The Poetry Corner

The Hour-Glass

By Robert Herrick

That hour-glass which there you see With water fill'd, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers' tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th' upper to the under-glass, Do in a trickling manner tell, By many a watery syllable, That lovers' tears in lifetime shed Do restless run when they are dead.