A selection from the lyrical poems of Robert Herrick by Robert Herrick
page 47 of 223 (21%)
page 47 of 223 (21%)
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And that this pleasure is like rain,
Not sent ye for to drown your pain, But for to make it spring again. *29* THE BRIDE-CAKE This day, my Julia, thou must make For Mistress Bride the wedding-cake: Knead but the dough, and it will be To paste of almonds turn'd by thee; Or kiss it thou but once or twice, And for the bride-cake there'll be spice. *30* THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER Holy-Rood, come forth and shield Us i' th' city and the field; Safely guard us, now and aye, From the blast that burns by day; And those sounds that us affright In the dead of dampish night; Drive all hurtful fiends us fro, By the time the cocks first crow. |
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