Welcome What Comes.

Whatever comes, let's be content withal:
Among God's blessings there is no one small.

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 Parrat.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Tears.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

Pain Ends In Pleasure.

Robert Herrick, Simple Poetry

God's Blessing.

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.

Free Welcome.

God He refuseth no man, but makes way
For all that now come or hereafter may.

Robert Herrick

God's Blessing.

In vain our labours are whatsoe'er they be,
Unless God gives the benedicite.

Robert Herrick

To His Dear God.

    I'll hope no more
For things that will not come;
And if they do, they prove but cumbersome.
    Wealth brings much woe;
And, since it fortunes so,
'Tis better to be poor
    Than so t' abound
    As to be drown'd
Or overwhelm'd with store.

    Pale care, avaunt!
I'll learn to be content
With that small stock Thy bounty gave or lent.
    What may conduce
To my most healthful use,
Almighty God, me grant;
    But that, or this,
    That hurtful is,
Deny Thy suppliant.

Robert Herrick

God's Bounty.

God, as He's potent, so He's likewise known
To give us more than hope can fix upon.

Robert Herrick

No Want Where There's Little.

To bread and water none is poor;
And having these, what need of more?
Though much from out the cess be spent,
Nature with little is content.

Robert Herrick

The Goodness Of His God.

When winds and seas do rage
And threaten to undo me,
Thou dost, their wrath assuage
If I but call unto Thee.

A mighty storm last night
Did seek my soul to swallow,
But by the peep of light
A gentle calm did follow.

What need I then despair,
Though ills stand round about me;
Since mischiefs neither dare
To bark or bite without Thee?

Robert Herrick