But Herrick did not love his country home and parish or his people.
Yet though Herrick hated Devonshire, or at least said so, it was this same wild country that called forth some of his finest poems.
Yet it is not the ruggedness of the Devon land we feel in Herrick's poems.
Herrick was a religious poet too, and here is something that he wrote for children in his Noble Numbers.
While Herrick lived his quiet, dull life and wrote poetry in the depths of Devonshire, the country was being torn asunder and tossed from horror to horror by the great Civil War.
So the years passed for Herrick we hardly know how.
After that, all that we know of him is that at Dean Prior "Robert Herrick vicker was buried ye 15th day of October 1674." Thus in twilight ends the life of the greatest lyric poet of the seventeenth century.
If Herrick was a lover of flowers, Marvell was a lover of gardens, woods and meadows.
Yet although Marvell loved Nature, he did not live, like Herrick, far from the stir of war, but took his part in the strife of the times.