By those soft tods of wool,
With which the air is full;
By all those tinctures there
That paint the hemisphere;
By dews and drizzling rain,
That swell the golden grain;
By all those sweets that be
I'th' flowery nunnery;
By silent nights, and the
Three forms of Hecate;
By all aspects that bless
The sober sorceress,
While juice she strains, and pith
To make her philtres with;
By Time, that hastens on
Things to perfection;
And by your self, the best
Conjurement of the rest;
--O, my Electra! be
In love with none but me.
More verses by Robert Herrick
- A Dialogue Betwixt Himself And Mistress Elizawheeler, Under The Name Of Amarillis
- A New Year's Gift,Sent To Sir Simeon Steward
- A Lyric To Mirth
- To Anthea, Who May Command Him Any Thing
- A Ring Presented To Julia