English poem

The Plunder.

I am of all bereft, Save but some few beans left, Whereof, at last, to make For me and mine a cake, Which eaten, they and I Will say our grace, and die.

More by Robert Herrick

The Parting Verse, The Feast There Ended.
The Perfume.
The Pillar Of Fame.
The Plaudite, Or End Of Life
The Poet Hath Lost His Pipe.
The Poet Loves A Mistress, But Not To Marry.
The Poet's Good Wishes For The Most Hopeful And Handsome Prince, The Duke Of York.
The Pomander Bracelet.

All 1426 poems by Robert Herrick