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Not Every Day Fit For Verse

by Robert Herrick, 1648

’Tis not ev’ry day that I
Fitted am to prophesy;
No; but when the spirit fills
The fantastic pannicles
Full of fire, then I write
As the godhead doth indite.
Thus enrag’d, my lines are hurled,
Like the Sybil’s, through the world.
Look how next the holy fire
Either slakes, or doth retire;
So the fancy cools, till when
That brave spirit comes again.

Published in Hesperides

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