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Robert Herrick

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Get up, sweet Slug-a-bed, and see
The dew bespangling herb and tree.
--
"Corinna's Going A-Maying".

 
Robert Herrick

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All dese governments and dis this and that, these people that say they're here to help, why them say you cannot smoke the herb? Herb... herb is a plant, you know? And when me check it, me can't find no reason. All them say is, 'it make you rebel'. Against what?

 
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I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
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A nest of robins in her hair;
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Poems are made by fools like me,
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He's, I guess you could say, with all due respect, the flavor of the week because Herb Cain [sic] is the one up there who doesn’t look like he's part of that permanent political class. Herb Cain — he came from a working-class family. He's had to make it on his own all these years. We respect that.

 
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On either side of them, as they glided onwards, the rich meadow-grass seemed that morning of a freshness and a greenness unsurpassable. Never had they noticed the roses so vivid, the willow-herb so riotous, the meadow-sweet so odorous and pervading. Then the murmur of the approaching weir began to hold the air, and they felt a consciousness that they were nearing the end, whatever it might be, that surely awaited their expedition.

 
Kenneth Grahame
 

Many mellow Cydonian suckets
Sweet apples, anthosmial, divine,
From the ruby-rimmed beryline buckets
Star-gemmed, lily-shaped, hyaline;
Like the sweet golden goblet found growing
On the wild emerald cucumber-tree,
Rich, brilliant, like chrysophrase glowing
Was my beautiful Rosalie Lee.

 
Thomas Holley Chivers
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