Author Robert Herrick To morrow, Julia, I betimes must rise, For some small fault, to offer sacrifice: The Altar's ready; Fire to consume The fat; breathe thou, and there's the rich perfume. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments