The Poetry Corner

The Deluge.

By Robert Herrick

Drowning, drowning, I espy Coming from my Julia's eye: 'Tis some solace in our smart, To have friends to bear a part: I have none; but must be sure Th' inundation to endure. Shall not times hereafter tell This for no mean miracle? When the waters by their fall Threaten'd ruin unto all, Yet the deluge here was known Of a world to drown but one.