Look how our foul days do exceed our fair;
And as our bad, more than our good works are,
E'en so those lines, pen'd by my wanton wit,
Treble the number of these good I've writ.
Things precious are least numerous: men are prone
To do ten bad for one good action.
His Confession
Robert Herrick
(1)
Poem topics: precious, action, good, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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