Upon A Painted Gentlewoman

Men say you're fair; and fair ye are, 'tis true;
But, hark! we praise the painter now, not you.

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

Crosses.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Affliction.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

The Bell-Man

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Sabbaths.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

To The Painter, To Draw Him A Picture.

Come, skilful Lupo, now, and take
Thy bice, thy umber, pink, and lake;
And let it be thy pencil's strife,
To paint a Bridgeman to the life:
Draw him as like too, as you can,
An old, poor, lying, flattering man:
His cheeks bepimpled, red and blue;
His nose and lips of mulberry hue.
Then, for an easy fancy, place
A burling iron for his face:
Next, make his cheeks with breath to swell,
And for to speak, if possible:
But do not so, for fear lest he
Should by his breathing, poison thee.

Robert Herrick

To A Gentlewoman, Objecting To Him His Gray Hair

Am I despised, because you say;
And I dare swear, that I am gray?
Know, Lady, you have but your day!
And time will come when you shall wear
Such frost and snow upon your hair;
And when, though long, it comes to pass,
You question with your looking-glass,
And in that sincere crystal seek
But find no rose-bud in your cheek,
Nor any bed to give the shew
Where such a rare carnation grew:
Ah!then too late, close in your chamber keeping,
It will be told
That you are old,
By those true tears you're weeping.

Robert Herrick

Fair Days: Or, Dawns Deceitful.

Fair was the dawn, and but e'en now the skies
Show'd like to cream inspir'd with strawberries,
But on a sudden all was chang'd and gone
That smil'd in that first sweet complexion.
Then thunder-claps and lightning did conspire
To tear the world, or set it all on fire.
What trust to things below, whenas we see,
As men, the heavens have their hypocrisy?

Robert Herrick

Upon Pink, An Ill-Fac'd Painter. Epig.

To paint the fiend, Pink would the devil see;
And so he may, if he'll be rul'd by me;
Let but Pink's face i' th' looking-glass be shown,
And Pink may paint the devil's by his own.

Robert Herrick

Upon A Crooked Maid.

Crooked you are, but that dislikes not me:
So you be straight where virgins straight should be.

Robert Herrick

Upon A Comely And Curious Maid.

If men can say that beauty dies,
Marbles will swear that here it lies.
If, reader, then thou canst forbear
In public loss to shed a tear,
The dew of grief upon this stone
Will tell thee pity thou hast none.

Robert Herrick