Anthea, I am going hence
With some small stock of innocence;
But yet those blessed gates I see
Withstanding entrance unto me;
To pray for me do thou begin;--
The porter then will let me in.
More verses by Robert Herrick
- An Hymn To The Muses
- Upon Man
- The Succession Of The Four Sweet Months
- To His Conscience
- No Pains, No Gains