Poem by Robert Herrick

Upon Cupid

Love, like a gipsy, lately came,
And did me much importune
To see my hand, that by the same
He might foretell my fortune.

He saw my palm; and then, said he,
I tell thee, by this score here,
That thou, within few months, shalt be
The youthful Prince D'Amour here.

I smiled, and bade him once more prove,
And by some cross-line show it,
That I could ne'er be Prince of Love,
Though here the Princely Poet. 

1. Four Things Make Us Happy Here
2. Love, What It Is
3. Upon Man
4. Casualties
5. Felicity Quick of Flight

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