English poem
To The Most Virtuous Mistress Pot, Who Many Times Entertained Him.
When I through all my many poems look, And see yourself to beautify my book, Methinks that only lustre doth appear A light fulfilling all the region here. Gild still with flames this firmament, and be A lamp eternal to my poetry. Which, if it now or shall hereafter shine, 'Twas by your splendour, lady, not by mine. The oil was yours; and that I owe for yet: He pays the half who does confess the debt.
More by Robert Herrick
- To The Most Comely And Proper M. Elizabeth Finch.
- To The Most Fair And Lovely Mistress Anne Soame, Now Lady Abdie.
- To The Most Illustrious And Most Hopeful Prince. Charles, Prince Of Wales.
- To The Most Learned, Wise, And Arch-Antiquary, M. John Selden.
- To The Nightingale And Robin Redbreast.
- To The Painter, To Draw Him A Picture.
- To The Passenger.
- To The Patron Of Poets, M. End. Porter.