And with our broth, and bread, and bits, sir friend,
Youve fared well : pray make an end ;
Two days youve larded here ; a third, ye know,
Makes guests and fish smell strong ; pray go – Robert Herrick
Who with a little cannot be content, endures an everlasting punishment. – Robert Herrick
The body is the souls poor house or home, whose ribs the laths are and whose flesh the loam. – Robert Herrick
Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score;
Then to that twenty, add a hundred more:
A thousand to that hundred: so kiss on,
To make that thousand up a million.
Treble that million, and when that is done,
Lets kiss afresh, as when we first begun. – Robert Herrick