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Labour we must, and labour hardI' th' forum here, or vineyard.
Robert Herrick
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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.
English
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.
On Joan.
Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry
To His Book
Shame No Statist.
God's Dwelling.
Rest.
On with thy work, though thou be'st hardly press'd:Labour is held up by the hope of rest.
Lip-Labour.
In the old Scripture I have often read,The calf without meal ne'er was offered;To figure to us nothing more than this,Without the heart lip-labour nothing is.
A Will To Be Working.
Although we cannot turn the fervent fitOf sin, we must strive 'gainst the stream of it;And howsoe'er we have the conquest miss'd,'Tis for our glory that we did resist.
Harvest Home
To the Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl of WestmorelandCome, sons of summer, by whose toilWe are the lords of wine and oil;By whose tough labours, and rough hands,We rip up first, then reap our lands.Crown'd with the ears of corn, now come,And to the pipe sing Harvest Home.Come forth, my lord, and see the cartDress'd up with all the country art.See, here a malkin, there a sheet,As spotless pure, as it is sweet;The horses, mares, and frisking fillies,(Clad, all, in linen, white as lilies.)The harvest swains and wenches boundFor joy, to see the Hock-cart crown'd.About the cart, hear, how the routOf rural younglings raise the shout;Pressing before, some coming after,Those with a shout, and these with laughter.Some bless the c...
His Grange.
How well contented in this private grangeSpend I my life, that's subject unto change:Under whose roof with moss-work wrought, there IKiss my brown wife and black posterity.
The Lay Of The Laborer.
A spade! a rake! a hoe!A pickaxe, or a bill!A hook to reap, or a scythe to mow,A flail, or what ye will -And here's a ready handTo ply the needful tool,And skill'd enough, by lessons rough,In Labor's rugged school.To hedge, or dig the ditch,To lop or fell the tree,To lay the swarth on the sultry field,Or plough the stubborn lea;The harvest stack to bind,The wheaten rick to thatch,And never fear in my pouch to findThe tinder or the match.To a flaming barn or farmMy fancies never roam;The fire I yearn to kindle and burnIs on the hearth of Home;Where children huddle and crouchThrough dark long winter days,Where starving children huddle and crouch,To see the cheerful rays,A-glowing on the ...
Thomas Hood