English poem

On Himself

I'll write no more of love, but now repent Of all those times that I in it have spent. I'll write no more of life, but wish 'twas ended, And that my dust was to the earth commended.

More by Robert Herrick

On Heaven.
On Himself
On Himself
On Himself
On Himself (2)
On Himself.
On Himself.
On Himself.

All 1426 poems by Robert Herrick