Poem by Robert Herrick

To Robin Red-Breast

Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be
With leaves and moss-work for to cover me;
And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter,
Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister!
For epitaph, in foliage, next write this:
HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!

1. Love, What It Is
2. The Succession of the Four Sweet Months
3. Wlt Punished Prospers Most
4. No Pains, No Gains
5. Upon a Painted Gentlewoman

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