The Parting Verse, the Feast There Ended

Loth to depart, but yet at last each oneBack must now go to's habitation;Not knowing thus much when we once do sever,Whether or no that we shall meet here ever.As for myself, since time a thousand caresAnd griefs hath filed upon my silver hairs,'Tis to be doubted whether I next yearOr no shall give ye a re-meeting here.If die I must, then my last vow shall be,You'll with a tear or two remember me,

Your sometime poet; but if fates do giveMe longer date and more fresh springs to live,Oft as your field shall her old age renew,Herrick shall make the meadow-verse for you.