English poem

To His Saviour.

Lord, I confess, that Thou alone art able To purify this my Augean stable: Be the seas water, and the land all soap, Yet if Thy blood not wash me, there's no hope.

More by Robert Herrick

To His Paternal Country
To His Peculiar Friend, Mr. Thomas Shapcott, Lawyer.
To His Peculiar Friend, Sir Edward Fish, Knight Baronet.
TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD;A PRESENT, BY A CHILD
To His Sister-In-Law, M. Susanna Herrick.
To His Sweet Saviour
To His Tomb-Maker.
To His Valentine On St. Valentine's Day.

All 1426 poems by Robert Herrick