Herrick