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Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик))


To His Peculiar Friend, Mr John Wicks


Since shed or cottage I have none,
I sing the more, that thou hast one;
To whose glad threshold, and free door
I may a Poet come, though poor;
And eat with thee a savoury bit,
Paying but common thanks for it.
—Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see
An over-leaven look in thee,
To sour the bread, and turn the beer
To an exalted vinegar;
Or should'st thou prize me as a dish
Of thrice-boil'd worts, or third-day's fish,
I'd rather hungry go and come
Than to thy house be burdensome;
Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be
One that should drop his beads for thee.



Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. Моему злому читателюTo My Ill Reader
  2. Противление поцелуямKisses Loathsome
  3. К Юлии в храмеTo Julia in the Temple
  4. To Dianeme (I could but see thee yesterday)
  5. The Fairies


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