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. To Violets
2. To Pansies
3. To Primroses Filled with Morning Dew
4. The Bleeding Hand; or The Sprig of Eglantine Given to a Maid
5. To Carnations: a Song

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