Poem by Robert Herrick

To His Mistress, Objecting to Him Neither Toying or Talking

You say I love not, 'cause I do not play
Still with your curls, and kiss the time away.
You blame me, too, because I can't devise
Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes;
By Love's religion, I must here confess it,
The most I love, when I the least express it.
Shall griefs find tongues; full casks are ever found
To give, if any, yet but little sound.
Deep waters noiseless are; and this we know,
That chiding streams betray small depth below.
So when love speechless is, she doth express
A depth in love, and that depth bottomless.
Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such,
Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much.

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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