Upon The Loss Of His Mistresses
I have lost, and lately, these
Many dainty mistresses:--
Stately Julia, prime of all;
Sapho next, a principal:
Smooth Anthea, for a skin
White, and heaven-like crystalline:
Sweet Electra, and the choice
Myrha, for the lute and voice.
Next, Corinna, for her wit,
And the graceful use of it;
With Perilla:--All are gone;
Only Herrick's left alone,
For to number sorrow by
Their departures hence, and die.
poem by Robert Herrick

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TO PERlLLA
Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see
Me, day by day, to steal away from thee?
Age calls me hence, and my gray hairs bid come,
And haste away to mine eternal home;
'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this,
That I must give thee the supremest kiss:--
Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring
Part of the cream from that religious spring,
With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet;
That done, then wind me in that very sheet
Which wrapt thy smooth limbs, when thou didst implore
The Gods' protection, but the night before;
Follow me weeping to my turf, and there
Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear:
Then lastly, let some weekly strewings be
Devoted to the memory of me;
Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep
Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep.
poem by Robert Herrick

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To Perilla
Ah, my Perilla, dost thou grieve to see
Me day by day to steal away from thee?
Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come,
And haste away to mine eternal home.
'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this,
That I must give thee the supremest kiss.
Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring
Part of the cream from that religious spring,
With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet.
That done, then wind me in that very sheet
Which wrapped thy smooth limbs when thou didst implore
The gods' protection but the night before.
Follow me weeping to my turf, and there
Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear;
Then, lastly, let some weekly-strewings be
Devoted to the memory of me:
Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep
Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Anthea's Retractation
Anthea laugh'd, and, fearing lest excess
Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness
She with a dainty blush rebuked her face,
And call'd each line back to his rule and space.
poem by Robert Herrick

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His Last Request To Julia
I have been wanton, and too bold, I fear,
To chafe o'er-much the virgin's cheek or ear;--
Beg for my pardon, Julia! he doth win
Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin.
That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come,
And go with me to chuse my burial room:
My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies,
Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes.
poem by Robert Herrick

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When to her Lute Corinna Sings
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear,
As any challenged echo clear;
But when she doth of mourning speak,
E'en with her sighs, the strings do break,
And as her lute doth live or die,
Led by her passion, so must I:
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
E'en from my heart the strings do break
poem by Thomas Campion

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Corinna
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear
As any challenged echo clear.
But when she doth of mourning speak,
Even with her sighs the strings do break.
And as her lute doth live or die;
Led by her passion, so must I.
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring;
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
Even from my heart the strings do break.
poem by Thomas Campion

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To Julia
How rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art,
In each thy dainty and peculiar part!
First, for thy Queen-ship on thy head is set
Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet;
About thy neck a carkanet is bound,
Made of the Ruby, Pearl, and Diamond;
A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb;
About thy wrist the rich Dardanium;
Between thy breasts, than down of swans more white,
There plays the Sapphire with the Chrysolite.
No part besides must of thyself be known,
But by the Topaz, Opal, Calcedon.
poem by Robert Herrick

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The Bad Season Makes The Poet Sad
Dull to myself, and almost dead to these,
My many fresh and fragrant mistresses;
Lost to all music now, since every thing
Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing.
Sick is the land to th' heart; and doth endure
More dangerous faintings by her desperate cure.
But if that golden age would come again,
And Charles here rule, as he before did reign;
If smooth and unperplex'd the seasons were,
As when the sweet Maria lived here;
I should delight to have my curls half drown'd
In Tyrian dews, and head with roses crown'd:
And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead,
Knock at a star with my exalted head.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Corinna
(written by taj mahal and jesse ed davis)
Just when you think you know me, think again
(corinna, corinna, corinna)
Hmm, aint nothin like my corinna (corinna)
(corinna) hmm, aint nothin like my corinna (corinna)
I got a bird wanna whistles
Baby, got a bird
Honey got a bird will sing
Baby, got a bird
Honey got a bird will sing
Without my corinna
Sure dont mean
Sure dont mean a natural thing
Oh, I learned to love you
Baby, for I call
Honey, for I call your name
Baby, for I call
Honey, for I call out your name
I wouldnt trade your love for money
Baby, youre my warm hearts
Honey, youre my warm hearts flame
Oh, oh, oh (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
(na, na, na, na, na, na, na (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Have mercy, have mercy, baby
Honey, youre my hard luck
Baby, youre my hard luck soul
Honey, youre my hard luck
Women, on my hard luck soul
Got a rainbow round my shoulder
Shine like silver
Looks like some ol fools gold
-musical interlude-
(ooh, ah, ooh)
(corinna) oh, oh
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, ooh
(corinna) (hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Well, I love you so much, honey
Gotta tell the world
Baby, baby, tell the world I do
(corinna)
Oh, honey tell the world
Baby, tell the world I do
You know, you know, you know, you know
Aint no man, aint no man in fourteen countries
Gonna love me baby
Baby like the way you do
Hey, hey, hey
I got a bird wanna whistle
Baby, got a bird
Honey, got a bird will sing
Honey got a bird
Baby, got a bird that will sing
Oh, without my corinna
Sure dont mean
Sure dont mean a natural thing
Gotta say it one more time (corinna) oh
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Oh (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothing like my corinna)
Aint nothin, nothin, nothin, nothin
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Tell the world, tell the world about it (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna) sing!
(corinna) (hmm) ooh
(aint nothin like my corinna) hee, hee
I like it when you...
(hmm, aint nothin like my)
Oh, oh, oh, oh, (corinna) oh
Corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Corinna, corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)
Corinna, oh, oh, corinna (corinna)
(hmm, aint nothin like my corinna)...
song performed by by Natalie Cole

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Corinna's Going A-Maying
Get up, get up for shame, the blooming Morn
Upon her wings presents the god unshorn.
See how Aurora throws her fair
Fresh-quilted colours through the air;
Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east,
Above an hour since; yet you not drest,
Nay! not so much as out of bed?
When all the birds have matins said,
And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin,
Nay, profanation, to keep in,
Whenas a thousand virgins on this day
Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May.
Rise; and put on your foliage, and be seen
To come forth, like the spring-time, fresh and green;
And sweet as Flora. Take no care
For jewels for your gown, or hair;
Fear not, the leaves will strew
Gems in abundance upon you;
Besides, the childhood of the day has kept,
Against you come, some orient pearls unwept;
Come and receive them while the light
Hangs on the dew-locks of the night;
And Titan on the eastern hill
Retires himself, or else stands still
Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying;
Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying.
Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark
How each field turns a street, each street a park
Made green and trimm'd with trees; see how
Devotion gives each house a bough
Or branch; each porch, each door ere this
An ark, a tabernacle is,
Made up of white-thorn, neatly interwove;
As if here were those cooler shades of love.
Can such delights be in the street
And open fields and we not see't?
Come, we'll abroad; and let's obey
The proclamation made for May,
And sin no more, as we have done, by staying;
But my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
There's not a budding boy, or girl, this day,
But is got up, and gone to bring in May.
A deal of youth, ere this, is come
Back, and with white-thorn laden, home.
Some have despatch'd their cakes and cream,
Before that we have left to dream;
And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth,
And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth;
Many a green-gown has been given;
Many a kiss, both odd and even;
Many a glance too has been sent
From out the eye, love's firmament;
Many a jest told of the keys betraying
This night, and locks pick'd, yet we're not a-Maying.
Come, let us go, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun;
And as a vapour, or a drop of rain,
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown'd with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.
poem by Robert Herrick

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The Voice And Viol
Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing
To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Freedom Of Choice
Maurice white, beloyd taylor & azar lawrence
You gave your vote to pass the law
Do you want to take it back
All the bad news we read about today
Is it because our systems on the rack
Can you make your dreams straight reality
Can you dig the prime interest rates
Do you think youd meet hospitality
If you went to the white house by mistake
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
How long I wonder,
People have to wait on equal opportunity
Instead of getting better,
Rain is getting wetter to fair reality
Employment line, jammed up behind
A smiling face with promises
Will all our hopes vanish in the soap
Cause youve been washed super clean with jive
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
song performed by by Earth Wind And Fire

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Help
Listen to the sound/
Of birds a’singin’/
Softly they are found/
In the air ringin’/
Buzz my life/
I’m alive and well/
Hard to smile sometimes/
But the truth will sell/
Baby/baby/
Hear my voice/
Sweet and sound/
I’m your clearest choice/
Near to me/
Are you mine? /
I’m losing myself/
I cannot find/
Fill my threshold/
With pain in disguise/
I will unfold/
Beneath my skin what fries! /
Baby/baby/
Hear my voice/
Sweet and sound/
I’m your clearest choice/
On my mind/
It is there/
My future existing/
In living air/
I am trying/
Tyo make it so hard/
I hate it so much/
Cuz the end is so far/
Baby/baby/
Hear my voice/
Sweet and sound/
I’m your clearest choice/
Feelings surpassed/
Blown away/
Will I come home/
Again to live another day/
Long gone/
Is myself/
I will never find it/
The answer which is help/
Baby/baby/
Hear my voice/
Sweet and sound/
I’m your clearest choice/
poem by Seanzie Haha

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On Julia's Voice
So smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice,
As, could they hear, the Damned would make no noise,
But listen to thee (walking in thy chamber)
melting melodious words to Lutes of Amber.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Sweet Precious Child
Heaven hear the unborn’s cry
Send an angel from above
Golden basket lined with fleece
Hold the gift er’ so gently
Sweet child without a voice
Precious child without a choice
Solemn thoughts from Heaven’s throne
Mighty hands receive them back
Single buds for your garden
Bloom against the angel’s song
Sweet child without a voice
Precious child without a choice
poem by Patricia Gale

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To Sapho
Sapho, I will chuse to go
Where the northern winds do blow
Endless ice, and endless snow;
Rather than I once would see
But a winter's face in thee,--
To benumb my hopes and me.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Freedom Of Choice
You gave your vote to pass the law
Do you want to take it back
All the bad news we read about today
Is it because our system's on the rack
Can you make your dreams straight reality
Can you dig the prime interest rates
Do you think you'd meet hospitality
If you went to the White House by mistake
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
You got the freedom of choice
You got to hold on and speak with your voice
How long I wonder
song performed by by Earth Wind & Fire

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Anthea
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.
poem by Robert Herrick

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Divorced from Dumb Reality - Number Lesson on Numb Pointless Love
DIVORCED FROM DUMB REALITY
My fun begun with number one,
swore to be true to number two,
happy to be with number three,
then to adore fair number four.
No more alive is number five,
mix stones and sticks Styx number six,
who’s in heaven, number seven?
its now too late for number eight.
Another line for number nine,
begin again with number ten.
13 May 1982 revised 20 January 2009
robi03_0199_robi03_0000 WXX_LXX
for previous version entitled Numbers see below
Numbers
My fun begun with number one,
swore to be true to number two,
happy to be with number three,
then to adore sweet number four.
No more alive is number five,
beset by tics was number six,
she’s in heaven, number seven,
its now too late for number eight.
Another line for number nine,
begin again for number ten.
13 May 1982
poem by Jonathan Robin

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Choices
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Lead into grace
Lead to corruption
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
A truth or lie has to be spoken
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
King or con has to be chosen
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Way of life complete or broken...broken
Choices
No more...choices
No more...choices
No more...choices
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Follow truth or stutter through a lie
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Will to push or give up and fall behind
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Live with peace or nurture your tragic life
Ini-Mini-Miny-Mo
Bite the bullet or swallow it whole
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
Point the finger at yourself
There's no choice
Anymore anyway...
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore Anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
Leaders are guilty of nothing
They're perfectly insane
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who would be left to blame
They're lost system of destruction
Flush all hope down the drain
But if they'd point the finger at themselves
Who is left to blame
Who is left to blame
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
We don't have a choice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a voice
Anymore anyway
We don't have a reason
Anymore anyway
We don't have control
Anymore anyway
We don't have opinions
Anymore anyway
There's no choice in freedom
There's no voice in freedom
Freedom, buy in
Freedom, sell out
Freedom, betray
Freedom, lay down
Freedom, corrupt
Freedom, opinion
Freedom, give up
Freedom, give in
song performed by by Mudvayne

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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