English poem

To His Tomb-Maker.

Go I must; when I am gone, Write but this upon my stone: Chaste I lived, without a wife, That's the story of my life. Strewings need none, every flower Is in this word, bachelour.

More by Robert Herrick

TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD;A PRESENT, BY A CHILD
To His Saviour.
To His Sister-In-Law, M. Susanna Herrick.
To His Sweet Saviour
To His Valentine On St. Valentine's Day.
To His Verse
To His Worthy Friend, M. Arthur Bartly.
To His Worthy Friend, M. John Hall, Student Of Gray's Inn.

All 1426 poems by Robert Herrick