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 Carnations: a Song
2. The Changes: to Corinna
3. The Present; or, The Bag of the Bee
4. A Request to the Graces
5. The Apron of Flowers

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