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Robert Herrick - His Poetry His Pillar
Work rating: Medium

Only a little more
I have to write:
Then I`ll give o`er,
And bid the world good-night.

`Tis but a flying minute,
That I must stay,
Or linger in it:
And then I must away.

O Time, that cut`st down all,
And scarce leav`st here
Memorial
Of any men that were;

—How many lie forgot
In vaults beneath,
And piece-meal rot
Without a fame in death?

Behold this living stone
I rear for me,
Ne`er to be thrown
Down, envious Time, by thee.

Pillars let some set up
If so they please;
Here is my hope,
And my Pyramides.
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