Verse > Anthologies > T. H. Ward, ed. > The English Poets > Vol. II. Ben Jonson to Dryden
Thomas Humphry Ward, ed.  The English Poets.  1880–1918.
Vol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden
By George Herbert (1593–1633)
HE that is weary, let him sit;
            My soul would stir
And trade in courtesies and wit;
            Quitting the fur
To cold complexions needing it.        5
Man is no star, but a quick coal
            Of mortal fire:
Who blows it not, nor doth control
            A faint desire,
Lets his own ashes choke his soul.
*        *        *        *        *
Oh that I were an orange-tree,
            That busy plant!
Then should I ever laden be,
            And never want
Some fruit for him that dressèd me.        15
But we are still too young or old;
            The man is gone
Before we do our wares unfold;
            So we freeze on,
Until the grave increase our cold.        20

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