Robert Herrick

If little labour. little are our gaines:
Man's fortunes are according to his paines.

If little labour. little are our gaines:
Man's fortunes are according to his paines.

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
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I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers:
Of April, May, of June, and July flowers.
I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.

No day is wholly unproductive of good.

No day is wholly unproductive of good.

Who with a little cannot be content, endures an everlasting punishment.

Who with a little cannot be content, endures an everlasting punishment.

Fair daffadils, we weep to see
You haste away so soone;
As yet the early-rising sun
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Fair daffadils, we weep to see
You haste away so soone;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained its noone.
. . . .
We have short time to stay as you,
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay
As you or anything.