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Robert Herrick (Роберт Геррик (Херрик))


The Hour-Glass


That hour-glass which there you see
With water fill'd, sirs, credit me,
The humour was, as I have read,
But lovers' tears incrystalled.
Which, as they drop by drop do pass
From th' upper to the under-glass,
Do in a trickling manner tell,
By many a watery syllable,
That lovers' tears in lifetime shed
Do restless run when they are dead. 



Robert Herrick's other poems:
  1. Up Scoble
  2. No Fault In Women
  3. Neutrality Loathsome
  4. To Anthea
  5. Upon Her Eyes


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