The Voice And Viol

Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing
To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing.

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

To The King.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Candlemas Day.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Gubbs. Epig.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Upon Spur.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

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Upon Her Voice.

Let but thy voice engender with the string,
And angels will be born while thou dost sing.

Robert Herrick

Upon A Gentlewoman With A Sweet Voice.

So long you did not sing or touch your lute,
We knew 'twas flesh and blood that there sat mute.
But when your playing and your voice came in,
'Twas no more you then, but a cherubin.

Robert Herrick

Upon Julia's Voice

When I thy singing next shall hear,
I'll wish I might turn all to ear,
To drink-in notes and numbers, such
As blessed souls can't hear too much
Then melted down, there let me lie
Entranced, and lost confusedly;
And by thy music strucken mute,
Die, and be turn'd into a Lute.

Robert Herrick

Upon Sappho Sweetly Playing And Sweetly Singing.

When thou dost play and sweetly sing -
Whether it be the voice or string
Or both of them that do agree
Thus to entrance and ravish me -
This, this I know, I'm oft struck mute,
And die away upon thy lute.

Robert Herrick

On Julia's Voice

So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice,
As, could they hear, the Damned would make no noise,
But listen to thee (walking in thy chamber)
melting melodious words to Lutes of Amber.

Robert Herrick

Upon A Hoarse Singer.

Sing me to death; for till thy voice be clear,
'Twill never please the palate of mine ear.

Robert Herrick