iiiSliiiiiiliiil!^ WM^ m§ 
 
 M\ 
 
 ISK 
 
 t \ L»lltL»Llfc»ftV 
 
 iliiii 
 
 Pi 
 
 illiL...
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 4<
 
 iLibrarp of mh :autl)ors
 
 " Ships lately from the islands came. 
 
 With wines, thou never beMrd'st their narae. 
 
 Montefiasco, Fronlininc, 
 
 Vernaccio, and that old sack 
 
 Young Herric took to entertaine 
 
 The muses in a sprightly vein." 
 
 To Parson Weeks, an liivitation to London. 
 Ilusarum Delicite, 1(556. 
 
 And then Flaccus Horace, 
 
 He was but a sowr-ass, 
 And good for nothing but Lyricks ; 
 
 There's but ( >ne to be found 
 
 In all English ground 
 Writes as well ;— who is bight Kobert Herit-k. 
 
 Naju ■upon Parnassus, ItioS, Sign, a 3 verso.
 
 
 
 fjjcbctur CfcruoJaurea^K) vlvcu too ■ 
 \Jcmpora, etJMa x^^iSi wMS recCvniaet Oiiva., 
 Scilicet cxcfu/is 'VcrsibUi'».XrTna tuis . 
 
 Time 3uvsnis aisca.t.JirnixniLXir''' '^'
 
 ^HESPERIDES 
 
 THE POEMS AND OTHER REMAINS 
 
 OF ROBERT ^ERRICK NOW 
 
 FIRST COLLECTED. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 W. CAREW HAZLITT, 
 
 VOLUME THE FIRST. 
 
 LONDON 
 JOHN RUSSELL SMITH 
 
 SOHO SQT7AEE 
 1869
 
 CHISWICK PRESS ;—r[lIXTFD BY WHTTTINGHAM AND \VTI,K1N3| 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANOKRY LANK. 
 
 1 «t<('> '' < 
 
 © r c ft 
 
 « C <4 ea 
 
 I" « * * J
 
 35-10 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 WO or three years ago, I had several 
 conversations with the publisher of the 
 present edition of Herrick's works on 
 the subject of a new and improved 
 issue of the Hesperides and other Poems. 
 The publisher has had it indeed in his thoughts 
 for a very long time to reprint the book ; but his 
 plan, unluckily, did not extend beyond a mere 
 verbatim copy of the two volumes, which appeared 
 under the auspices of the late Mr. Singer in 1846.' 
 I believe that he subsequently, on the representations 
 of myself and others, was induced to enlarge his 
 scheme to the extent of including in an Appendix 
 the few pieces found in the Ashmolean and Rawlin- 
 son MSS. But much more was capable of being 
 done for Herrick ; and it appeared to me, that it 
 was emphatically desirable that no new edition of the 
 poet should be allowed to pass the press without such 
 additions and corrections as I and others felt to be 
 necessary and feasible. 
 
 Thus stood the question, when it came to my 
 knowledge, that the "Hesperides" and "Noble 
 Numbers" were printed off, and that the volume was 
 expected to be out very shortly. Under these cir- 
 cumstances and at this stage it was that I presumed, 
 in the absence of any one else, to interpose, and I 
 
 ' Mr. Singer's " Biographical Notice" is little more than 
 a lame paraphrase of that attached to the edition of 1823. 
 
 48B4EG
 
 vi PRE FA CE. 
 
 prevailed on the publisher to put the book into my 
 hands, and to postpone its appearance, until it could 
 be rendered a little worthier of the poet, whose de- 
 lightful compositions it enshrines. 
 
 Very numerous emendations and augmentations 
 have now, as will be seen, been introduced into the 
 preliminary pages, and many errors by Nichols, 
 Singer, and others, have been rectified. I think it 
 just to remark, that there is very little, if any thing, 
 however, in my new notes and particulars, which it 
 would not have been practicable for my predecessors 
 to have obtained and utilized, if they had chosen 
 to take the trouble. I have indicated my share in 
 the Memoir and Notes by insertions between 
 brackets. 
 
 It is strange enough that none of the editors of 
 Herrick should have observed, that in the first and 
 subsequent impressions of " Witts Recreations," 
 1640. &c are printed a considerable number of 
 pieces by this writer, some common to the mis- 
 cellany mentioned and to " Hesperides," others 
 peculiar to the former, yet (if my opinion be correct) 
 unquestionably from the same pen. Those which 
 fall within the latter category are as follow : — 
 
 1. On Julias Weeping. 
 
 2. On a Beautifull Virgin. 
 
 3. On Chloris ^\'alking in the Snow. 
 
 4. A Loving Bargain. 
 
 5. To Celia Weeping. 
 
 6. The Wake. 
 
 7. Domina Margarita Saudis. Anagr., &c. 
 These now form part of the Appendix. Six or 
 
 eight other poems also occur, but the text presents 
 no noticeable variations from that given in the 
 common printed collection. The titles, however, 
 sometimes differ. The poem headed in Hesperides 
 " A Short Hymne to Venus " is called in Witts 
 Recreations " A Vow to Cupid ; " the verses in
 
 PREFACE. yW 
 
 Hesperides " To the Maides to Walke Abroad," 
 are entitled in the other book " Abroad with the 
 Maids," the stanzas addressed in Hesperides " To 
 Electra," and beginning 
 
 " 'Tis ev'ning, my sweet " 
 
 are in the Recreations directed " To Julia ; " and 
 (not to enter into longer particulars) the well-known 
 poem of " The Wake " is called in the Recreations 
 *' Alvar and Anthea," while a couple of stanzas 
 which follow with the heading " The Wake," do not 
 seem to be inserted at all in Hesperides. 
 
 In Harl. MS. 6917, are copies of the Epitha- 
 lamium on Sir Clipesby Crewe ; of the song 
 beginning 
 
 " Good morrow to the day so faire — " 
 
 and twelve apparently unpublished lines headed 
 "Upon Parting." The former I have given in the 
 Appendix as the text exhibited important changes, 
 an entire stanza in the "Epithalamium " having seem- 
 ingly dropped out of the printed copy. In Add. 
 MS. 11,811 in the British Museum, are other poems 
 by Herrick. One of these is " The Fairy King," and 
 as it struck me as most probably one of the series of 
 elvish lyrics composed by Herrick (although inserted 
 in the MS. under another name), I have included it 
 in the Appendix with a second copy of the same 
 production preserved in MS. Ashmole 38, with the 
 title of " King Oberon's Apparel." 
 
 Harl. MS. 3865 is said to contain poems by Her- 
 rick, by a misprint in the Index to that collection. 
 The article in question is the well-known copy of 
 Henryson's Scotish ^sop. 
 
 In the Appendix are likewise given the fourteen 
 letters addressed by the poet to his uncle during 
 1G13-17. 
 
 Many of Herrick's pieces are copied almost word 
 for word, without acknowledgment, by Henry Bold
 
 viii PREFACE. 
 
 in his " Wit a Sporting, in a Pleasant Grove of New 
 Fancies," a trashy volume printed in 1657, 8vo. A 
 Greek version of the poem, " On Celia Weeping," 
 was inserted in a rare volume by Henry Stubbe of 
 Christ Church, Oxford, entitled, " Delicise Poetarum 
 Anglicanorum in Gr^cum versse," Oxon. 1658, 8vo. ; 
 but it is here headed '■'•Julia Weeping," under which 
 name occurs also in " Witts Recreations " a distinct 
 little poem, or rather epigram, extending only to a 
 single couplet. 
 
 Herrick published his poems at an age when 
 youth and inexperience could not be urged in ex- 
 tenuation of the blemishes which they presented. 
 The author was fifty-seven years old when the 
 " Hesperides " issued from the press, replete with 
 beauties and excellencies, and at the same time 
 abounding in passages of outrageous grossness. The 
 title was perhaps rather apt to mislead, for besides 
 golden apples, this garden assuredly contained many 
 rank tares and poisonous roots. It would scarcely 
 suffice to plead the freedom and breadth of speech 
 customary among all classes and with both sexes at 
 that period. Some share of the blame must, beyond 
 question, be laid to Herrick's voluptuousness of 
 temperament, and not very cleanly ardour of imagina- 
 tion ; yet, after all deductions which it is possible 
 to make, what a noble salvage remains! Enough 
 beauty, wit, nay piety, to convert even the prudish 
 to an admiration of the genius which shines trans- 
 parent through all. This fine old fellow, this joyous 
 heart, who lived to be eighty-three, in spite of " dull 
 Devonshire " and the bad times, wrote almost as 
 much as Carew, Lovelace, and Suckling united, and 
 how much there is in his weed-choked garden, 
 which is comparable with their best compositions ! 
 How little we know of him ! how scantily he has 
 been realized to us ! Could we but raise up for a 
 summer afternoon the Devonshire which he lived in,
 
 PEE FACE. ix 
 
 and the people with whom he mixed, or summon the 
 ghost of faithful Prudence Baldwin, we might be 
 furnished with inspiration to do something better 
 than the bare sketch which follows. 
 
 To William Perry-Herrick, Esq., of Beau- 
 manor Park, near Loughborough, Leicestershire, I 
 am happy to have the opportunity of expressing my 
 sincerest thanks for his valuable help towards my 
 attempt to render the present edition of the " Hes- 
 perides" as satisfactory as possible. Dui-ing a recent 
 visit to Beaunianor, I transcribed from the originals 
 the letters to Sir William Herrick (or Heyrick) ; and 
 from the family papers Mr. Herrick supplied me in 
 the most obliging manner at the same time with 
 several new items of information illustrative of the 
 early life of his illustrious kinsman. 
 
 W. C. H. 
 
 Kensington, 
 
 Christmas, 1868. 
 
 9^f.r^%4^.^M
 
 [BIOGEAPHICAL NOTICE.] 
 
 ;^^F the " Hesperides " ofllerrick it has 
 been said with truth, that " there is no 
 collection of poetry in our language, 
 which, in some respects, more nearly 
 resembles the Carmina of Catullus " 
 both in beauties and defects ; but our countryman 
 has the advantage of the poet of Verona, that in ad- 
 dition to his festive and amatory spirit, we are often 
 charmed with pictures of country life and manners, 
 notices of old customs and popular superstitions, and 
 with playful incursions into Fairyland. Indeed, the 
 versatility of Herrick in catching the spirit of Ana- 
 creon, of Horace, or the pathos of Tibullus, as the 
 occasion required, gives a varied charm to his volume 
 which it is to be regretted should ever be disturbed 
 by pollutions which were the common vice of his age. 
 Our poet was descended in the male line from an 
 ancient and honourable family in Leicestershire, 
 Robert Eyrick, of Houghton, who lived in the middle 
 of the fifteenth century, being his immediate ances- 
 tor, many of whose descendants of mark are recorded 
 in the ample account of the family collected by the 
 diligence of the worthy John Nichols, in his History 
 of Leicestershire.' Thomas Eyrick settled in Leices- 
 
 [' For the pedigrees of Herrick of Houghton (mis-spelled 
 Haughton in some old gazetteers) and Beaumauor, see Ap- 
 pendix, No. v.]
 
 xii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 ter, and became a member of the Corporation in 
 1511. John Eyrick was admitted a freeman of the 
 town in 1535, and afterwards held the office of 
 Mayor ; of [this gentleman] Nicholas Heryck, the 
 poet's father, was the second son.^ Nicholas, it 
 appears, was articled about the year 1556, to a 
 goldsmith in Cheapside, in which place and trade 
 he afterwards himself settled, marrying, in 1582, 
 Julian, daughter of William Stone, of Seghenoe, 
 in Bedfordshire. The poet was one of the fruits of 
 this union ; he was born in [Wood Street ?] Cheap- 
 side, and baptized at the church of St. Nicholas 
 Vedast, August 24, 1591.^ His father did not sur- 
 vive his birth much more than a year, for he died 
 November 9th, 1592, of the injuries received in a fall 
 from an upper window of his house into the street, 
 and the circumstance of his will having been made 
 
 \} There were at least two sons besides him, namely, 
 Kobert He}'ricke who, in 1615, was an alderman of Leicester, 
 and William, referred to presently. See " Notes and Queries'' 
 for Dec. 17, 1859. At Beaumanor are two portraits of Sir 
 William Heyrick, one of his wife, and one of his mother 
 (Mary Bond, who died in 16 11, an. ajt. 97); there is no clue 
 to the artists.] 
 
 * [The poet") appears to have had two elder brothers; 
 Thomas, who was placed with Mr. Massam, a merchant in 
 London, but in 1610 appears to have retired into the 
 country, and to have been afterwards settled in a small farm. 
 To him the poem of " A Country Life" is addressed. This 
 Thomas, it is believed, was the father of Thomas, who in 
 1688 resided at Market Harborough, and grandfiither of 
 Thomas, curate of that town, who published in 1691 a 
 volume of poems; he was of Peter House, Cambridge, and 
 dedicated his poems to Katharine, third wife of Lord Roos, 
 afterwards Duke of Rutland. The principal poem in the 
 volume, " The Submarine Voyage," is inscribed to the 
 young Lord Roos. 
 
 Another brother, Nicholas, was a Levant merchant, and 
 married Susanna, daughter of Dr. William Salter. 
 
 The verses "To his Dying Brother" were addressed to 
 this posthumous child, William.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xiii 
 
 but two days before this event, makes it more than 
 probable that the fall was not accidental. 
 
 [It was suspected, in fact, that Nicholas Herrick 
 had been guilty of self-destruction, and from papers 
 in the possession of the family, it appears that a lonjr 
 and tiresome litigation ensued, which resulted, how- 
 ever, in the defeat of Dr. Fletcher, Bishop of Bristol, 
 who, as high almoner, had laid claim to the sroods 
 and chattels of the deceased. The matter was re- 
 ferred to arbitration, and the bishop was awarded a 
 sum of 2201. in satisfaction of all pretensions. It is 
 not recorded what the finding of the coroner's inquest 
 was ; but as the arbitrators had laid down that in 
 case the death should be found accidental, adminis- 
 tration should be granted to the widow (the deceased 
 having, as it was thought, died intestate), and ns 
 this was the course actually pursued, the fair 
 inference is, that the jury returned the death a 
 casualty. 
 
 But subsequently a will was found, bearing date 
 Nov. 7, 1592 (two days before his death), whereby, 
 after commending his soul to the Almighty, an 1 
 directing his body to be buried in the parish church, 
 he says :— ^" My worldly goods I will and give as the 
 Lord hath given me freely in this sorte," &c. By 
 this instrument he left the third of his property to 
 his widow, and the rest to be divided amono- his 
 children.] • 
 
 Though not extremely wealthy, he appears to have 
 been in very good circumstances, if we consider the 
 difference in the value of money at that time. He 
 estimated his property at £.3000, but it realized up- 
 wards of £5000. The poet's mother was thus left a 
 widow, and at the time of her husband's death was 
 enceinte, giving birtii to a posthumous son William 
 in 1593. 
 
 By his will [also] the children were left to the 
 guardianship of their uncle, afterwards Sir William
 
 xiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 Heyrick, of Beaumanor," [near Loughborough, a pro- 
 perty which Sir William acquired about 1595, but of 
 which he did not, it seems, enter into permanent 
 
 [' In 1603, William Herrick was appointed jeweller to the 
 king for life.* This must have been a ratlier profitable 
 post, as we find that on the 2nd June, 1604, the sum of 
 j£6,422 9s. l\d. was paid to Sir John Spilman, for pearls 
 bought of him and Herrick. Ou the 11th June following, 
 the same parties received on account of jewels purchased, 
 ^£•8,723 9s. 7]/l.\ On the 14th, the king granted to his 
 favoured servant the second leversion of one of the four 
 tellerships of the Exchequer, and on the 20th the grant was 
 made out or confirmed. Before June 26, 1605, Herriclc had 
 been knighted, for a payment to him was ordered under that 
 date, in which he is described as Sir William Herrick. In 
 1607, Sir William's name appears among those to whom 
 grants had been made of rectory lands, and who were 
 obliged by bond "to pay the value of the woods growing 
 thereon as per survey, the woods being found of small 
 value." On the 27th of October, this year, a discharge was 
 granted to Herrick and others of these values. 
 
 On the 27th November, 1611, there was a re-grant to 
 Herrick of the tellership of the Exchequer in reversion, 
 after the four persons already promised ; but .'i few days after- 
 wards, Bowj-er, one of these, seems to have been obliged to 
 waive his prior claim, and was placed below Herrick in the 
 list of reversionists. But the matter must be said to be 
 rather obscure; and so far as the State Paper Office is con- 
 cerned, there appears to be no means of knowing whether 
 Herrick succeeded after all in his object. At Beaumanor, 
 however, is a long and valuable series of receipts for moneys 
 paid out of the. Exchequer during Herrick's term of office, 
 and there can be little doubt that he obtained the Teller- 
 ship, and enjoyed its emoluments during several years. 
 
 On the 2nd January, 1613-14, we find Herrick, Sir 
 Thomas Hunt, and Sir Tiiomas Hewitt, writing a joint letter 
 to Sir Kobert Cotton respecting the precedence of knighted 
 aldermen. On March 26, 1617, the fines for alienations 
 and the profits of the Hanaper were granted to Herrick, 
 
 [* Calendars of State Papers, Domestic Series, 1603-10, 
 p. 7, etc. The office was a patent one, and the fee <£"150 a 
 year.] 
 
 [t Other entries of a similar kind occur ibid.'\
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xv 
 
 possession till about 1617']. The poet's youth ap- 
 pears to have been passed in London, and from more 
 than one allusion to his "beloved Westminster" in 
 the following poems, we may fairly presume that this 
 venerable seminary of education may add him to her 
 list of worthies.'^ 
 [On the 25th September, 1607,* Herrick was bound 
 
 Sir Paul Banniug, and Sir Baptist Hicks, until the ±"7,500 
 advanced by them to the kiufj were repaid with interest; 
 but <£'8000 were tirst to be paid out of the sai<l fines to Sir 
 Noel Caron and two others. On Oct 19, 1622, Herrick 
 received confirmation of ihe manor of Beaumaiior and other 
 hinds, CO. Leicester, with an alteration of the tenure from 
 knight's- service to soccage. In December, 1623, Herrick 
 surrendered his reversion of the tellership, under what cir- 
 cumstances, or how, or why, we are left uninformed ; and 
 this is the last entry relating to him. He died, as the pedi- 
 gree given elsewhere shows, March 2, 1652 3, at a great 
 age, having represented Leicester in three Parliaments, and 
 laid the foundation of a fortune and estate, which still 
 flourish unim])aired.] 
 
 [' See " ISJotes and Queries" for December 17, 1859. 
 The present manor-house is the third which has been, so 
 far as can be ascertained, erected on the site. The house 
 which Sir William Heyrick himself occupied was a pile sur- 
 rounded by a double moat, and of extreme antiquity. Por- 
 tions of it, indeed, were supposed to be as old as the reign 
 of Edward IH. This Avas pulled down bv the grandfather 
 of the present owner, who in turn demolished the more 
 modern erection, and built on the ground the palatial struc- 
 ture which now forms the seat of the Herricks. The moats 
 have been filled up.] 
 
 •^ In his " Tears to Thamysis," he thus expresses his 
 regret at leaving the scenes of his youth : 
 
 Never again sliall I with finny oar 
 Put from or draw unto the faithful shore ; 
 And landing here, or safely landing there. 
 Make way to my beloved Westminster; 
 Or to the golden Cheapside, where the earth 
 Of Julian Herrick gave to me my birth. 
 
 [' This information was kindly extracted for me from 
 the family papers by Mr. W. Perry-IIerrick, who possesses 
 the original indentures. The term of apprenticeship appears 
 to have been shortened to seven years in Charles the First's
 
 xvi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 apprentice for ten years to his uncle, the rich gold- 
 smith ; but the future bard and divine does not seem 
 to have continued long at this doubtless unpalatable 
 vocation. 
 
 Wood knew so little of the poet's life, that he ac- 
 tually confounded him with his cousin, Robert Her- 
 rick, a son of Sir William Herrick, of Beaumanor. 
 This namesake of the author of " Hesperides " was 
 of St. John's College, Oxford, and afterwards entered 
 the army, in which service he died abroad in lo39, 
 having only attained the rank of lieutenant. Some 
 of the entries in his father's account-book refer to 
 him, I suspect, and not to his cousin. The fact is, 
 that the poet] was entered as fellow commoner of St. 
 John's College, Cambridge, in 161 [4-5], and from 
 several letters to his uncle, chiefly for pecuniary 
 [help towards his support at college' and the purchase 
 of necessaries,] it appears that he remained at St. 
 John's about three years, and then removed to 
 Trinity Hall, with the intention of studying for the 
 law, but where, as he says, " by reason of the privacie 
 of the house, the quantitle of expence will be 
 shortened." It does not appear that his legal studies 
 were long persevered in, as before he quitted the 
 University he took his degree not in law but In arts. 
 
 [In the account-book of Sir William Herrick pre- 
 served at Beaumanor are entries of various payments 
 
 time, from an allusion in Lupton's '' London and the Country 
 Carbonadoed and Quartered in several Characters," 1632; it 
 has since been abridged to five. 
 
 [' See Appendix, No. IV., and particularly Letter IL 
 Nichols in his "History of Leicestershire," vol. ii. part ii. 
 p. 631, states incorrectly that he selected the six letters which 
 he printed (not too accurately) in his work from a great 
 number ; he had access to precisely the same number a-* the 
 present writer, namely, fourteen ; but that there may have 
 been many more at one yieriod, seems not at all unlikely. 
 All the modern editors of the " Hesperides " cop\' Nichols's 
 error.]
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE, xvii 
 
 to Herrick the poet, and the original letters to his 
 uncle bear at the foot, in some cases, the receipt of 
 the person by whose hands the remittances came to 
 him. 
 
 Mr. W. Perry-Herrick has plausibly suggested 
 that the payments made by Sir William to his 
 nephew were simply on account of the fortune which 
 belonged to Robert in right of his father, and which 
 his uncle held in trust ; this was about .£400 ; and 
 I think from allusions in the letters printed elsewhere, 
 that this view may be the correct one, especially 
 taking into consideration the state of manners at 
 that period, and the tone in which superiors were 
 addressed even by their most intimate and dearest 
 kindred. 
 
 Herrick took his A.B. in January, 1616-17, and 
 his Master's degree in 1620. As there are no ma- 
 triculations at St. John's, Cambridge, of an earlier 
 date than 1628-9, it is not surprising that that of the 
 poet has not been discovered. Herrick is last re- 
 corded as a defaulter for commons in 1 629, the year 
 of his presentation to Dean Prior ; whence it may be 
 inferred that he removed from Cambridge direct to 
 his living. 
 
 Herrick stood indebted to his college fovbattles in the 
 year of his departure from the university £10 16s. 9d. 
 (including his unpaid caution-money — £3) ; and he 
 appears to have discharged the caution, and to have 
 left the balance owing. These particulars may be 
 thought trivial ; but as the erroneous idea has been 
 favoured by his biographers, that he was heavily in 
 debt at this time, the true nature and extent of his 
 pecuniary obligations might, it was thought, be pointed 
 out with advantage. It was in fact the rule, rather 
 than the exception, for the young collegians of those 
 days (as of these) to be behind-hand with their pay- 
 ments, and so compromise their tutors, who were 
 sufiposed to be answerable to the college. Herrick's 
 
 b
 
 xviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 name is only one of several, •which appear on the 
 debit-side of" the Trinity-hall account-books.] 
 
 He subsequently obtained the patronage of the 
 Earl of Exeter, [and] it appears that by his recom- 
 mendation he was presented to the vicarage of Dean 
 Prior, in Devonshire, which became vacant by the 
 promotion of Dr. Barnaby Potter to the see of Car- 
 lisle. 
 
 [Dean-Prior, or Dean-Priors, a village between 
 Ashburton and Brent, in the archdeaconry of Tot- 
 ness, was valued in the king's books at £24 ; its 
 annual value was £50 ; and the presentation, in 
 Herrick's time, was in the Giles or Gyles family. 
 On what authority he is stated to have received the 
 vicarage from the king, I must confess myself igno- 
 rant ; it is far more probable that he managed, 
 through Lord Exeter or otherwise, to enlist in his 
 favour the interest of Sir John Giles, who was then 
 patron, and who lies buried in the chancel of the 
 church.] 
 
 Wood tells us, that " he here exercised his muse 
 as well in poetry as in other learning, and became 
 much beloved by the gentry in those- parts for his 
 Uorid'^ahd witty discourses." ^~"\ 
 
 Whether he had acquired habits which made the 
 tranquil life of a country clergyman irksome to him, 
 or from whatever cause, if we may judge from 
 passages in his poems, it would appear that he was 
 not quite reconciled to the dulness and obscurity of 
 his retirement. The river of Deanbourn, near which 
 he resided, he describes as rockie and rude, and the 
 inhabitants of its vicinity are characterized as 
 
 A people currish ; churlish as the seas ; 
 And rude, almost, as rudest salvages. 
 
 And in another place he says : 
 
 More discontents I never had, 
 Since I was born, than here ;
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xix 
 
 Where I have been, and still am sad, 
 
 In this dull Devonshire. ~ 
 
 Yet it was during this period of his life that, thrown 
 upon the resources of his imagination, the beauties of 
 surrounding nature seem to have awakened in his 
 mind the love of song, and, as it has been happily 
 said,' " he acquired that love of flowers and of fra- 
 grance, which imparted to his verse the beauty of the 
 one, and the sweetness of the other." He himself 
 seems to be sensible of this, for he adds, 
 
 Yet justly, too, 1 must confess 
 
 I ne'er invented such 
 Ennobled numbers for the press 
 
 Than where I loath'd so much. 
 
 The greater part of the poems contained in his 
 " Hesperides" bear evidence of having been composed 
 during his first residence at Dean Prior ; many of 
 the most beautiful are upon rural subjects, and 
 others are addressed to natives of Devonshire. . . . 
 [It remains to be noticed, however, that Herrick's 
 earliest performance was possibly his Elegy on Lord 
 Bernard Stuart, a Scottish military hero, himself an 
 autlior, whose memory had been revived in 1619 
 by Walter Quin's poem. But this is a mere hy- 
 pothesis.]^ 
 
 In 1648, he was ejected from his vicarage by the 
 predominant puritan party, to whom it is obvious 
 that his loyal spirit must have rendered him ob- 
 noxious, but it appears that his departure from Dean 
 Prior was accompanied by the regrets of all his flock. 
 
 [' Introduction to Edit. 1823, xi.] 
 
 * Yet we may also gather that some of them are to be 
 attributed to the period previous to his taking orders, for he 
 himself says : 
 
 Before I went 
 To banishment 
 Into the loathed West, 
 I could rehearse 
 A lyric verse, 
 And speak it with the best.
 
 XX BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 If we may give credit to his own effusions upon 
 this occasion, he rather hailed his expulsion as a de- 
 liverance than viewed it as a misfortune : he had 
 probably long sighed for the intercourse of more con- 
 genial spirits, and the excitement attendant upon the 
 wit-combats at the Mermaid ; and for the converse 
 of such men as Ben Jonson, Selden, Charles Cotton, 
 Denhani, and others, with whom he appears to have 
 lived in habits of intimacy : and he thus exults in the 
 prospect of exchanging what he considered as his 
 banishment for more congenial scenes : 
 
 From the dull confines of the drooping west, 
 To see the daj'-spring from the pregnant east, 
 Ravisht in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly 
 To thee, blest place of my nativity ; 
 Loudon my home is : though by hard fate sent 
 Into a long and dreary banishment. 
 
 With little expectation of being restored to his 
 living, and perhaps with no wish to return, on his 
 ari'ival in London, he took up his residence in St. 
 Anne's, Westminster, and assumed the lay habit. 
 The payment of fifths of the revenues of his vicarage, 
 which was customary upon ejectment, was soon 
 cruelly discontinued, and Walker, in his " Sufferings 
 of the Clergy," states that he subsisted by charity.' 
 The idea of collecting and publishing his poems at 
 this period, therefore, may have originated in an 
 honest desire to contribute to his own necessities. . . . 
 As he wrote for bread, we may hope that it was 
 rather from necessity than choice, that, to suit them 
 to the depraved taste of the times, some things were 
 [retained] which under other circumstances his better 
 feelings would have prompted him to omit. 
 
 [There was a foolish tradition at Dean Prior in 
 the last century,] that Herrick was the originator of 
 " Poor Eobin's Almanack," and Nichols remarks, that 
 
 [' But his uncle was still living, and his relations do not 
 seem to have been at all needy.]
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xxi 
 
 his poverty during his residence in London renders 
 this not improbable ; but it appears that this ahnanack 
 was first published in 1661 or 1662, so that if Her- 
 rick was the author, it can scarcely be attributed to 
 his poverty, as he was then restored to his vicarage. 
 That he may have engaged in other literary pursuits 
 during his sojourn in London is highly probable, but 
 none of the fruits of his labour are upon record. 
 
 [Herrick, however, had been, prior to his eject- 
 ment, a contributor to a little volume printed in 
 1635,^ and in 1639, was entered at Stationers' Hall 
 what was probably either a very small tract or a 
 mere broadside, namely, " His Mistress Shade," by 
 Robert Herrick. This was followed in 1640, while 
 he was still in possession of his living, by " The 
 Several Poems Written by Robert Herrick." But 
 no separate publication anterior to 1647-8, when his 
 " Hesperides" and " Noble Numbers" were printed 
 together in a thick octavo, has ever been met with. 
 
 Several of the poems which occur in this collec- 
 tion are also found, as I have already remarked, in 
 the later editions of " Witts Recreations," 1650, 8vo. 
 &c., where they stand without name of author, and 
 sometimes under varying titles, almost as if they had 
 been derived from some independent source.]"^ 
 
 [A generation ago,] Herrick's name was yet known 
 to the older inhabitants of Dean Prior, and Mr. 
 Nichols found [in or about 1796] that the "Farewell 
 to Dean Bourn" was still traditionally remembered, 
 though imperfectly, as it had never been committed 
 to writing, but conveyed from father to son by oral 
 instruction. 
 
 On the publication of Dr. Nott's Selections from 
 Herrick's "Hesperides" in 1810, an article appeared in 
 
 [' "A Description of the King and Queen of Fayries," 
 &c., more particularly described hereafter.] 
 [^ Appendix, No. III. ]
 
 xxii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 the " Quarterly Review " for August of that year, [from 
 the pen of Mr. Barron Field, the well-known friend 
 of Coleridge and Lamb ;] ' and as the account of a 
 visit he made to Dean Prior in quest of traditional 
 information about our poet is brief and interesting, 
 it may with propriety find a place here. 
 
 " Being in Devonshire durin<i the last summer, we 
 took an opportunity of visiting Dean Prior, for the 
 purpose of making some inquiries concerning Her- 
 rick, who, from the circumstance of having been 
 vicar of that parish (where he is still talked of as a 
 poet, a wit, and a hater of the country,) for twenty 
 years, might be supposed to have left some unrecorded 
 memorials of his existence behind him. 
 
 " AVe found many persons in the village who could 
 repeat some of his lines, and none who were not ac- 
 quainted with his ' Farewell to Dean Bourn,' which 
 they said he uttered as he crossed the brook, upon 
 being ejected by Cromwell from the vicarage to which 
 he had been presented by Charles the First. But 
 they added, with an air of innocent triumph, ' he did 
 see it again,' as was the fact after the Restoration. 
 And, indeed, though he calls Devonshire 'dull,' 
 yet as he admits at the same time that he never 
 invented such ennobled numbers for the press as in 
 that 'loathed spot,' the good people of Dean Prior 
 have not much reason to be dissatisfied. 
 
 " The person, however, who knows more of Her- 
 rick than all the rest of the neighbourhood, we found 
 to be a poor woman in the 99th year of her age, 
 named Dorothy King. She repeated to us, with great 
 exactness, five of his ' Xoble Numbers,' among which 
 was the beautiful Litany. These she had learned 
 from her mother, who was apprenticed to Herrick's 
 successor at the vicarage. She called them her 
 prayers, which, she said, she was in the habit of 
 
 [' "Notes and Queries," 1st Series, x. 27.]
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE, xxiii 
 
 putting up in bed, 'whenever she could not sleep ; 
 and she therefore began the Litany at the second 
 stanza: — 
 
 When I lie within my bed, &c. 
 
 Another of her midnight orisons was the poem be- 
 ginning 
 
 Every night thou dost me fright, 
 And keep mine ej^es from sleeping, &c. 
 
 She had no idea that these poems had been printed, 
 and could not have read them if she had seen them. 
 She is in possession of few traditions as to the person, 
 manners, and habits of life of the poet ; but in return, 
 she has a whole budget of anecdotes respecting his 
 ghost ; and these she details with a careless but 
 serene gravity, which one would not willingly dis- 
 compose by any hints at a remote possibility of their 
 not being exactly true. Herrick, she says, was a 
 bachelor, and kept a maidservant,^ as his poems in- 
 deed discover, but she adds, which they do not dis- 
 cover, that he also kept a pet pig, which he taught to 
 drink out of a tankard. And this important circum- 
 stance, together with a tradition that he one day 
 threw his sermon at the congregation, with a curse 
 for their inattention, forms almost the sum total of 
 what we could collect of the poet's life. After his 
 death, indeed, he furnished more ample materials for 
 biography, and we could fill a volume with the fear- 
 ful achievements of his wandering spirit ; 
 
 But this eternal blazon must not be 
 To ears of flesh and blood. 
 
 These traditionary tales of two centuries old, serve 
 to show the respect in which a literary man is held 
 even by the vulgar and uneducated." 
 
 ' Prudence Baldwin, whose memory is enshrined in his 
 verses, and who we may presume from her faithful services 
 was deserving of the poet's esteem.
 
 xxiv BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 Herrick was succeeded in the Vicarage of Dean 
 Prior by John Syms,' who held the incumbency from 
 1648 to 1660, soon after which it was restored to the 
 author of the " Hesperides," who [continued to enjoy 
 the living till his decease, at the ripe age of eighty- 
 three, in the October of 1674. The precise date of 
 his death cannot be fixed ; but in the church-register 
 of Dean Prior is still preserved the following entry : 
 "Robert Herrick, vicker, was burled y*^ 15"* day 
 October, 1674."^ It is very uncertain where the 
 poet was buried, but he is supposed to lie either in 
 the chancel, near the tomb of Sir John Giles, or in 
 the churchyard. A search for his will was under- 
 taken several years ago, but without success, in the 
 archives of the registry at Exeter.] 
 
 In 1857 a costly monument was erected to his me- 
 mory in Dean Prior Church by the poet's kinsman and 
 present head of his family, William Perry- Herrick, 
 Esq., of Beau Manor Park, Leicestershire. It is cut 
 out of a solid block of Caen stone, and adorned with 
 a rich carving of fruit and foliage. The inscription 
 is on a brass plate, and runs as follows : — 
 
 In this chukchtard lie the eemains of 
 ROBERT HERRICK 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE HESPERIDES & OTHER POEMS 
 
 of an ancient familt 
 in leicestershire and 
 born in the tear 1591 
 he was educated at st. 
 John's coll. and tri- 
 nity HALL CAMBRIDGE 
 
 PRESENTED TO THIS LIV- 
 ING BY KING CHARLES I. 
 IN THE YEAR 1629 EJECT- 
 ED DURING THE COMMON- 
 WEALTH & REINSTATED 
 SOON AFTER Y^ RESTORA- 
 TION 
 
 ' Introduct. to Edit. 1823, xiv., where Drake's '' Literary 
 Hours" (Nos. 42-3-4) are quoted as the authority.] 
 [2 "Notes and Queries," 1st Ser. i. 291.]
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xxv 
 
 HE DIED VICAR OP THIS PABISH IN THE TEAR 1674 
 
 EMS) (Saeaffifr. aaiias ©KffitffjrffiiB 
 
 TO UI3 MEMORY BT HIS KINSMAN WILLIAM PERRY- 
 
 HEERICK, OP BEAU MANOR PARK 
 
 LEICESTERSHIRE A.D. 1857. 
 
 VIRTUS OMNIA NOBILITAT. 
 
 OVR MORTALL PARTS MAY WRAPT IN SEARE CLOTHS LYE 
 THEIR SPIRITS NEVER WITH THEIR BODIES DIE 
 
 HESPERIDES 
 
 As a loyalist and sufferer in the cause, there can 
 be no doubt that Herrick was popular with the Ca- 
 valier party, and that his poems were received with 
 the favour they deserved by his contemporaries, for 
 that they were popular must be inferred from the 
 number of them which were set to music by Henry 
 Lawes, Laniere, Wilson, and Ramsay ; it is some- 
 what difficult to account for the seeming neglect 
 which they experienced in after times. He is very 
 briefly noticed by the earlier writers on English 
 poetry ; the short notices of Phillips, Winstanley, 
 and Anthony a Wood, manifest that they were very 
 slightly acquainted with his works, and the first of 
 these unjustly represents him as inspired by no god- 
 dess but his maid Prue, but he quaintly adds, " A 
 pretty flowry and pastoral gale of fancy, a vernal 
 prospect of some hill, cave, rock, or fountain, but for 
 the interruption of other trivial passages, might have 
 made up none of the worst poetic landscapes." 
 
 Wood speaks more favourably of his poetry ; but 
 Granger, in his "Biographical History," after re- 
 echoing Phillips, says flippantly enough, that " Prue 
 was but indifferently qualified to be a tenth muse." 
 
 About the year 1796, Mr. Nichols, in his diligent 
 researches after the worthies of Leicestershire, was 
 naturally led to the examination of Herrick's poetry,
 
 xxvi BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 and gave some notices in the " Gentleman's Maga- 
 zine,*' for 1796 and 1797, which were the first attempts 
 to awaken attention to its merits in recent times. The 
 first edition of Mr. George Ellis's " Specimens of the 
 Early English Poets" omits any notice of him ; but in 
 the second edition, four extracts are given, not all of 
 them the best that might have been adduced. 
 
 In 1798, Dr. Drake, in his " Literary Hours," pub- 
 lished three papers on the Life, Writings, and Genius 
 of Robert Herrick, in which numerous specimens of 
 his poetry were given, with such particulars of his 
 life as he could collect, and an accurate and dispas- 
 sionate critique upon Its merits. 
 
 [It has been already stated that in] 1810, Dr. 
 Nott, a physician of Bristol, published a small 
 volume containing Selections from the "Hesperides," 
 but as he had been anticipated by Dr. Drake in his 
 notices of the poet, his preface is very brief; he 
 however added a few notes to the poems, which 
 are principally illustrative, with an occasional critical 
 remark, briefly calling the attention of the reader to 
 their merits, and pointing out the classical imitations. 
 
 [Nott's] publication was noticed in the article In 
 the "Quarterly Review" for August, 1810, [by Mr. 
 Barron Field, and there is a certain share of proba- 
 bility that this paper may have] tended to make the 
 poet's merits and defects more generally known. 
 
 [At length, In 1823, Mr. Thomas Maitland (better 
 known perhaps as Lord Dundrennan) published the 
 " Hesperides" and "Noble Numbers" entire with] a 
 judicious preface, wherein the editor justly observes, 
 that " Selections from the writings of an author are 
 not popular. Readers, and above all, readers of 
 poetry, are fond of exercising their own judgment in 
 selecting, upon which they naturally place greater 
 reliance than upon that of any editor whatever. In 
 this view, it has been thought advisable to republish 
 the whole of the 'Hesperides,' although the work
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE, xxvii 
 
 certainly contains much that might have been omitted 
 without injury to the fame of the author, and pro- 
 bably without diminishing the pleasure of the gene- 
 rality of his readers. At the same time, it has never 
 been considered necessary with a view to publica- 
 tion to exclude ' The Miller,' ' The Reve,' or ' The 
 "Wife of Bath,' with her facetious prologue, from the 
 ' Canterbury Pilgrimage ;' or to prune the exuberance 
 of Shakespeare, Beaumont and Fletcher, or Dryden, 
 — in all of whose writings as much impurity is to be 
 found as in the ' Hesperides.' There is no good reason 
 why Herrick should be differently dealt with, more 
 especially as his poetry is generally illustrative of 
 the taste and manners of the times. These must 
 ever be subjects of interest, and the ' Hesperides' is 
 therefore now given precisely as it was presented by 
 the author to the public in 1648." 
 
 " It appears to us," says a writer already cited, 
 " that Herrick trifled in this way solely in compli- 
 ment to the taste of the age ; and that whenever he 
 wrote to please himself he wrote from the heart to 
 the heart." 
 
 His " Xight-piece," his " Corinna going a Maying," 
 his '* Gather ye rose buds while ye may," and his "Mad 
 Maid's Song," are not greater proofs of his taste and 
 feeling than of his genius. Such real poetry as is 
 to be found in his " When he would have his Verses 
 read," " No Bashfulness-in^Begging^T^" Upon his de- 
 parture hence," " HiTwish to Privac^'^ " His Alms," 
 " His Winding Sireet7' aarJ-tbrr'^^lpitaph on a Child," 
 
 But born and like a short delight, 
 
 " His Thanksgiving to God for his House," and " His 
 Litany," are "Noble Numbers" indeed. 
 
 Herrick possessed a vigour of fancy, a warmth of 
 feeling, a soundness of sense, and an ease of versifi- 
 cation sufficient to rank him very high in the scale of 
 English minor poets ; and we are quite convinced
 
 xxviii BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 that when the list of these is made out in future his 
 name will not be forgotten," 
 
 " Herrick," says Mr. Campbell, " were we to fix 
 our eyes on a small portion of his works, might be 
 pronounced a writer of delightful Anacreontic spirit. 
 He has passages where the thought seems to dance 
 into numbers from his very heart, and where he 
 frolics like a being made up of melody and pleasure, 
 as where he sings, 
 
 Gather ye rose buds while ye may, &c. 
 
 In the same spirit are his verses ' To Anthea,' con- 
 cluding, — 
 
 Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 
 
 The ver}^ eyes of me ; 
 And hast command of every part, 
 
 To live and die for thee. 
 
 But his beauties are deeply involved in surrounding 
 coarseness and extravagance. What is divine has 
 much of poetry, that which is human has the frailty 
 of flesh." 
 
 But his most enthusiastic admirer and warmest 
 panegyrist, is a writer in the "Retrospective Review," 
 published in August, 1823,^ and who gave, in that 
 miscellany, selections from the "Hesperides" which 
 abundantly justify the following eulogium : 
 
 " While the phlegmatic grace and pedantry of 
 
 Waller, and the grace without pedantry of Carew, 
 
 have been the subjects of general observation, the 
 
 varied modulation and exquisite harmony of Her- 
 
 rick's muse have been totally ne^ected.' He wTio 
 
 ~^ I excels botli, not only in structure of his verse, but 
 
 j in the more essential requisites of poetry, is less 
 
 \ known than either. But forgetting the impurities of 
 
 our author, and estimating the chaster etTusions of 
 
 ' Vol. V. p. 156.
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. xxix 
 
 r . 1 
 
 ' his felicitous genius, we do not hesitate to pronounce I 
 
 him THE VERT BEST OF ENGLISH LyRIC PoETS. He 
 
 is the most joyous and gladsome of bards, singing like 
 the grasshopper, as if he would never grow old. He 
 is as fresh as the spring, as blithe as the summer, and 
 as ripe as the autumn. We know of no English poet 
 who is so ubandonne, as the French term it, who so 
 whollyglvesJaimsel£-iip lo_his_present feelings^jrehais — ■ 
 so much heart and soul in what he writes, aiidth]s„noL-. 
 on one'subjTct^iny,' T)utl)h 'alFsubjects_aiike.._ The 
 spu-It of song dances in TiTs" vein's, "and flutters_ar(iund 
 his lips — now bursting into the joyfuTand hea,rt^jvoice 
 el4he^picurean ; soinelimes breathing forth stj-ains 
 soTT asTEe'sTgiror' buri^ Tove,' aiuTsometimes utter- 
 ing feelings of the most delicate pensiveness. It is 
 that delicate pathos, which is at the same time natu- 
 ral and almost playful, which most charms us in the 
 writings of Herrick. As for his versification, it pre- 
 sents one of the most varied specimens of rhythmical 
 L harmony in the language, flowing with an almost 
 wonderful grace and flexibility^' | 
 "^ The saiuF writer obs6i-ve"S7t5at*"'llerrick had so 
 very high a notion of the value of his compositions, 
 that he conceived it necessary only to mention his 
 friends in this volume in order to confer immortality 
 upon them. He constituted himself high priest of the 
 temple of fame, and assumed the power of apotheo- 
 sizing such writers as he conceived deserving of 
 that honour, never once dreaming of the possibility 
 of both himself and his works being neglected or for- 
 • gotten. ]\Iany addresses to his friends and relations, 
 avowing his potency in this high vocation, are scat- 
 tered through his works. Some of them, however, 
 have juster titles to immortality than the lay of the 
 poet can confer — such as Sclden and Ben Jonson, &c." 
 navins indicated to the reader, and in some cases 
 adduced the testimony to the claim our poet has 
 to his attention, he can well dispense with any fur-
 
 XXX BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE. 
 
 ther observations on our part, and we cannot do 
 better than to take our leave of him and the poet in 
 the words of his most ardent admirer. 
 
 " And now farewell, young Herrick ! for young is 
 the spirit of thy poetry, as thy wisdom is old : mayest 
 thou flourish in immortal youth, thou boon compa- 
 nion and most jocund songster! May thy purest 
 poems be piped from hill to hill, throughout Eng- 
 land ; and thy spirit, tinged with superstitious lore, 
 be gladdened by the music ! May the flowers breathe 
 incense to thy fame, for thou hast not left one of 
 them unsung ! May the silvery springs and circum- 
 ambient air murmur thy praises, as thou hast warbled 
 theirs ! And may those who live well, sing, and those 
 who love well, sigh sweet panegyrics to thy memory! 
 Ours shall not be wanting, for we have read thee 
 much, and like thee much." 
 
 Thou shalt not all die ; for while Love's fire shines 
 Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines. 
 
 S. W. S[inger]. 
 MiCKLEHAM, Feb. 1846.
 
 HESPERIDES: 
 
 . OR, 
 
 THE WORKS 
 
 BOTH 
 
 HUMANE & DIVINE 
 
 OF 
 
 Robert Herrick Efq. 
 
 Ovid. 
 Effugient avidos Car?nina noftra Rogos. 
 
 L O ND ON. 
 
 Printed for John Williams., and Francis Eglesfield^ 
 
 and are to be fold at the Crown and Marygold 
 
 in Saint Pauls Church-yard. 1648.
 
 T^ ^^7• •^m^ '^V ' 
 
 TO THE MOST 
 
 ILLVSTRIOVS, 
 
 AND 
 Moft Hopefull Prince, 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 Prince of Wales. 
 
 'E\\ may my Book come forth like 
 Publique Day, 
 When fuch a Light as Tou are leads 
 
 the way : 
 Who are my Works Creator, and 
 alone 
 The Flame of it, and the Expanjion. 
 And look how all thofe heavenly Lamps acquire 
 Light from the Sun, that inexhaiifted Fire : 
 So all my Morne and Evening Stars from You 
 Have their Exijlence, and their Jnjluence too. 
 Full is my Book of Glories ; but all Thefe 
 By You become Jmmortall Subjlances.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK. 
 
 SING of brooks, of blossomes, birds, 
 and bowers : 
 
 Of April, May, of June, and July- 
 flowers. 
 
 I sing of may-poles, hock-carts, was- 
 sails, wakes. 
 Of bride-grooms, brides, and of their bridall-cakes. 
 I write of youth, of love, and have accesse 
 By these, to sing of cleanly-wantonnesse. 
 I sing of dewes, of raines, and piece by piece 
 Of balme, of oyle, of spice, and amber-greece. 
 I sing of times trans-shifting ; and I write 
 How roses first came red, and lillies white. 
 I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing 
 The court of Mab, and of the fairie-king. 
 I write of hell ; I sing, and ever shall. 
 Of heaven, and hope to have it after all. 
 
 To iiis Muse. 
 
 WHITHER, mad maiden, wilt thou roame ? 
 Farre safer 'twere to stay at home ; 
 Where thou mayst sit, and piping please 
 The poore and private cottages.
 
 2 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Since coats and hamlets best agree 
 
 With this thy meaner niinstralsie. 
 
 There with the reed, thou mayst expresse 
 
 The shepherds fleecie happinesse : 
 
 And with thy eclogues intermixe 
 
 Some smooth and harmlesse beucolicks. 
 
 There on a hillock thou mayst sing 
 
 Unto a handsome shephardling ; 
 
 Or to a girle (that keeps the neat) 
 
 With breath more sweet then violet. 
 
 There, there, perhaps, such lines as these 
 
 May take the simple villages. 
 
 But for the court, the country wit 
 
 Is despicable unto it. 
 
 Stay then at home, and doe not goe 
 
 Or flie abroad to seeke for woe. 
 
 Contempts in courts and cities dwell ; 
 
 No critick haunts the poore mans cell : 
 
 Whei-e thou mayst hear thine own lines read 
 
 By no one tongue, there, censured. 
 
 That man's unwise will search for ill, 
 
 Artd may prevent it, sitting still. 
 
 To HTS BOOKE. 
 
 "\ "Jl /"IIILE thou didst keep thy candor undefil'd, 
 
 * ^ Deerely I lov'd thee, as my first-borne child 
 But when I saw thee wantonly to roame 
 From house to house, and never stay at home ; 
 I brake my bonds of love, and bad thee goe, 
 Regardlesse whether well thou sped'st, or no. 
 On with thy fortunes then, what e're they be ; 
 If good rie smile, if bad I'le sigh for thee. 
 
 Anothee. 
 
 TO read my booke the virgin shie 
 May blush, while Brutus standeth by : 
 But when he's gone, read through what's writ. 
 And never staine a cheeke for it.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Anothek. 
 
 WHO with thy leaves shall wipe, at need, 
 The place, where swelling piles do breed : 
 May every ill, that bites, or smarts, 
 Perplexe him in his hinder-parts. 
 
 To THE SOURE ReABER. 
 
 T F thou dislik'st the piece thou light' st on first ; 
 -*- Thinke that of all, that I have writ, the worst : 
 But if thou read'st my booke unto the end. 
 And still do'st this, and that verse, reprehend : 
 O perverse man ! If all disgustfull be. 
 The extreame scabbe take thee, and thine, for me. 
 
 To HIS BoOKE. 
 
 COME thou not neere those men, who are like 
 bread 
 O're-leven'd ; or like cheese o're-renetted. 
 
 When he would have his Verses read. 
 
 IN sober mornings, doe not thou reherse ♦ 
 The holy incantation of a verse ; 
 But when that men have both well drunke, and fed, 
 Let my enchantments then be sung, or read. 
 When laurell spirts i'th' fire, and when the hearth 
 Smiles to it selfe, and guilds the roofe with mirth ; 
 When up the thyrse* is rais'd, and when the sound 
 Of sacred orgiesf Hyes, A round, a round. 
 When the rose raignes, and locks with ointments 
 
 shine. 
 Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine. 
 
 A javelin twind with ivy. f Son^s to Bacchus.
 
 \y 
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Julia's Recovery. 
 
 DROOP, droop no more, or hang the head, 
 Ye roses almost withered ; 
 Now strength, and newer purple get. 
 Each here declining violet. 
 O primroses ! let this day be 
 A resurrection unto ye ; 
 And to all flowers ally'd in blood, 
 Or sworn to that sweet sister-hood : 
 For health on Julia's cheek hath shed 
 Clarret, and creame commingled. 
 And those her lips doe now appeare 
 As beames of corrall, but more cleare. 
 
 L^ 
 
 To Silvia to wed. 
 
 ET us (though late) at last (my Silvia) wed ; 
 'And loving lie in one devoted bed. 
 Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly poste haste ; 
 No sound calls back the yeere that once is past. 
 Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay ; 
 True love, we know, precipitates delay. 
 Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove ; 
 ly No man at one time, can be wise, and love. 
 
 The Parliament of Roses to Julia. 
 
 IDREAIVIT the roses one time went 
 To meet and sit in parliament : 
 The place for these, and for the rest 
 Of flowers, was thy spotlesse breast : 
 Over the which a state was drawue 
 Of TiSanie, or cob-web lawne ; 
 Then in that parly, all those powers 
 Voted the rose, the queen of flowers. 
 But so, as that her self should be 
 The maide of honour unto thee.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 No Bashjfulnesse in Begging. 
 
 'T'O get thine ends, lay basbfulnesse aside ; 
 -»- ^Vhofeares to aske, doth teach to.be denyd. 
 
 The Frozen Heart. 
 
 T FREEZE, I freeze, and nothing dwels 
 -*- In me but snow, and ysicles. 
 For pitties sake, give your advice, 
 To melt this snow, and thaw this ice ; 
 I'le drink down flames, but if so be 
 Nothing but love can supple me ; 
 rie rather keepe this frost, and snow. 
 Then to be thaw'd, or heated so. 
 
 To Perilla. 
 
 A H, my Perilla ! do'st thou grieve to see 
 -^^^ Me, day by day, to steale away from thee ? 
 Age cals me hence, and my gray haires bid come. 
 And haste away to mine eternal home ; 
 'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this, 
 That I must give thee the supremest kisse : 
 Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring 
 Part of the creame from that religious sprint ; 
 With which, Perilla, wash my hands and fee° ; 
 That done, then wind me In that very sheet 
 Which wrapt thy smooth limbs (when thou didst 
 
 implore 
 The gods protection, but the night before) ; 
 Follow me weeping to my turfe, and there 
 Let fall a primrose, and with it a teare : 
 Then lastly, let some weekly-strewin<'s be 
 Devoted to the memory of me : 
 Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep 
 Still In the coole and silent shades of sleep.
 
 u 
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 A Song to the Maskers. 
 
 1 /^^OME down, and dance ye in the toyle 
 ^' — Of pleasures, to a heate ; 
 
 But if to moisture, let the ojle 
 Of roses be your sweat. 
 
 2 Not only to your selves assume 
 
 These sweets, but let them fly ; 
 From this to that, and so perfume 
 E'ne all the standers by. 
 
 3 As goddesse Isis, when she went, 
 
 Or glided through the street. 
 Made all that touch't her, with her scent. 
 And whom she touch't, turne sweet. 
 
 To Perenna. 
 
 WHEN I thy parts runne o're, I can't espie 
 In any one, the least indecencie : 
 But every line and limb diffused thence, 
 A faire and unfemiliar excellence : 
 So that the more I look, the more I prove, 
 Ther's still more cause, why I the more should love. 
 
 Treason. 
 
 THE seeds of treason choake up as they spring : 
 He acts the crime, that gives it cherishing. 
 
 T 
 
 Two Things odious. 
 
 VVO of a thousand things, are disallow'd, 
 A lying rich man, and a poore man proud.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To HIS Mistresses. 
 
 T T ELPE me ! lieipe me ! now I call ^~" 
 
 -^ -*• To my pretty witchci'afts all : 
 
 Old I am, and cannot do 
 
 That, I was accustom'd to. 
 
 Bring your magicks, spels, and charmes, 
 
 To entlesh my thighs, and amies : 
 
 Is there no way to beget 
 
 In my limbs their former heat ? 
 
 ^son had, as poets faine. 
 
 Baths that made him young againe : 
 
 Find that medicine, if you can, 
 
 For your drie-deerepid man : 
 
 Who would faine his strength renew. 
 
 Were it but to pleasure you. 
 
 The wounded Heart. 
 
 COME bring your sampler, and with art. 
 Draw in't a wounded heart ; 
 And dropping here, and there : 
 Not that I thinke, that any dart, 
 Can make yours bleed a teare : 
 Or peirce it any where ; 
 Yet doe it to this end : that I, 
 May by 
 This secret see, 
 Though you can make 
 That heart to bleed, your's ne'r will ake 
 For me. 
 
 No LOATHSOMNESSE IN LoVE. 
 
 WHAT I fancy, I approve, 
 No dislike there is in love: 
 Be my mistresse short or tall, 
 And distorted there- vvithall : 
 
 L^
 
 8 HESPERIBES. 
 
 Be she likewise one of those, 
 
 That an acre hath of nose : 
 
 Be her forehead, and her eyes 
 
 Full of incongruities : 
 
 Be her cheeks so shallow too, 
 
 As to shew her tonijue wajj through : 
 
 Be her lips ill hung, or set, 
 
 And her grinders black as jet ; 
 
 Ha's she thinne haire, hath she none. 
 
 She's to me a paragon. 
 
 To Anthea. 
 
 T F, deare Anthea, my hard fate it be 
 ^-^ -*- To live some few-sad-howers after thee : 
 
 Thy sacred corse with odours I will burne ; 
 And with my lawrell crown thy golden vrne. 
 Then holding up, there, such religious things, 
 As were, time past, thy holy filitings : 
 Nere to thy reverend pitcher I will fall 
 Down dead for grief, and end my woes withall : 
 So three in one small plat of ground shall ly, 
 Anthea, Herrick, and his poetry. 
 
 r The Weeping Cherry. 
 
 { T SAW a cherry weep, and why ? 
 
 -»- Why wept it ? but for shame. 
 Because my Julia's lip was by. 
 
 And did out-red the same. 
 But, pretty fondling, let not fall 
 
 A teare at all for that : 
 
 Which rubies, corralls, scarlets, all 
 
 For tincture, wonder at. 
 
 T 
 
 Soft Musick. 
 
 HE mellow touch of musick most doth wound 
 The soule, when it doth rather sigh, then sound.
 
 HESPEIIIDES. 
 
 The Difference betwixt Kings and Subiects. 
 
 TWIXT kings and subjects tlier's this mighty 
 odds, 
 Subjects are taught by men ; kings by the Gods. 
 
 His Answer to a Question. 
 
 SOME would know 
 Why I so 
 Long still doe tarry, 
 
 And ask why 
 
 Here that I 
 Live, and not marry ? 
 
 Thus I those 
 
 Doe oppose ; 
 What man would be here, 
 
 Slave to thrall. 
 
 If at all 
 He could live free here ? 
 
 Upon Julia's Fall. 
 
 JULIA was carelesse, and withall, 
 She rather took, then got a fall : 
 The wanton ambler chanc'd to see 
 Part of her legss sinceritie : 
 And ravish'd thus, it came to passe. 
 The nagge, like to the prophets asse, 
 Began to speak, and would have been 
 A telling what rare sights h'ad seen : 
 And had told all ; but did refraine. 
 Because his tongue was ty'd againe. 
 
 Expences Exhaust. 
 
 LIVE with a thrifty, not a needy fiite ; 
 Small shots paid often, ivaste a vast estate.
 
 10 HESPERIDES. 
 
 L 
 
 Love what it is. 
 
 OVE is a circle that doth restlesse move 
 In the same sweet eternity of love. 
 
 Presence aud Absence. 
 
 "^^THEN what is lov'd is present, love doth 
 
 * V spring ; 
 
 But being absent, love lies languishing. 
 
 No Spouse but a Sister. 
 
 ABACHELOUR I will 
 Live as I have liv'd still, 
 And never take a wife 
 To crucifie my life : 
 But this rie tell ye too, 
 What now I meane to doe ; 
 A sister, in the stead 
 Of wife, about Tie lead ; 
 Which I will keep embrac'd, 
 And kisse, but yet be chaste. 
 
 The Pomander Bracelet. 
 
 TO me my Julia lately sent 
 A bracelet richly redolent : 
 The beads I kist, but most lov'd her 
 That did perfume the pomander. 
 
 The Shooe-tting. 
 
 ANTHEA bade me tye her shooe ; 
 I did ; and kist the instep too : 
 And would have kist unto her knee, 
 Had not her blush rebuked me.
 
 w 
 
 EESPERIDES. 11 
 
 The Carka5jet. 
 
 TNSTEAD of orient pearls of jet, 
 -*- I sent ray love a carkauet : 
 About her spotlesse neck she knit 
 The lace, to honour me, or it : 
 Then think how wrapt was I to see 
 My jet t'enthrall such ivorie. 
 
 His sailing from Julia. 
 HEN that day comes, whose evening sayes Tin 
 
 Unto that watrie desolation : 
 Devoutly to thy closet-gods then praj'. 
 That my wing'd ship may meet no llemora. 
 Those deities which circum-walk the seas, 
 And look upon our dreadfull passages, 
 Will from all dangers re-deliver me, 
 For one drink-offering poured out by thee. 
 Mercie and truth live with thee ! and forbeare 
 In my short absence, to unsluce a teare : 
 But yet for loves-sake, let thy lips doe this. 
 Give my dead picture one engendring kisse : 
 Work that to life, and let me ever dwell 
 In thy remembrance, Julia. So farewell. 
 
 How THE Wall-flower came first, and 
 
 WHY so CALLED. 
 
 WHY this flower is now call'd so. 
 List, sweet maids, and you shal know. 
 Understand, this first-ling was 
 Once a brisk and bonny lasse, 
 Kept as close as Danae was : 
 Who a spriglitly springall lov'd, 
 And to have it fully prov'd,
 
 u 
 
 12 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Up she got upon a wall, 
 Tempting down to slide witball : 
 But the silken twist unty'd, 
 So she fell, and bruis'd, she dy'd. 
 Love, in pitty of the deed, 
 And her loving-lucklesse speed, 
 Turn'd her to this plant, we call 
 Now, The Flower of the Wall. 
 
 Why Flowers change Colour. 
 
 THESE fresh beauties, we can prove, 
 Once were virgins sick of love, 
 Turn'd to flowers. Still in some 
 Colours goe, and colours come. 
 
 to his mlstresse objecting to him neither 
 Toting or Talking. 
 
 YOU say I love not, 'cause I doe not play 
 Still with your curies, and kisse the time away. 
 You blame me too, because I cann't devise 
 Some sport, to please those babies in your eyes : 
 By loves religion, I must here confesse it, 
 The most I love, when I the least expresse it. 
 Small grief s find tongues : full casques are ever found 
 To give, if any, yet but little sound. 
 Deep waters noyse-lesse are ; and this we know, 
 That chiding streams hetray small depth below. 
 So when love speechlesse is she doth expresse 
 A depth in love, and that depth, bottomlesse. 
 Now since my love is tongue-lesse, know me such. 
 Who speak but little, 'cause I love so much. 
 
 Upon the Losse of his Mistresses. 
 
 I HAVE lost, and lately, these 
 Many dainty mistresses : 
 Stately Julia, prime of all ; 
 Sapho next, a principall ;
 
 HESPERIDES. 13 
 
 Smooth Anthea, for a skin 
 
 White, and heaven-like chrystalliue : 
 
 Sweet Electra, and the choice 
 
 Mjrha, for the kite, and voice. 
 
 Next, Corinna, for her wit, 
 
 And the graceful use of it : 
 
 With Perilla : all are gone ; 
 
 Onely Herrick's left alone, 
 
 For to number sorrow by 
 
 Their departures hence, and die. 
 
 The Dream. 
 
 A /r E thought, last night. Love in an anger came, 
 -'-'^J- And brought a rod, so whipt me with the same : 
 Mirtle the twigs were, meerly to imply ; 
 Love strikes, but 'tis with gentle crueltie. 
 Patient I was : Love pitifull grew then, 
 And stroak'd the stripes, and I was whole agen. 
 Thus like a bee, Love-gentle stil doth bring 
 Hony to salve, where he before did sting. 
 
 ' The Vine. 
 
 IDREAM'D this mortal part of mine 
 Was metamorphoz'd to a vine ; 
 Which crawling one and every way, 
 Enthrall'd my dainty Lucia. 
 Me thought, her long small legs and thighs 
 I with my tendrils did surprize ; 
 Her belly, buttocks, and her waste 
 By my soft nerv'lits were embrac'd : 
 About her head I writhin<j hung, 
 And with rich clusters (hid among 
 The leaves) her temples I behung : 
 So that my Lucia seem'd to me 
 Young Bacchus ravisht by his tree. 
 ISIy curies about her neck did craule, 
 And armes and hands they did enthrall ; 
 
 )
 
 14 HESPERIDES. 
 
 So that she could not freely stir, 
 (All parts there made one prisoner). 
 But when I crept with leaves to hide 
 Those parts, which maids keep unespy'd, 
 Such fleeting pleasures there I took, 
 That with the fancie I awook ; 
 And found (ah me !) this flesh of mine 
 More like a stock, then like a vine. 
 
 To Love. 
 
 I'M free from thee ; and thou no more shalt heare 
 My puling pipe to beat against thine eare : 
 Farewell my shackles, (though of pearle they be) 
 Such precious thraldome ne'r shall fetter me. 
 He loves his bonds, who, when the first are broke, 
 Submits his neck unto a second yoke. 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 YOUNG I was, but now am old. 
 But I am not yet grown cold ; 
 I can play, and I can twine 
 'Bout a virgin like a vine : 
 In her lap too I can lye 
 Melting, and in fancie die : 
 And return to life, if she 
 Claps my cheek, or kisseth me ; 
 Thus, and thus it now appears 
 That our love out-lasts our yeeres. 
 
 t 
 
 Love's Plat at Push-pin. 
 
 LOVE and my selfe (beleeve me) on a day 
 At childish push-pin (for our sport) did play : 
 I put, he pusht, and heedless of my skin. 
 Love prickt my finger with a golden pin :
 
 HESPERIDES. 15 
 
 Since whicli, it festers so, that I can prove 
 'Twas but a trick to poyson me with love : 
 Little the wound was ; greater was the smart ; 
 The finger bled, but burnt was all my heart. 
 
 The Rosarie. 
 
 ONE ask'd me where the roses grew ? 
 I bade him not goe seek ; 
 But forthwith bade my Julia shew 
 A bud in either cheek. 
 
 Upon Cupid. 
 
 OLD wives have often told, how they 
 Saw Cupid bitten by a flea : 
 And thereupon, in tears half drown' d, 
 He cry'd aloud. Help, help the wound : 
 He wept, he sobb'd, he call'd to some 
 To brinif him lint, and balsamum, 
 To make a tent, and put it in, 
 Where the steletto pierc'd the skin : 
 Which being done, the fretfull paine 
 Asswag'd, and he was well again. 
 
 The Parc^, or, Three dainty Destinies. 
 THE Armilet. 
 
 THREE lovely Sisters working were 
 (As they were closely set) 
 Of soft and dainty maiden-haire, 
 
 A curious armelet. 
 I smiling, ask'd them what they did ? 
 
 (Faire Destinies all three) 
 Who told me, they had drawn a thred 
 Of life, and 'twas for me.
 
 16 HESPERIDES. 
 
 They shew'd me then, how fine 'twas spun ; 
 
 And I reply'd thereto, 
 I care not now how soone 'tis done, 
 -^ Or cut, if cut by you. 
 
 SOKBOWES SUCCEED. 
 
 WHEN" one is past, another care we have, 
 Thus ivoe succeeds a woe ; as wave a wave. 
 
 Cherry-pit. 
 
 JULIA and I did lately sit 
 Playing for sport, at cherry-pit : 
 She threw ; I cast ; and having thrown, 
 I got the pit, and she the stone. 
 
 To EoBiN Red-brest. 
 
 LAID out for dead, let thy last kindnesse be 
 With leaves and mosse-work for to cover me 
 And while the wood-nimphs my cold corps inter, 
 Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister ! 
 For epitaph, in foliage, next write this, 
 Here, here the tomb of Robin Herrick is. 
 
 Discontents in Devon. 
 
 MORE discontents I never had 
 Since I was born, then here ; 
 Where I have been, and still am sad, 
 
 In this dull Devon-shire : 
 Yet justly too I must confesse ; 
 
 I ne'r invented such 
 Ennobled numbers for the presse. 
 Then where I loath'd so much.
 
 HESPERIDES. 17 
 
 To HIS Paternall Countbey. 
 
 O EARTH ! earth ! earth ! heare thou my voice, 
 and be 
 Lovinof, and <;entle for to cover me : 
 Banish'd from thee I live ; ne'r to return, 
 Unlesse thou giv'st my small remains an urne. 
 
 Chereie-ripe. 
 
 CHERRIE-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry, '^ 
 
 Full and faire ones ; come, and buy : 
 If so be, you ask me where 
 They doe grow ? I answer, There, 
 Where my Jidia's lips doe smile ; 
 There's the land, or Cherry-ile : 
 Whose plantations fully show 
 All the yeere, where cherries grow. 
 
 To HIS Mistresses. 
 
 PUT on your silks ; and piece by piece 
 Give them the scent of amber-greece : 
 And for your breaths too, let them smell 
 Ambrosia-like, or nectarell : 
 While other gums their sweets perspire, 
 By your owne jewels set on fire. 
 
 To Anthea. 
 
 NOW is the time, when all the lights wax dim ; 
 And thou, Anthea, must withdraw from him 
 Who was thy servant. Dearest, bury me 
 Under that holy-oke, or gospel-tree : 
 Where, though thou see'st not, thou may'st think upon 
 Me, when thou yeerly go'st procession : 
 Or for mine honour, lay me in that tombe 
 In which thy sacred reliques shall have roome 
 For my embalming, sweetest, there will be 
 No spices wanting, when I'm laid by thee. 
 
 c
 
 18 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Vision to Electra. 
 
 T DREAM'D we both were in a bed 
 
 -L Of roses, almost smothered : 
 
 The warmth and sweetnes had me there 
 
 Made lovingly familiar ; 
 
 But that I heard thy sweet breath say, 
 
 Faults done by night, will blush by day : 
 
 I kist thee panting, and I call 
 
 Night to the record ! that was all. 
 
 But ah ! if empty dreames so please, 
 
 Love, give me more such nights as these. 
 
 Deeames. 
 
 HERE we are all, by day : by night w' are hurl'd 
 By dreames, each one, into a sev'rall world. 
 
 I 
 
 Ambition. 
 
 N man, ambition is the common'st thing : 
 Each one, by nature, loves to be a king. 
 
 His bequest to Julia. 
 
 JULIA, if I chance to die 
 Ere I print my poetry ; 
 I most humbly thee desire 
 To commit it to the fire : 
 Better 'twere my book were dead. 
 Then to live not perfected. 
 
 Money gets the masterie. 
 
 FIGHT thou with shafts of silver, and o'rcome. 
 When no force else can get the masterdome.
 
 HESPERIDES. 19 
 
 The Scar-fire. ^^ 
 
 WATER, water I desire, 
 Here's a house of flesh on fire : 
 Ope' the fountains and the springs, 
 And come all to buckittings : 
 What ye cannot quench, pull downe ; 
 Spoils a house, to save a towne : 
 Better 'tis that one shu'd fall, 
 Then by one, to hazai'd all. 
 
 Upon Silvia, a Mistbessb. 
 
 WHEN some shall say, Faire once my Silvia was ; 
 Thou wilt complaine, False now's thy looking- 
 glasse : ^ 
 Which renders that quite tarnisht, which was green ; 
 And priceless now, what peerless once had been : 
 Upon thy forme more wrinkles yet will fall, 
 And comming downe, shall make no noise at all. 
 
 Cheebfulnesse in Chabitie : or, 
 the sweet sacrifice. 
 
 TIS not a thousand bullocks thies 
 Can please those heav'nly deities, 
 If the vower don't express 
 In his offering, cheerfulness. 
 
 Once poore, still penurious. 
 
 GOES the world now, it will with thee goe hard : 
 The fattest hogs we grease the more with lard. 
 To him that has, there shall be added more ; 
 Who is penurious, he shall still be poore.
 
 20 HESPERIDES. 
 
 SWEETNESSE IN SACRIFICE. 
 
 "T^IS not greatness they require, 
 
 -L To be ofler'd up by fire : 
 But 'tis sweetness that doth please 
 Those eternall essences. 
 
 Steame in Sacrifice. 
 
 IF meat the gods give, I the steame 
 High-towring wil devote to them : 
 Whose easie natures like it well. 
 If we the roste hava, they the smell. 
 
 Upon Julia's Voice. 
 
 SO smooth, so sweet, so sllv'ry is thy voice, 
 As, could they hear, the damn'd would make no 
 noise ; 
 But listen to thee, walking in thy chamber. 
 Melting melodious words to lutes of amber. 
 
 Againb. 
 
 WHEN I thy singing next shall heare. 
 He wish I might turne all to eare. 
 To drink in notes, and numbers, such 
 As blessed soules cann't heare too much : 
 Then melted down, there let me lye 
 Entranc'd, and lost confusedly : 
 And by thy musique strucken mute, 
 Die, and be turn'd into a lute. 
 
 All things decay and die. 
 
 A LL things decay with time : the forrest sees 
 -^^- The growth, and down-fall of her aged trees ; 
 That timber tall, which three-score lusters stood 
 The proud dictator of the state-like wood :
 
 HESPERIDES. 21 
 
 I meane, the sovei-aigne of all plants, the oke 
 Droops, dies, and falls without the cleavers stroke. 
 
 The Succession of the foure sweet Months. 
 
 THIRST, April, she with mellow showrs 
 -■- Opens the way for early flowers ; 
 Then after her comes smiling May, 
 In a more rich and sweet aray ; 
 Next enters June, and brings us more 
 Jems then those two that went before : 
 Then, lastly, July comes, and she 
 More wealth brings in then all those three. 
 
 No Shipwrack of Vertue. To a Friend. 
 
 nPHOU sail'st with others in this Argus here ; 
 -»- Nor wrack or bidging thou hast cause to feare : 
 But trust to this, my noble passenger ; 
 Who swims with vertue, he shall still be sure 
 Ulysses-like, all tempests to endure ; 
 And 'midst a thousand sulfs to be secure. 
 
 Upon his Sister-in-Law, Mistresse 
 Elizab: Herrick. 
 
 "THIRST, for effusions due unto the dead, 
 ^ My solemne vowes have here accomplished : 
 Next, how I love thee, that my griefe must tell, 
 "V^Tierein thou liv'st for ever. Deare, farewell. 
 
 Or Love. A Sonet. 
 
 TT OW Love came in, I do not know, 
 -*- -*- Whether liy th' eye, or eare, or no ; 
 
 Or whether with the soule it came 
 
 At first, infused with the same ;
 
 22 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Whether in part 'tis here or there, 
 
 Or, like the soule, whole every where : 
 
 This troubles me ; but I as well 
 
 As any other, this can tell ; 
 
 That when from hence she does depart. 
 
 The out-let then is from the heart. 
 
 To Anthea. 
 
 AH my Anthea ! Must my heart still break ? 
 Love makes me ivrite, what shame forbids to 
 speak. 
 Give me a kisse, and to that kisse a score ; 
 Then to that twenty, adde an hundred more : 
 A thousand to that hundred : so kisse on, 
 To make that thousand up a million. 
 Ti'eble that million, and when that is done, 
 Let's kisse afresh, as when we first begun. 
 But yet, though Love likes well such scenes as these 
 There is an act that will more fully please : 
 Kissing and glancing, soothing, all make way 
 But to the acting of this private play : 
 Name it I would ; but being blushing red. 
 The rest He speak, when we meet both in bed. 
 
 The Rock of Rubies : and the Quarrie 
 OF Pearls. 
 
 \,/ OOME ask'd me where the rubies grew? 
 
 ^ And nothing I did say ; 
 'I- But with my linger pointed to 
 
 A>r The lips of Julia. 
 
 Some ask'd how pearls did grow, and where ? 
 
 Then spoke I to my girle, 
 To part her lips, and shew'd them there 
 The quarelets of pearl.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 CONFORMITIE. 
 
 CONFORMITY was ever knowne 
 A foe to dissolution : 
 Nor can we that a ruine call, 
 Whose crack gives crushino; unto all. 
 
 To THE King, upon his comming with his 
 Army into the West. 
 
 WELCOME, most welcome to our vowes and us, 
 Most great, and universall genius ! 
 The drooping west, which hitherto has stood 
 As one, in long-lamented-widow-hood, 
 Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers. 
 Newly refresh't, both by the sun, and showers. 
 War, which before was horrid, now appears 
 Lovely in you, brave prince of cavaliers ! 
 A deale of courage in each bosome springs 
 By your accesse ; O you the best of kings ! 
 Ride on with all white omens ; so, that where 
 Your standard's up, we fix a conquest there. 
 
 Upon Roses. 
 
 \/' 
 
 UNDER a lawne, then skyes more cleare, 
 Some ruffled roses nestling were ; 
 And snugging there, they seem'd to lye 
 As in a flowrie nunnery : 
 
 They blush'd, and look'd more fresh then flowers 
 Quickned of late by pearly showers ; 
 And all, because they were possest 
 But of the heat of Julia's breast : 
 AVhich as a warme, and moistned spring. 
 Gave them their ever flourishing.
 
 24 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE King and Queene, upon their 
 
 UNHAPPY DISTANCES. 
 
 WOE, woe to them, who, by a ball of strife, 
 Doe, and have parted here a man and wife : 
 Charles the best husband, while Maria strives 
 To be, and is, the very best of wives : 
 Like streams, you are divorc'd ; but 't will come, when 
 These eyes of mine shall see you mix agen. 
 Thus speaks the oke, here ; C. and ]\[. shall meet, 
 Treading on amber, with their silver-feet : 
 Nor wil't be long, ere this accomplish'd be ; 
 The words found true, C. M. remember me. 
 
 A. 
 
 Dangers wait on Kings. 
 
 S oft as night is banish'd by the morne. 
 So oft, we'll think, we see a king new born. 
 
 The Cheat of Cupid : or, The ungentle 
 Guest. 
 
 ONE silent night of late. 
 When every creature rested. 
 Came one unto my gate. 
 
 And knocking, me molested. 
 
 Who's that, said T, beats there. 
 And troubles thus the sleepie ? 
 
 Cast off, said he, all feare, 
 
 And let not locks thus keep ye. 
 
 For T a boy am, who 
 
 By moonlesse nights have swerved ; 
 And all with showrs wet through. 
 
 And e'en with cold half starved.
 
 HESPERIDES. 25 
 
 I pittifuU arose, 
 
 And soon a taper lighted ; 
 And did my selfe disclose 
 
 Unto the lad benighted. 
 
 I saw he had a bow, 
 
 And wings too, which did shiver ; 
 And looking down below, 
 
 I spy'd he had a quiver. 
 
 I to my chimney's shine 
 
 Brought him, as love professes, 
 And chaf'd his hands with mine. 
 
 And dry'd his dropping tresses : 
 
 But when he felt him warm'd, 
 
 Let's try this bow of ours. 
 And string, if they be harm'd. 
 
 Said he, with these late showrs. 
 
 Forthwith his bow he bent, 
 
 And wedded string and arrow, 
 And struck me that it went 
 
 Quite through my heart and marrow. 
 
 Then laughing loud, he flew 
 
 Away, and thus said flying, 
 Adieu, mine host, adieu. 
 
 He leave thy heart a dying. 
 
 To THE REVEREND ShADE OF HIS RELIGIOUS 
 
 Father. 
 
 I ""HAT for seven lusters I did never come 
 -■- To doe the rites to thy religious tombe ; 
 That neither haire was cut, or true teares shed 
 By me, o'r thee, asjustments to the dead : 
 Forgive, forgive me ; since I did not know 
 Whether thy bones had here their rest, or no.
 
 26 HESPERIDES. 
 
 But now 'tis known, behold, behold, I bring 
 
 Unto thy ghost th' effused offering : 
 
 And look, what smallage, night-shade, cypresse, yew. 
 
 Unto the shades have been, or now are due. 
 
 Here I devote ; and something more then so ; 
 
 I come to pay a debt of birth I owe. 
 
 Thou gav'st me life, but mortall ; for that one 
 
 Favour, He make full satisfaction ; 
 
 For my life mortall, rise from out thy herse, 
 
 And take a life immortall from my verse. 
 
 Delight in Disorder. 
 
 A SWEET disorder in the dresse 
 Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse : 
 A lawne about the shoulders thrown 
 Into a fine distraction : 
 An erring lace, which here and there 
 Enthralls the crimson stomacher : 
 A cuffe neglectfull, and thereby 
 Ribbands to flow confusedly : 
 A winning wave (deserving note) 
 In the tempestuous petticote : 
 A carelesse shooe-string, in whose tye 
 I see a wilde civility : 
 Doe more bewitch me, then when art 
 Is too pi'ecise in every part. 
 
 To HIS Muse. 
 
 WERE I to give thee baptime, I wo'd chuse 
 To christen thee, the Bride, the BashfuU 
 Muse, 
 Or Muse of Roses : since that name does fit 
 Best with those virgin-verses thou hast writ : 
 Which are so cleane, so chast, as none may feare 
 Cato the censor, sho'd he scan each here.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 LOVE scorch'd my finger, but did spare 
 The burning of" my heart ; 
 To signifie, in love my share 
 Sho'd be a little part. 
 
 Little I love ; but if that he 
 
 Wo'd but that heat recall : 
 That joynt to ashes sho'd be burnt, 
 
 Ere I wo'd love at all. 
 
 Dean-bourn, a rude River in Devon, by 
 
 WHICH sometimes HE LIVED. 
 
 DEAN-BOURN, farewell ; I never look to see 
 Deane, or thy warty incivility. 
 Thy rockie bottome, that doth teare thy streams, 
 And makes them frantick, ev'n to all extreames ; 
 To my content, I never sho'd behold, 
 Were thy streames silver, or thy rocks all gold. 
 Rockie thou art ; and rockie we discover 
 Thy men ; and rockie are thy wayes all over. 
 O men, O manners ; now, and ever knowne 
 To be a rockie generation ! 
 A people currish ; churlish as the seas ; 
 And rude, almost, as rudest salvages : 
 With whom I did, and may re-sojourne when 
 Rockes turn to rivers, rivers turn to men. 
 
 Kissing Usurie. 
 
 B' 
 
 lANCHA, let 
 Me pay the debt 
 I owe thee for a kisse 
 
 Thou lend'st to me ; 
 And I to thee 
 Will render ten for this :
 
 28 HESPERIDES. 
 
 If thou wilt say, 
 
 Ten will not pay 
 For that so rich a one ; 
 
 He cleare the summe, 
 
 If it will come 
 Unto a million. 
 
 By this I guesse, 
 
 Of happinesse 
 Who has a little measure : 
 
 He must of right, 
 
 To th'utmost mite, 
 Make payment for his pleasure. 
 
 To Julia. 
 
 HOW rich and pleasing thou, my Julia, art, 
 In each thy dainty, and peculiar part ! 
 First, for thy queen-ship on thy head is set 
 Of flowers a sweet commingled coronet : 
 About thy neck a carkanet is bound. 
 Made of the rubie, pearle, and diamond : 
 A golden ring, that shines upon thy thumb : 
 About thy wrist, the rich * Dardanium. 
 Between thy breast, then doune of swans more white, 
 There playes the saphire with the chrysolite. 
 No part besides must of thy selfe be known. 
 But by the topaz, opal, calcedon. 
 
 To Laurels. 
 
 A 
 
 FUNERALL stone, 
 Or verse, I covet none ; 
 But onely crave 
 Of you, that I may have 
 A sacred laurel springing from my grave : 
 
 * A bracelet, from Dardanus so call'd.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Which being seen, 
 Blest with perpetuall greene, 
 
 May grow to be 
 Not so much call'd a tree, 
 As the eternall monument of me. 
 
 •29 
 
 His Cavalier. 
 
 r~^ IVE me that man, that dares bestride 
 ^-* The active sea-horse, & with pride, 
 Through that huge field of waters ride : 
 Who, with his looks too, can appease 
 The ruffling winds and raging seas, 
 In niid'st of all their outrages. 
 This, this a virtuous man can doe, 
 Saile against rocks, and split them too ; 
 I ! and a world of pikes passe through. 
 
 Zeal required in Love. 
 
 T 'LE doe my best to win, when'ere I wooe : 
 -*- That man loves not, who is not zealous too. 
 
 The Bag of the Bee. 
 
 ABOUT the sweet bag of a bee. 
 Two Cupids fell at odds ; 
 And whose the pretty prize shu'd be, 
 They vow'd to ask the gods. 
 
 Which Venus hearing, thither came. 
 And for their boldness stript them : 
 
 And taking thence from each his Hame ; 
 With rods of mirtle whipt them. 
 
 Which done, to still their wanton cries. 
 When quiet grown sh'ad seen them. 
 
 She kist, and wip'd thir dove-like eyes ; 
 And gave the bag between them.
 
 30 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Love kill'd by Lack. 
 
 T ET me be warme ; let me be fully fed : 
 -'— ' Luxurious Love hy wealth is nourished. 
 Let me be leane, and cold, and once grown poore, 
 I shall dislike what once I lov'd before. 
 
 To HIS MiSTRESSE. 
 
 CHOOSE me your Valentine ; 
 Next, let us marry : 
 Love to the death will pine, 
 If we long tarry. 
 
 Promise, and keep your vowes. 
 
 Or vow ye never : 
 Loves doctrine disallowes 
 
 Troth-breakers ever. 
 
 You have broke promise twice 
 
 Deare, to undoe me ; 
 If you prove faithlesse thrice. 
 
 None then will wooe you. 
 
 To THE GENEROUS IIeADER. 
 
 SEE, and not see ; and if thou chance t'espie 
 Some aberrations in my poetry ; 
 Wink at small faults, the greater, ne'rthelesse 
 Hide, and with them, their father's nakedness. 
 Let's doe our best, our watch and ward to keep : 
 Homer himself, in a long work, may sleep. 
 
 To Criticks. 
 
 ILE write, because lie give 
 Yovi criticks means to live : 
 For sho'd I not supply 
 The cause, th'eflfect wo'd die.
 
 HESPERIDES. 31 
 
 Duty to Tyrants. 
 
 GOOD princes must be pray'd for : for the bad 
 They must be borne with, and in rev'rence h ad 
 Doe they first pill thee, next, pluck off thy skin ? 
 Good children kisse the rods, that punish sin. 
 Touch not the tyrant ; let the gods alone 
 To strike him dead, that but usurps a throne. 
 
 Being once blind, his request to Biancha. 
 
 WHEN age or chance has made me blind, 
 So that the path I cannot find : 
 And when my foils and stumblings are 
 More then the stones i'th'street by farre : 
 Goethou afore; and I shall well 
 Follow thy perfumes by the smell : 
 Or be my guide ; and I shall be 
 Led by some light that flows from thee. 
 Thus held, or led by thee, I shall 
 In wayes confus'd, nor slip or fall. 
 
 Upon Blanch. 
 
 BLANCH swears her husband's lovely : when a 
 scald 
 Has blear'd his eyes : besides, his head is bald. 
 Next, his wilde eares, like lethern wings full spread, 
 Flutter to flie, and beare away his head. 
 
 No WANT WHERE THERe's LITTLE. 
 
 TO bread and water none is poore ; 
 And having these, what need of more ? 
 Though much from out the Cess be spent. 
 Nature with little is content.
 
 32 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Barlt-Break : or, Last in Hell. 
 
 "\ 1^ TE two are last in hell : what may we feare 
 * » To be tormented, or kept pris'ners here ? 
 Alas ! if kissing be of plagues the worst. 
 We'll wish, in hell we had been last and first. 
 
 The Definition of Beauty. 
 
 T) EAUTY no other thing is, then a beame 
 
 -L' Flasht out between the middle and extreame. 
 
 To Dianeme. 
 
 DEARE, though to part it be a hell, 
 Yet, Dianeme, now farewell : 
 Thy frown, last night, did bid me goe ; 
 But whither, onely grief do's know. 
 I doe beseech thee, ere we part, 
 (If mercifull, as faire thou art ; 
 Or else desir'st that maids sho'd tell 
 Thy pitty by Loves-chronicle) 
 O Dianeme, rather kill 
 Me, then to make me languish stil ! 
 'Tis cruelty in thee to'th'height. 
 Thus, thus to wound, not kill out-right 
 Yet there's a way found, if thou please. 
 By sudden death to give me ease : 
 And thus devis'd, doe thou but this, 
 Bequeath to me one parting kisse : 
 So sup'rabundant joy shall be 
 The executioner of me.
 
 HESPERIDES. 33 
 
 To Anthea lying in Bed. 
 
 SO looks Anthea, when in bed she lyes, 
 Orecome, or halfe betray'd by tifTanies : 
 Like to a twi-light, or that sinipring (hxwn, 
 That roses shew, when misted o're with lawn. 
 Twilight is yet, till that her lawnes give way ; 
 Which done, that dawne, turnes then to perfect day. 
 
 To Electra. 
 
 MORE white then whitest lillles far, 
 Or snow, or whitest swans you are : 
 More white then are the wiiitest creames, 
 Or moone-light tinselling the streames : 
 More white then pearls, or Juno's thigh ; 
 Or Pelops arme of yvorie. 
 True, I confesse ; such whites as these 
 May me delight, not fully please : 
 Till, like Ixion's cloud, you be 
 White, warme, and soft to lye with me. 
 
 A Country Life : to his Brother, 
 M. Tho: IIerrick. 
 
 THRICE, and above blest, my soules halfe, art 
 thou, 
 
 In thy both last, and better vow : 
 Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see 
 
 The countries sweet simplicity : 
 And it to know, uml practice; with intent 
 
 To grow the sooner innocent : 
 By studying to know vertue ; and to aime 
 
 More at her nature, then her name : 
 The last is but the least ; the first doth tell 
 
 Wayes lesse to live, then to live well : 
 
 D
 
 34 HESPERIDES. 
 
 And both are knowne to thee, who now can'st live 
 
 Led by thy conscience ; to give 
 Justice to soone-pleas'd nature ; and to show, 
 
 Wisdome and she together goe, 
 And keep one centre : this with that conspires, 
 
 To teach man to confine desires : 
 And know, that riches have their proper stint, 
 
 In the contented mind, not mint. 
 \nd can'st instruct, that those who have the itch 
 
 Of craving more, are never rich. 
 These things thou know'st to'th'height, and dost 
 prevent 
 
 That plague ; because thou art content 
 With that heav'n gave thee with a warie hand, 
 
 (More blessed in thy brasse, then land) 
 To keep cheap nature even, and upright ; 
 
 To coole, not cocker appetite. 
 Thus thou canst tearcely live to satisfie 
 
 The belly chiefly ; not the eye : 
 Keeping the barking stomach wisely quiet, 
 
 Lesse with a neat, then needfull diet. 
 But that which most makes sweet thy country life. 
 
 Is, the fruition of a wife : 
 Whom, stars consenting with thy fate, thou hast 
 
 Got, not so beautiful!, as chast : 
 By whose warme side thou dost securely sleep, 
 
 While Love the centinell doth keep. 
 With those deeds done by day, which n'er affright 
 
 Thy silken slumbers in the night. 
 Nor has the darknesse power to usher in 
 
 Feare to those sheets, that know no sin. 
 But still thy wife, by chast intentions led. 
 
 Gives thee each night a maidenhead. 
 The damaskt medowes, and the peebly streames 
 
 Sweeten, and make soft your dreames ; 
 The purling springs, groves, birds, and well-weav'd 
 bowrs, 
 
 With fields enameled with flowers,
 
 HESPERIDES. 35 
 
 Present their shapes ; while fantasie discloses 
 
 Millions of lillies mixt with roses. 
 Then dream, je heare the lamb by many a bleat 
 
 Woo'd lO come suck the milkie teat : 
 While Faunus in the vision comes to keep, 
 
 From rav'ning wolves, the fleecie sheep. 
 With thousand such enchanting dreams, that meet 
 
 To make sleep not so sound, as sweet : 
 Nor can these figures so thy rest endeare, 
 
 As not to rise when Chanticlere 
 Warnes the last watch ; but with the dawne dost rise 
 
 To work, but first to sacrifice ; 
 Making thy peace with heav'n, for some late fault. 
 
 With holy-meale, and spirting-salt. 
 Which done, thy painfull thumb this sentence tells us, 
 
 Jove fur our labour all things sells us. 
 Nor are thy daily and devout affaires 
 
 Attended with those desp'rate cares, 
 Th' industrious merchant has ; who for to find 
 
 Gold, runneth to the Western Inde, 
 And back again ; tortur'd with fears, doth fly, 
 
 Untaught, to suffer poverty. 
 But thou at home, blest with securest ease, 
 
 Sitt'st, and beleev'st that there be seas, 
 And watrie dangers ; while thy whiter hap, 
 
 But sees these things within thy map. 
 And viewing them with a more safe survey, 
 
 Mak'st easie feare unto thee say, 
 A heart thrice tvaWd with olie, and brasse, that man 
 
 Had, first, durst ploiv the ocean. 
 But thou at home without or tyde or gale, 
 
 Canst in thy map securely saile : 
 Seeing those painted countries ; and so guesse 
 
 By those fine shades, their substances : 
 And from thy com.passe taking small advice, 
 
 Buy'st travell at the lowest price. 
 Nor are thine eares so deafe, but thou canst heare. 
 
 Far more with wonder, then with feare,
 
 36 HESFERIDES. 
 
 Fame tell of states, of countries, courts, and kings ; 
 
 And beleeve there be such things : 
 When of these truths, thy happyer knowledge lyes, 
 
 More in thine eares, then in thine eyes. 
 And when thou hear'st by that too-true-report, 
 
 Vice rules the most, or all at court : 
 Thy pious wishes are, though thou not there, 
 
 Vertue had, and mov'd her sphere. 
 But thou liv'st fearlesse ; an^ thy face ne'r shewes 
 
 Fortune when she comes, or goes. 
 But with thy equall thouglits, prepar'd dost stand, 
 
 To take her by the either hand : 
 Nor car'st which comes the first, the foule or faire ; 
 
 A wise man evry way lies square. 
 And like a surly oke, with storms perplext ; 
 
 Growes still the stronger, strongly vext. 
 Be so, bold spirit ; stand center-like, unmov'd; 
 
 And be not onely thought, but prov'd 
 To be what I report thee ; and inure 
 
 Thy selfe, if want comes to endure : 
 And so thou dost : for thy desires are 
 
 Confin'd to live with private Larr : 
 Not curious whether appetite be fed, 
 
 Or with the first, or second bread. 
 Who keep'st no proud mouth for delicious cates : 
 
 Hunger makes coorse meats, delicates. 
 Can'st, and unurg'd, forsake that larded fare. 
 
 Which art, not nature, makes so rare; 
 To taste boyl'd nettles, colworts, beets, and eatc 
 
 These, and sowre herbs, as dainty meat ? 
 While soft opinion makes thy Genius say, 
 
 Content makes all ambrosia. 
 Nor is it, that thou keep'st this stricter size 
 
 So much for want, as exercise : 
 To numb the sence of dearth, which sho'd sinne 
 haste it, 
 
 Thou might'st but onely see't, not taste it. 
 Yet can thy humble roofe maintaine a quire
 
 HESPEEIDES. 37 
 
 Of singing cricklts by thy fire : 
 And the brisk mouse may feast her selfe with cruras, 
 
 Till that the green-cy'd kitliiig conies. 
 Then to her cabbin, blest she can escape 
 
 The sudden danger of a rape. 
 And thus thy little-well-kept stock doth prove, 
 
 Wealth cannot make a life, but Love. 
 Nor art thou so close-handed, but can'st spend 
 
 (Counsell concurring with the end) 
 As well as spare : still conning o'r this theame. 
 
 To shun the first, and last extreame. 
 Ordaining that thy small stock find no breach, 
 
 Or to exceed thy tether's reach : 
 But to live round, and close, and wisely true 
 
 To thine owne selfe ; and knowne to few. 
 Thus let thy rurall sanctuary be 
 
 Elizium to thy wife and thee ; 
 There to disport your selves with golden measure : 
 
 Eor seldome use commends the pleasure. 
 Live, and live blest ; thrice happy paire ; let breath, 
 
 But lost to one, be th' others death. 
 And as there is one love, one faith, one troth, 
 
 Be so one death, one grave to both. 
 Till when, in such assurance live, ye may 
 
 Nor feare, or wish your dying day. 
 
 Divination by a Daffadill. 
 
 WHEN a daffadill I see, 
 Hansino; down his head t'wards me : 
 Guesse I may, what I nmst be : 
 First, I shall decline my head ; 
 Secondly, I shall be dead ; 
 Lastly, safely buryed.
 
 38 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE Painter, to draw him a Picture. 
 
 COME, skilful! Lupo, now, and take 
 Thy bice, thy vmber, pink, and lake ; 
 And let it be thy pensll's strife. 
 To paint a bridgeman to the life : 
 Draw him as like too, as you can. 
 An old, poore, lying, flatt'ring man : 
 His cheeks be-pimpled, red and blue ; 
 His nose and lips of mulbrie hiew. 
 Then for an easie fansie, place 
 A burling iron for his face : 
 Next, make his cheeks with breath to swell, 
 And for to speak, if possible : 
 But do not so ; for feare, lest he 
 Sho'd by his breathing, poyson thee. 
 
 Upon Cuffe. Epig. 
 
 CUFFE comes to church much ; but he keeps 
 his bed 
 Those Sundayes onely, when as briefs are read. 
 This makes CuiFe dull ; and troubles him the most, 
 Because he cannot sleep i'th' Church, free-cost. 
 
 Upon Fone a School-master. Epig. 
 
 FONE sayes, those mighty whiskers he do's weare, 
 Are twigs of birch, and willow, growing there : 
 Is so, we'll think too, when he do's condemne 
 Boyes to the lash, that he do's whip with them. 
 
 A Lyrick to Mirth. 
 
 WHILE the milder fates consent, 
 Let's enjoy our merryment : 
 Drink, and dance, and pipe, and play ; 
 Kisse our dollies night and day :
 
 HESPERIDES. 39 
 
 Crown'd with clusters of the vine ; 
 Let us sit, and quaffe our wine. 
 Call on Bacchus ; chaunt his praise ; 
 Shake the thyrse, and bite the bayes : 
 Rouze Anacreon from the dead ; 
 And return him drunk to bed : 
 Sing o're Horace : for ere long 
 Death will come and mar the song : 
 Then shall Wilson and Gotiere 
 Never sing, or play more here. 
 
 To THE Earle of Westmerland. 
 
 WHEN my date's done, and my gray age 
 must die ; 
 Nurse up, great lord, this my posterity : 
 Weak though it be ; long may It grow, and stand, 
 Shor'd up by you, (brave Earle of Westmerland.) 
 
 AcAiNst Love. 
 
 WHEN ere my heart, love's warmth, but enter- 
 talnes, 
 frost ! O snow ! O halle ! forbid the banes. 
 One drop now deads a spark ; but If the same 
 Once gets a force, floods cannot quench the flame. 
 Rather then love, let me be ever lost ; 
 Or let me 'gender with eternall frost. 
 
 o^ 
 
 Upon Julia's Riband. 
 
 AS shews the aire, when with a rain-bow grac'd ; 
 So smiles that riband 'bout my Julia's waste : 
 
 Or like nay 'tis that Zonulet of love, 
 
 Wherein all pleasures of the world are wove.
 
 40 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Frozen Zone : or, Julia disdainfull. 
 
 WHITHER ? say, whither shall I fly, 
 To slack these flames wherein I frie ? 
 
 To the treasures, sliall I goe. 
 
 Of the raine, frost, Iiaile, and snow? 
 
 Shall I search the iinder-ground, 
 
 Where all damps, and mists are found ? 
 
 Shall I seek, for speedy ease, 
 
 All the floods, and frozen seas ? 
 
 Or descend into the deep, 
 
 Where eternall cold does keep ? 
 
 These may coole ; but there's a zone 
 
 Colder yet then any one : 
 
 That's my Julia's bi east ; where dwels 
 
 Such destructive j'sicles ; 
 As that the conj:;elation will 
 Me sooner starve, then those can kill. 
 
 An Epitaph upon a sober IMatron. 
 
 WITH blamelesse carriage, I liv'd here. 
 To' th' almost sev'n and fortieth yeare. 
 Stout sons I had, and those twice three ; 
 One onely daughter lent to me : 
 The which was made a happy Bride, 
 But thrice three IMooues before she dy'd. 
 My modest wedlock, that was known 
 Contented with the bed of one. 
 
 To THE Patron of Poets, M. End : Porter. 
 
 LET there be patrons ; patrons like to thee, 
 Brave Porter ! poets ne'r will wanting be : 
 Fabius, and Cotta, Lentulus, all live 
 In thee, thou man of men ! who here do'st give
 
 HESPERIDES. 41 
 
 Not onely subject-matter for our wit, 
 
 But likewise oyle of maintenance to it : 
 
 For which, before thy threshold, we'll lay downe 
 
 Our thyrse, for scepter ; and our buies for crown. 
 
 For to say truth, all garlands are thy due ; 
 
 The laurell, mirtle, oke, and ivie too. 
 
 The Sadnesse of Things for Sapho's Sicknesse. 
 
 LILLTES will languish ; violets look ill ; 
 Sickly the prim-rose ; pale the datfadill : 
 That gallant tulip will hang down his head, '^ 
 Like to a virgin newly ravished. 
 Pansies will %veep ; and raarygolds will wither ; 
 And keep a fast, and funerall together, 
 If Sapho droop ; daisies will open never. 
 But bid good-night, and close their lids for ever, 
 
 Leanders Obsequies. 
 
 WHEX as Leander young was drown' d, 
 No heart by love receiv'd a wound ; 
 But on a rock himselfe sate by, 
 There weeping sup'rabundantly. 
 Siijhs numberlesse he cast about. 
 And all his tapers thus put out : 
 His head upon his hand he laid ; 
 And sobbing deeply, thus he said, 
 Ah, cruell sea ! and looking on't. 
 Wept as he'd drowne the Hellespont. 
 And sure his tongue had more exprest, 
 But that his teares forbad the rest. 
 
 N 
 
 Hope heartens. 
 
 ONE goes to warfare, but with this intent ; 
 The gaines must dead the feare of detriment.
 
 42 HESPERIDES. 
 
 ,i) FouRE Things make us happy here. 
 
 HEALTH is the first good lent to men ; 
 A gentle disposition then : 
 Next, to be rich by no by-wayes ; 
 Lastly, with friends t'enjoy our dayes. 
 
 His Parting from Mrs. Dorothy Keneday. 
 
 WHEN I did goe from thee, I felt that smart, 
 Which bodies do, when souls from them 
 depart. 
 Thou did'st not mind it; though thou then might'st 
 
 see 
 Me turn'd to tears ; yet did'st not weep for me. 
 'Tis true, I kist thee ; but I co'd not heare 
 Thee spend a sigh, t'accompany my teare. 
 Me thought 'twas strange, that thou so hard sho'dst 
 
 prove. 
 Whose heart, whose hand, whose ev'ry part spake 
 
 love. 
 Prethee (lest maids sho'd censure thee) but say 
 Thou shed'st one teare, when as I went away ; 
 And that will please me somewhat : though I know, 
 And Love will swear't, my dearest did not so. 
 
 The Teare sent to her from Stanes. 
 
 1. /'"^LIDE, gentle streams, and beare 
 ^^ Along with you my teare 
 
 To that coy girle ; 
 
 AVho smiles, yet slayes 
 
 Me with delayes ; 
 And strings my tears as pearle.
 
 HESPERIDES. 43 
 
 2. See ! see, she's yonder set. 
 Making a carkanet 
 
 Of mai(ieii -flowers ! 
 There, there present 
 This orient. 
 And pendant pearle of ours. 
 
 3. Then say, I've sent one more 
 Jem to enrich her store ; 
 
 And that is all 
 Which I can send, 
 Or vainly spend, 
 For tears no more will fall. 
 
 4. Nor will I seek supply 
 
 Of them, the spring's once drie ; 
 
 But lie devise, 
 
 (Among the rest) 
 
 A way that's best 
 How I may save mine eyes. 
 
 6. Yet say ; sho'd she condemne 
 Me to surrender them ; 
 
 Then say ; my part 
 
 Must be to weep 
 
 Out them, to keep 
 A poore, yet loving heart. 
 
 6. Say too. She wo'd have this ; 
 She shall : then my hope is. 
 That when I'm poore. 
 And nothing have 
 To send, or save ; 
 I'm sure she'll ask no more.
 
 44 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon one Lillie, who marryed with a Maid 
 call'd Rose. 
 
 WHAT times of sweetnesse this faire day fore- 
 shows, 
 When as the Lilly marries with the Rose ! 
 What next is lookt for ? but we all sho'd see 
 To spring from these a sweet posterity. 
 
 An Epitaph upon a Child. 
 
 VIRGINS promis'd when I dy'd, 
 'J'hat they wo'd each primrose-tide, 
 Duely, morne and ev'uing, come, 
 And with flowers dresse my tomb. 
 Having promis'd, pay your debts. 
 Maids, and here strew violets. 
 
 Upon Scobble. Epig. 
 
 S COBBLE for whoredome whips his wife; and 
 cryes, 
 He'll slit her nose ; but blubb'ring, she replyes, 
 Good sir, make no more cuts i'th' outward skin. 
 One slit's enough to let adultry in. 
 
 The Houre-glasse. 
 
 « 
 
 THAT houre-glasse, which there ye see 
 With water hll'd, sirs, credit me, 
 The humour was, as I have read, 
 But lovers tears inchristalled. 
 Which, as they drop by drop doe passe 
 From th' upper to the under-glasse. 
 Do in a trickling manner tell, 
 (By many a watrie syllable) 
 That lovers tears in life-time shed, 
 Do restless run when they are dead.
 
 HESPERIDES. 45 
 
 His Fare-well to Sack. 
 
 FAREWELL, thou thing, time-past so knowne, so 
 deare 
 To me, as blood to life and spirit : neare. 
 Nay, thou more neare then kindred, friend, man, wife, 
 Male to the female, soule to body : life 
 To quick action, or the warme soft side 
 Of the resigning, yet resisting bride. 
 The kisse of virgins ; first-fruits of the bed ; 
 Soft speech, smooth touch, the lips, the maidenhead : 
 These, and a thousand sweets, co'd never be 
 So neare, or deare, as thou wast once to me. 
 O thou the drink of gods, and angels ! wine 
 That scatter'st spirit and lust ; whose purest shine. 
 More radiant then the summers sun-beams shows ; 
 Each way illustrious, brave ; and like to those 
 Comets we see by night ; whose shagg'd portents 
 Fore-tell the comraing of some dire events: 
 Or some full flame, which with a pride aspires. 
 Throwing about his wild, and active fires. 
 'Tis thou, above nectar, O divinest soule ! 
 (Eternall in thy self) that canst controule 
 That, which subverts whole nature, grief and care ; 
 Vexation of the mind, and damn'd despaire. 
 'Tis thou, alone, who with thy mistick fan, 
 TVork'st more then wisdome, art, or nature can, 
 To rouze the sacred madnesse ; and awake 
 The frost-bound-blood, and spirits ; and to make 
 Them frantick with thy raptures, flashing through 
 The soule, like lightning, and as active too. 
 'Tis not Apollo can, or those thrice three 
 Castalian sisters, sing, if wanting thee. 
 Horace, Anacreon both had lost their fame, 
 Hadst thou not fill'd them with thy fire and flame. 
 Phfebean splendour ! and thou Thespian spring ! 
 Of which, sweet swans must drink, before they sing
 
 46 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Their true-pac'd numbers, and their holy-layes, 
 
 Which makes them worthy cedar, and the bayes. 
 
 But why ? why longer doe I gaze upon 
 
 Thee with the eye of admiration ? 
 
 Since I must leave thee ; and enforc'd, must say 
 
 To all thy witching beauties, Goe, away. 
 
 But if thy whimpring looks doe ask me why ? 
 
 Then know, that nature bids thee goe, not I. 
 
 'Tis her erroneous self has made a braine 
 
 Uncapable of such a soveraigne. 
 
 As is thy powerful! selfe. Prethee not smile ; 
 
 Or smile more inly ; lest thy looks beguile 
 
 My vowes denounc'd in zeale, which thus much show 
 
 thee, 
 That I have sworn, but by thy looks to know thee. 
 Let others drink thee freely ; and desire 
 Thee and their lips espous'd ; while I admire, 
 And love thee ; but not taste thee. Let my muse 
 Fade of thy former helps ; and onely use 
 Her inadult'rate strength : what's done by me 
 Hereafter, shall smell of the lamp, not thee. 
 
 Upon Glasco. Epig. 
 
 GLASCO had none, but now some teeth has got; 
 Which though they furre, will neither ake, or 
 rot. 
 Six teeth he has, whereof twice two are known 
 Made of a haft, that was a mutton-bone. 
 Which not for use, but meerly for the sight, 
 He weares all day, and drawes those teeth at night. 
 
 Upon Mrs. Eliz : Wheeler, under the name 
 OF Amarillis. 
 
 SWEET Amarillis, by a spring's 
 Soft and soule -melting murmurings, 
 Slept ; and thus sleeping, thither flew
 
 HESPERIDES. 47 
 
 A Robin -red-brest ; who at view, 
 
 Not seeing her at all to stir, 
 
 Brought leaves and uiosse to cover her : 
 
 But while he, perking, there did prie 
 
 About the arch of eitlier eye ; 
 
 The lid began to let out day ; 
 
 At which poore Robin flew away : 
 And seeing her not dead, but all disleav'd ; 
 He chirpt for joy, to see himself disceav'd. 
 
 The Custakd. 
 
 FOR second course, last night, a custard came 
 To th' board, so hot, as none co'd touch the 
 same : 
 Furze, three or foure times with his cheeks did blow 
 Upon the custard, and thus cooled so ; 
 It seem'd by this time to admit the touch : 
 But none cold eate it, 'cause it stunk so much. 
 
 To Mtrrha hard-hearted. 
 
 FOLD now thine amies ; and hang the head, 
 Like to a Lillie withered : 
 Next, look thou like a sickly moone ; 
 Or like Jocasta in a swoone. 
 Then weep, and sigh, and softly goe, 
 Like to a widdow drown'd in woe : 
 Or like a virgin full of ruth. 
 For the lost sweet-heart of her youth : 
 And all because, faire maid, thou art 
 Insensible of all my smart ; 
 And of those evill dayes that be 
 Now posting on to punish thee 
 The Gods are easie, and condemne 
 All such as are not soft like them.
 
 48 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Eye. 
 
 MAKE me a heaven ; and make me there 
 Many a lesse and greater spheare. 
 Make me the straight, and oblique lines ; 
 The motions, lations, and the signes. 
 Make me a chariot, and a sun ; 
 And let them through a zodiac run : 
 Next, place me zones, and tropicks there ; 
 With all the seasons of the yeare. 
 Make me a sun-set ; and a night : 
 And then present the mornings-light 
 Cloath'd in her chamlets of delight. 
 To these, make clouds to poure downe raine ; 
 "With weather foule, then faire againe. 
 And when, wise artist, that thou hast, 
 With all that can be, this heaven grac't ; 
 Ah ! what is then this curious skie, 
 But onely my Corinna's eye ? 
 
 Upon the much lamented, Mr. J. Warr. 
 
 WHAT wisdome, learning, wit, or worth, 
 Youth, or sweet nature, co'd bring forth, 
 Rests here with him ; who was the fame. 
 The volume of himselfe, and name. 
 If, reader, then thou wilt draw neere, 
 And doe an honour to thy teare ; 
 Weep then for him, for whom laments 
 Not one, but many monuments. 
 
 Upon Gryll. 
 
 GRYLL eates, but ne're sayes grace ; to speak the 
 troth, 
 Gryll either keeps his breath to coole his broth ; 
 Or else because Grill's roste do's burn his spit, 
 Gryll will not therefore say a grace for it.
 
 HESPERIDES. 49 
 
 The Suspition upon his over-much Familiaeity 
 WITH A Gentlewoman. 
 
 A ND must we part, because some say, 
 ■^ ^ Loud is our love, and loose our play, 
 And more then well becomes the day ? 
 Alas for pitty ! and for us 
 Most innocent, and injur'd thus 
 Had we kept close, or play'd within, 
 Suspition now had been the sinne, 
 And shame had follow'd long ere this, 
 T'ave plagu'd, what now unpunisht is. 
 But we as fearlesse of the sunne. 
 As faultlesse ; will not wish undone, 
 What now is done : since where no sin 
 Unbolts the doore, no shame comes in. 
 Then, comely and most fragrant maid. 
 Be you more warie, then afraid 
 Of these reports ; because you see 
 The fairest most suspected be. 
 The common formes have no one eye, 
 Or eare of burning jealousie 
 To follow them : but chiefly, where 
 Love makes the cheek, and chin a sphere 
 To dance and play in : trust me, there 
 Suspicion questions every haire. 
 Come, you are faire ; and sho'd be seen 
 While you are in your sprightfuU green : 
 And what though you had been embrac't 
 By me, were you for that unchast ? 
 No, no, no more then is yond' moone. 
 Which shilling in her perfect noone ; 
 In all tliat great and glorious light. 
 Continues cold, as is the niirht. 
 Then, beauteous maid, you may retire ; 
 And as for me, my chast desire 
 
 B
 
 50 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Shall move t'wards you ; although I see 
 Your face no more : so live you free 
 From Fames black lips, as you from me. 
 
 Single Life most secure. 
 
 SUSPICION, discontent, and strife, 
 Come in for dowrie with a wife. 
 
 The Cubse. A Song. 
 
 GOE, perjur'd man ; and if thou ere return 
 To see the small remainders in mine urne : 
 When thou shalt laugh at my religious dust ; 
 And ask, Where's now the coloxir, forme and trust 
 Of woman's beauty ? and with hand more rude 
 Kifle the flowers which the virgins strew'd : 
 Know, I have pray'd to Furie, that some wind 
 May blow my ashes up, and strike thee blind. 
 
 The wounded Cupid. Song. 
 
 CUPID as he lay among 
 Roses, by a bee was stung. 
 Whereupon in anger flying 
 To his mother, said thus crying ; 
 Help ! O help ! your boy's a dying. 
 And why, my pretty lad, said she ? 
 Then blubbering, replyed he, 
 A winged snake has bitten me. 
 Which country people call a bee. 
 At which she smil'd ; then with her hairs 
 And kisses drying up his tears : 
 Alas ! said she, my wag ! if this 
 Such a pernicious torment is : 
 Come tel me then, how great's the smart 
 Of those, thou wouudest with thy dart !
 
 HESPETtlDES. 51 
 
 To Dewes. a Song. 
 
 I BURN, I burn ; and beg of you 
 To quench, or coole me with your dew. 
 I frie in fire, and so consume, 
 Although the pile be all perfume. 
 Alas! the heat and death's the same; 
 Whether by choice, or common flame : 
 To be in oyle of roses drown'd, 
 Or water ; where's the comfort found ? 
 Both bring one death ; and I die here, 
 Unlesse you coole me with a teare : 
 Alas ! I call ; but ah ! I see 
 Ye coole, and comfort all, but me. 
 
 Some Comfokt in Calamity. 
 
 TO conquer'd men, some comfort 'tis to fall 
 By th'hand of him who is the generall. 
 
 The Yision. 
 
 SITTING alone, as one forsook, \- ^ 
 
 Close by a silver-shedding brook ; 
 With hands held up to Love, I wept ; 
 And after sorrowes spent, I slept : 
 Then in a vision I did see 
 A ttiorious forme appeare to me : 
 A virgins face she had ; her dresse 
 Was like a sprightly Spartanesse. 
 A silver bow with green silk strung, 
 Down from her comely shoulders hung : 
 And as she stood, the wanton aire 
 Dandled the ringlets of her haire. 
 Her legs were such Diana shows. 
 When tuckt up she a hunting goes ; 
 With buskins shortned to descrie 
 The happy dawning of her thigh :
 
 62 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Which when I saw, I made accesse 
 To kisse that tempting nakednesse : 
 But she forbad nie, with a wand 
 Of mirtle she had in her hand : 
 And chiding me, said, Hence, remove, 
 Herrick, thou art too coorse to love. 
 
 Love me little, love me long. 
 
 \TO^J say, to me-wards your affection's strong; 
 -•- Pray love me little, so you love me long. 
 Slowly goes farre : the meane is best : desire 
 Grown violent, do's either die, or tire. 
 
 Upon a Virgin kissing a Rose. 
 
 TWAS but a single rose, 
 Till you on it did breathe ; 
 But since, me thinks, it shows 
 Not so much rose, as wreathe. 
 
 Upon a Wife that dyed mad with Jealousie. 
 
 IN this little vault she lyes, 
 Here, with all her jealousies : 
 Quiet yet ; but if ye make 
 Any noise, they both will wake, 
 And such spirits raise, 'twill then 
 Trouble Death to lay agen. 
 
 Upon the Bishop of Lincolne's Imprisonment. 
 
 NEVER was day so over-sick with showres, 
 But that it had some iritermittiug houres. 
 Never was night so tedious, but it knew 
 The last watch out, and saw the .dawning too. 
 Never was dungeon so obscurely deep, 
 Wherein or light, or day, did never peep.
 
 HESPERIDES. 53 
 
 Never did moone so ebbe, or seas to wane, 
 
 But they left hope-seed to fill up againe. 
 
 So you, my lord, though you have now your stay, 
 
 Your night, your prison, and your ebbe ; you may 
 
 Spring up afresh ; when all these mists are spent. 
 
 And star-like, once more, guild our firmament. 
 
 Let but that mighty Cesar speak, and then. 
 
 All bolts, all barres, all gates shall cleave ; as when 
 
 That earth-quake shook the house, and gave the stout 
 
 Apostles, way, unshackled, to goe out. 
 
 This, as I wish for, so I hope to see ; 
 
 Though you, my lord, have been unkind to me : 
 
 To wound my heart, and never to apply. 
 
 When you had power, the meanest remedy : 
 
 Well ; though my griefe by you was gall'd, the more ; 
 
 Yet I bring balme and oile to heal your sore. 
 
 DlSSWASIONS FROM IdLENESSE. , 
 
 CYNTHIUS pluck ye by the eare, 
 That ye may good doctrine heare. 
 Play not with the maiden-haire ; 
 For each ringlet there's a snare. 
 Cheek, and eye, and lip, and chin; 
 These are traps to take fooles in. 
 Armes, and hands, and all parts else, 
 Are but toiles, or manicles 
 Set on purpose to enthrall 
 Men, but slothfuUs most of all. 
 Live employ'd, and so live free 
 From these fetters ; like to me 
 Who have found, and still can prove, 
 The lazie man the most duth love. 
 
 3S-
 
 54 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Stkut. 
 
 STRUT, once a fore-uum of a shop wc knew ; 
 But turn'd a ladies usher now, 'tis true : 
 Tell me, has Strut got ere a title more ? 
 No ; he's but fore-man, as he was before. 
 
 An Epithalamie to Sir Thomas Southwell 
 AND HIS Ladie. 
 
 NOW, now's the time ; so oft by truth 
 Promis'd sho'd come to crown your youth. 
 
 Then faire ones, doe not wrong 
 
 Tour joyes, by staying long : 
 
 Or let Love's fire goe out, 
 
 By lingring thus in doubt : 
 
 But learn, that time once lost, 
 
 Is ne'r redeera'd by cost. 
 Then away ; come. Hymen, guide 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 ir. 
 
 Is it, sweet maid, your fault these holy 
 Bridall-rites goe on so slowly? 
 
 Deare, is it this you dread, 
 
 The losse of maiden -head ? 
 
 Beleeve me ; you will most 
 
 Esteeme it when 'tis lost : 
 
 Then it no longer keep, 
 
 Lest issue lye asleep. 
 Then away ; come. Hymen, guide 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 III. 
 These precious-pearly-purling teares. 
 But spring from ceremonious feares.
 
 HESPERIDES. 55 
 
 And 'tis but native sbarae, 
 
 That hides the loving flame : 
 
 And may a while controule 
 
 The soft and ani'rous soule ; 
 
 But yet, Love's fire will wast 
 
 Such bashfiilnesse at last. 
 Then away ; come, Hymen, guide 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Night now hath watch'd her self half blind ; 
 Yet not a maiden-head resign'd ! 
 
 'Tis strange, ye will not flie 
 
 To Love's sweet mysterie. 
 
 Might yon full-moon the sweets 
 
 Have, promis'd to your sheets ; 
 
 She soon wo'd leave her spheare. 
 
 To be admitted there. 
 Then away ; come. Hymen, guide 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 On, on devoutly, make no stay ; 
 
 AVhile Domiduca leads the way : 
 And Genius who attends 
 The bed for luckie ends : 
 With Juno goes the houres, 
 And Graces strewing flowers. 
 And the boyes with sweet tunes sing, 
 Hymen ! O Hymen ! bring 
 
 Home the turtles ; Hymen, guide 
 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Behold ! how Hymen's taper-light 
 Shews you how much is spent of night. 
 See, see the bride-groom's torch 
 Halfe wasted in the porch.
 
 56 HESPERIDES. 
 
 And now those tapers five, 
 That shew the womb shall thrive : 
 Their silv'rie flames advance, 
 To tell all prosp'rous chance 
 
 Still shall crown the happy life 
 
 Of the good man and the wife. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Move forward then your rosie feet, 
 
 And make, what ere they touch, turn sweet. 
 May all, like flowrie meads 
 Smell, where your soft foot treads ; 
 And every thing assume 
 To it, the like perfume : 
 As Zephirus when he 'spires 
 Through woodbine, and sweet-bryers. 
 
 Then away ; come. Hymen, guide 
 
 To the bed, the bashfull bride. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 And now the yellow vaile, at last, 
 Over her fragrant cheek is cast. 
 
 Now seems she to expresse 
 
 A bashfull willingnesse : 
 
 Shewing a heart consenting ; 
 
 As with a will repenting. 
 
 Then gently lead her on 
 
 With wise suspicion : 
 For that, matrons say, a measure 
 Of that passion sweetens pleasure. 
 
 IX. 
 
 You, you that be of her neerest kin, 
 Now o're the threshold force her in. 
 
 But to avert the worst ; 
 
 Let her, her fillets first 
 
 Knit to the posts : this point 
 
 Kemembring, to anoint
 
 HESPERIDES. 57 
 
 The sides : for 'tis a charme 
 
 Stronn; ajrainst future harme : 
 And the evil deads, the which 
 There was hidden by the witch. 
 
 O Venus ! thou, to whom is known 
 The best way how to loose the zone 
 
 Of virgins ! tell the maid, 
 
 She need not be afraid : 
 
 And bid the youth apply 
 
 Close kisses, if she cry : 
 
 And charge, he not forbear? 
 
 Her, though she wooe with teares. 
 Tel them, now they must adventer, 
 Since that Love and Xight bid enter. 
 
 XI. 
 
 No fatal owle the bedsted keeps. 
 With direful notes to fright your sleeps ; 
 No furies, here about. 
 To put the tapers out. 
 Watch, or did make the bed : 
 'Tis omen full of dread : 
 But all faire signs appeare 
 Within the chamber here. 
 Juno here, far off, doth stand 
 Cooling sleep with charming wand. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Virgins, weep not ; 'twill come, when. 
 As she, so you'l be ripe for men. 
 
 Then grieve her not, with saying 
 She must no more a Maying : 
 Or by rose-buds devine, 
 Who'l be her Valentine. 
 Nor name those wanton reaks 
 Y'ave had at barly-breaks.
 
 58 HESPERIDES. 
 
 But now kisse her, and thus say, 
 Take time, lady, while ye may. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Now barre the doors, the bride-groom puts 
 
 The eager boyes to gather nuts. 
 
 And now, both Love and Time 
 To their full height doe clime : 
 O ! give them active heat 
 And moisture, both compleat : 
 Fit organs for encrease, 
 To keep, and to release 
 
 That, which may the honour'd stem 
 
 Circle with a diadem. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 And now, behold ! the bed or couch 
 
 That ne'r knew brides, or bride-grooms touch. 
 
 Feels in it selfe a fire ; 
 
 And tickled with desire. 
 
 Pants with a downie brest, 
 
 As with a heart possest : 
 
 Shruo'sins as it did move, 
 
 Ev'n with the soule of love. 
 And, oh ! had it but a tongue. 
 Doves, 'two'd say, yee bill too long. 
 
 XV. 
 
 enter then ! but see ye shun 
 
 A sleep, untill the act be done. 
 Let kisses, in their close, 
 Breathe as the damask rose : 
 Or sweet, as is that gumme 
 Doth from Panchaia come. 
 Teach nature now to know, 
 Lips can make cherries grow 
 
 Sooner, then she, ever yet, 
 
 In her wisdome co'd beget.
 
 HESPERIDES. 59 
 
 XVI. 
 
 On your minutes, hours, dayes, montlis, years, 
 Drop the fat blessing of the sphears. 
 
 That good, which Heav'n can give 
 
 To malce you bravely live ; 
 
 Fall, like a spangling dew, 
 
 By day, and night on you. 
 
 May Fortunes lilly-hand 
 
 Open at your command ; 
 With all luckie birds to side 
 With the bride -groom, and the bride. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Let bounteous Fate your spindles full 
 Fill, and winde up with whitest wooll. 
 
 Let them not cut the thred 
 
 Of life, untill ye bid. 
 
 May death yet come at last ; 
 
 And not with desp'rate hast ; 
 
 But when ye both can say, 
 
 Come, let us now away. 
 Be ye to the barn then born. 
 Two, like two ripe shocks of corn. 
 
 Teares are Tongues. 
 
 WHEN Julia chid, I stood as mute the while, 
 As is the fish, or tonguelesse crocodile. 
 Aire coyn'd to words, my Julia co'd not heare ; 
 But she co'd see each eye to stamp a teare : 
 By which, mine angry mistresse might descry, 
 Teares are the noble language of the eye. 
 And when true love of words is destitute. 
 The eyes by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.
 
 60 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon a totjng Mother of many Childeew. 
 
 LET all chaste matrons, when they chance to see 
 My num'rous issue, praise, and pitty me. 
 Praise me, for having such a fruitful! wombe ; 
 Pity me too, who found so soone a tomb. 
 
 To Electra. 
 
 ILE come to thee in all those shapes 
 As Jove did, when he made his rapes : 
 Onely, He not appeare to thee, 
 As he did once to Semele. 
 Thunder and lightning He lay by, 
 To talk with thee fiimiliarly. 
 Which done, then quickly we'll undresse 
 To one and th'others nakednesse. 
 And ravisht, plunge into the bed, 
 Bodies and souls commingled, 
 And kissing, so as none may heare. 
 We'll weary all the fables there. 
 
 His Wish. 
 
 IT is sufficient if we pray 
 To Jove, who gives, and takes away : 
 Let him the land and living finde ; 
 Let me alone to fit the mind. 
 
 His Protestation to Perilla. 
 
 NOONE-DAY and midnight shall at once be 
 scene : 
 Trees, at one time, shall be both sere and greene : 
 Fire and water shall together lye 
 In one-self-sweet-conspiring sympathie : 
 Summer and winter shall at one time show 
 Ripe eares of corne, and up to th'eares in snow :
 
 HESPERIDES. 61 
 
 Seas shall be sandlesse ; fields devoid of grasse ; 
 Shapelesse the world, as when all chaos was, 
 Before, my deare Perllla, I will be 
 False to my vow, or fall away from thee. 
 
 Love perfumes all fasts. l_^ 
 
 IF I kisse Anthea's brest. 
 There I smell the phenix nest : 
 If her lip, the most sincere 
 Altar of incense, I smell there. 
 Hands, and thighs, and legs, are all 
 Richly aromaticall. 
 Goddesse Isis cann't transfer 
 Musks and ambers more from her : 
 Nor can Juno sweeter be, 
 ■\Vhen she lyes with Jove, then she. 
 
 To Julia. 
 
 PERMIT me, Julia, now to goe away ; 
 Or by thy love, decree me here to stay. 
 If thou wilt say, that I shall live with thee : 
 Here shall my endless tabernacle be : 
 If not, as banisht, I will live alone 
 There, where no language ever yet was known. 
 
 On HlMSELFE. 
 
 LOVE-SICK I am, and must endure 
 A desp'rate grief, that finds no cure. 
 Ah me ! I try ; and trying, prove. 
 No herbs have jwwer to cure love. 
 Onely one soveraign salve I know, 
 And that is death, the end of woe.
 
 62 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Vertue is sensible of suffeeing. 
 
 THOUGH a wise man all pressures can sustaine ; 
 His vertue still is sensible of paine : 
 Large shoulders though he has, and well can beare, 
 He feeles when packs do pinch him ; and the where. 
 
 The cruell Maid. 
 
 AND, cruell maid, because I see 
 You scornfull of my love, and me : 
 He trouble you no more ; but goe 
 My way, where you shall never know 
 What is become of me : there I 
 Will find me out a path to die ; 
 Or learne some way how to forget 
 You, and your name, for ever :. yet 
 Ere I go hence ; know this from me. 
 What will, in time, your fortune be : 
 This to your coynesse I will tell ; 
 And having spoke it once, farewell. 
 The lillie will not long endure ; 
 Nor the snow continue pure : 
 The rose, the violet, one day 
 See, both these lady-flowers decay : 
 And you must fade, as well as they. 
 And it may chance that Love may turn, 
 And, like to mine, make your heart burn 
 And weep to see't ; yet this thing doe. 
 That my last vow commends to you : 
 When you shall see that I am dead, 
 For pitty let a teare be shed ; 
 And, with your mantle o're me cast, 
 Give my cold lips a kisse at last : 
 If twice you kisse, you need not feare, 
 That I shall stir, or live more here. 
 Next, hollow out a tombe to cover 
 Me ; me, the most despised lover :
 
 HESPERIBES. 63 
 
 And write thereon, This, reader, hum-. 
 Love kiWd this man. No more but so. 
 
 To DiANEME. 
 
 SWEET, be not proud of those two eyes, 
 Whick star-like sparkle iii their skies : 
 Nor be you proud, that you can see 
 All hearts your captives ; yours, yet free : 
 Be you not proud of that rich haire, 
 Which wantons with the love-sick aire : 
 When as that ruble, which you weare, 
 Sunk from the tip of your soft eare, 
 Will last to be a precious stone, 
 When all your world of beautie's gone. 
 
 To THE King, to cure the Evill. 
 
 TO find that tree of life, whose fruits did feed, 
 And leaves did heale, all sick of humane seed : 
 To finde Bethesda, and an angel there. 
 Stirring the waters, I am come ; and here, 
 At last, I find, after my much to doe, 
 The tree, Bethesda, and the angel too : 
 And all in your blest hand, which has the powers 
 Of all those suppling-healing herbs and flowers. 
 To that soft charm, that spell, that magick bough, 
 That high enchantment I betake me now : 
 And to that hand, the branch of Heavens faire tree, 
 I kneele for help ; O ! lay that hand on me, 
 Adored Cesar ! and my faith is such, 
 I shall be heal'd, if that my King but touch. 
 The evill is not yours : my sorrow sings, 
 Mine is the evill, but the cure, the Kings. 
 
 His Misery in a Mistresse. 
 
 WATER, water I espie : 
 Come, and coole ye : all who frie 
 In your loves ; but none as I.
 
 64 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Though a thousand showres be 
 Still a falling, yet I see 
 Not one drop to light on me. 
 
 Happy you, who can have seas 
 For to quench ye, or some ease 
 From your kinder mistresses. 
 
 I have one, and she alone. 
 
 Of a thousand thousand known, 
 
 Dead to all compassion. 
 
 Such an one, as will repeat 
 
 Both the cause, and make the heat 
 
 More by provocation great. 
 
 Gentle friends, though I despaire 
 Of my cure, doe you beware 
 Of those girles, which cruell are. 
 
 F 
 
 Upon Jollie's Wife. 
 
 IRST, Jollies wife is lame ; then next, loose-hipt : 
 Squint ey'd, hook-nos'd ; and lastly, kidney lipt. 
 
 To A Gentlewoman, objecting to him 
 
 HIS GRAY HaiRES. 
 
 AMI despis'd, because you say, 
 ■^ ^ And I dare sweare, that I am gray ? 
 Know, lady, you have but your day : 
 And time will come when you shall weare 
 Such frost and snow upon your haire : 
 And when, though long, it comes to passe, 
 You question with your looking-glasse ; 
 And in that sincere christall seek, 
 But find no rose-bud in your cheek: 
 Nor any bed to give the shew 
 Where such a rare carnation grew.
 
 . HESPERIDES. 65 
 
 Ah I 'then too late, close in your chamber keeping, 
 
 It will be told 
 
 That you are old ; 
 By those true teares y'are weeping. 
 
 To Cedars. 
 
 T F 'mongst iny many poems, I can see 
 
 -^ One onely, worthy to be washt by thee : 
 
 I live for ever ; let the rest all lye 
 
 In dennes of darkness, or condemu'd to die. 
 
 Upon Cupid. 
 
 LOVE, like a gypsie, lately came ; 
 And did me much importune 
 To see my hand ; that by the same 
 He might fore-tell my fortune. 
 
 He saw my palme ; and then, said he, 
 I tell thee, by this score here ; 
 
 That thou, within few months, shalt be 
 The youthfuU Prince D' Amour here. 
 
 I smil'd ; and bade him once more prove, 
 And by some crosse-line show it ; 
 
 That I co'd ne'r be Prince of Love, 
 Though here the princely poet. 
 
 How Primroses came green. ^. 
 
 VIRGINS, time-past, known were these. 
 Troubled with green-sicknesses, 
 Turn'd to flowers : stil the hieu. 
 Sickly girles, they beare of you.
 
 66 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To Jos : Lo : Bishop of Exeter. 
 
 "X 1[ THOM she'd I feare to write to, if I can 
 
 * * Stand before you, my learn'd diocesan ? 
 And never shew blood-guiltinesse, or feare 
 To see my lines excathedrated here. 
 Since none so good are, but you may condemne ; 
 Or here so bad, but you may pardon them. 
 If then, my lord, to sanctifie my muse 
 One onely poem out of all you'l chuse ; 
 And mark it for a rapture nobly writ, 
 'Tis good confirm'd ; for you have bishop't it. 
 
 Upon a black Twist, bounding the Arme of 
 
 THE COUNTESSE OF CaRLILE. 
 
 I SAW about her spotlesse wrist, 
 Of blackest silk, a curious twist ; 
 Which, circumvolving gently, there 
 Enthrall'd her arme, as prisoner. 
 Dark was the jayle ; but as if light 
 Had met t'engender with the night ; 
 Or so, as darknesse made a stay 
 To shew at once, both night and day. 
 I fancie more ! but if there be 
 Such freedome in captivity ; 
 I beg of Love, that never I ' 
 May in like chains of darknesse lie. 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 T FEARE no earthly powers ; 
 -»• But care for crowns of flowers : 
 And love to have mv beard 
 With wine and oile besmear'd. 
 This day lie drowne all sorrow ; 
 "\^'ho knowes to live to morrow ?
 
 HESPERIDES. 67 
 
 Upon Pagget. 
 
 PAGGET, a school-boy, got a sword, and then 
 He vow'd destruction both to birch, and men : 
 Who wo"d not think this yonker fierce to fight ? 
 Yet comming home, but somewhat late, last night ; 
 Untrusse, his master bade him ; and that word 
 Iklade him take up his shirt, lay down his sword. 
 
 A Ring presented to Julia. 
 
 J 
 
 ULIA, I bring 
 To thee this ring, 
 Made for thy finger fit ; 
 To shew by this, 
 That our love is 
 Or sho'd be, like to it. 
 
 Close though it be. 
 
 The joynt is free : 
 So when Love's yoke is on. 
 
 It must not gall, 
 
 Or fret at all 
 "With hard oppression. 
 
 But it must play 
 
 Still either way ; 
 And be, too, such a yoke, 
 
 As not too wide, 
 
 To over-slide ; 
 Or be so strait to choak. 
 
 So we, who beare, 
 
 This beame, must reare 
 Our selves to such a height : 
 
 As that the stay 
 
 Of either may 
 Create the burden light.
 
 68 HESPERIDES. 
 
 And as this round 
 
 Is no where found 
 To flaw, or else to sever : 
 
 So let our love 
 
 As endless prove ; 
 And pure as gold for ever. 
 
 To THE DeTRACTER. 
 
 WHERE others love, and praise my verses ; still 
 Thy long-black-thumb-nail marks 'em out 
 for ill : 
 A fellon take it, or some whit-flaw come 
 For to unslate, or to untile that thumb ! 
 But cry thee mercy : exercise thy nailes 
 To scratch or claw, so that thy tongue not railes : 
 Some numbers prurient are, and some of these 
 Are wanton with their itch ; scratch, and 'twill please. 
 
 Upon the same. 
 
 IASK'T thee oft, what poets thou hast read, 
 And lik'st the best ? Still thou reply'st. The dead. 
 I shall, ere long, with green turfs cover'd be ; 
 Then sure thou't like, or thou wilt envie me. 
 
 Julia's Petticoat. 
 
 THY azure robe, I did behold. 
 As ayrie as the leaves of gold ; 
 Which erring here, and wandring there, 
 Pleas'd with transgression ev'ry where : 
 Sometimes 'two'd pant, and sigh, and heave. 
 As If to stir It scarce had leave : 
 But having got it ; thereupon, 
 'Two'd make a brave expansion. 
 And pounc't with stars, It shew'd to me 
 Like a celestiall canopie.
 
 HESPERIDES. 69 
 
 Sometimes 'two'd blaze, and then abate, 
 Like to a flame growne moderate : 
 Sometimes away 'two'd wildly fling ; 
 Then to thy thighs so closely cling, 
 That some conceit did melt me downe, 
 As lovers fall into a swoone : 
 And all confus'd, I there did lie 
 Drown'd in delights ; but co'd not die. 
 That leading cloud, I follow'd still, 
 Hoping t'ave seene of it my fill ; 
 But ah ! I co'd not : sho'd it move 
 To life eternal, I co'd love. 
 
 To MusicK. 
 
 BEGIN to charme, and as thou stroak'st mine eares 
 With thy enchantment, melt me into tears. 
 Then let thy active hand scu'd o're thy lyre : 
 And make my spirits frantick with the fire. 
 That done, sink down into a silv'rie straine ; 
 And make me smooth as balme, and oile againe. 
 
 Distrust. 
 
 TO safe-guard man from wrongs, there nothing 
 must 
 Be truer to him, then a wise distrust. 
 And to thy selfe be best this sentence knowne, 
 Heare all men speak ; but credit few or none. 
 
 Corinna's going a Maying. 
 
 GET up, get up for shame, the blooming morne 
 Upon her wings presents the god unshorne. 
 See how Aurora throwes her faire 
 Fresh-quilted colours through the aire : 
 Get up, sweet-slug-a-bed, and see 
 The dew -bespangling herbe and tree-
 
 70 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Each flower has wept, and bow'd toward the east, 
 Above an houre since ; yet you not drest, 
 
 Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? 
 
 When all the birds have mattens seyd, 
 
 And sung their thankfull hyiunes : 'tis sin, 
 
 Nay, profanation to keep in, 
 When as a thousand virgins on this day. 
 Spring, sooner then the lark, to fetch in May. 
 
 Eise ; and put on your foliage, and be seene 
 To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and 
 greene ; 
 And sweet as Flora. Take no care 
 For jewels for your gowne, or haire : 
 Feare not ; the leaves will strew 
 Gemms in abundance upon you : 
 Besides, the childhood of the day has kept. 
 Against you come, some orient pearls unwept : 
 Come, and receive them while the light 
 Hangs on the dew-locks of the night : 
 And Titan on the eastern hill 
 Retires himselfe, or else stands still 
 Till you come forth. Wash, dresse, be briefe in 
 
 praying : 
 Few beads are best, when once we goe a Maying. 
 
 Come, my Corinna, come ; and comming, marke 
 
 How each field turns a street ; each street a parke 
 Made green, and trimm'd with trees: see how 
 Devotion gives each house a bough. 
 Or branch : each porch, each doore, ere this. 
 An arke a tabernacle is 
 
 Made up of white-thorn neatly enterwove ; 
 
 As if here were those cooler shades of love. 
 Can such delights be in the street, 
 And open fields, and we not see't ? 
 Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obay 
 The proclamation made for May :
 
 HESPERIDES. 71 
 
 And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ; 
 But, my Corinna, come, let's goe a Maying. 
 
 There's not a budding boy, or girle, this day. 
 But is got up, and gone to bring in May. 
 A deale of youth, ere this, is come 
 Back, and with White-thorn laden home. 
 Some ha?e dispatcht their cakes and creame, 
 Before that we have left to dreame : 
 And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted troth. 
 And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth : 
 Many a green-gown has been given ; 
 Many a kisse, both odde and even : 
 JMany a glance too has been sent 
 From out the eye, love's firmament: 
 Many a jest told of the keyes betraying 
 This night, and locks pickt, yet w'are not a Maying. 
 
 Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime; 
 And take the harmlesse foUie of the time. 
 
 We shall grow old apace, and die 
 
 Before we know our liberty. 
 
 Our life is short ; and our dayes run 
 
 As fast away as do's the sunne : 
 And as a vapour, or a drop of raine 
 Once lost, can ne'r be found againe : 
 
 So when or you or I are made 
 
 A fable, song, or fleeting shade ; 
 
 All love, all liking, all delight 
 
 Lies drown'd with us in endlesse night. 
 Then while time serves, and we are but decaying; 
 Come, my Corinna, come, let's goe a Maying. 
 
 On Julia's Breath. >— ^ 
 
 BKEATIIE, Julia, breathe, and He protest, 
 Nay more, He deeply sweare, 
 That all the spices of the East 
 Are circumfused there.
 
 72 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon a Child. An Efitaph. 
 
 BUT borne, and like a short delight, 
 I glided by my parents sight. 
 That done, the harder fates deny'd 
 My longer stay, and so I dy'd. 
 If pittying my sad parents teares, 
 You'l spil a tear, or two with theirs : 
 And with some flowrs my grave bestrew, 
 Love and they'l thank you for't. Adieu. 
 
 A Dialogue betwixt Horace and Ltdia 
 Tbanslated anno 1627, and set 
 BY Mb. Ro : Ramsey. 
 
 Hor. "\ 1 THILE, Lydia, I was lov'd of thee, 
 * * Nor any was preferr'd 'fore me 
 To hug thy whitest neck : then I, 
 The Persian King llv'd not more happily. 
 
 Lyd. While thou no other didst affect. 
 Nor Cloe was of more respect ; 
 Then Lydia, far-fam'd Lydia, 
 I flourish't more then Roman Ilia. 
 
 Hor. Now Thracian Cloe governs me, 
 SkilfuU i' th' harpe, and melodie : 
 For whose aifection, Lydia, I, 
 So Fate spares her, am well content to die. 
 
 Lyd. My heart now set on fire is 
 
 By Ornithes sonne, young Calais ; 
 For whose oommutuall flames here I, 
 To save his life, twice am content to die. 
 
 Hor. Say our first loves we sho'd revoke. 
 And sever'd joyne in brazen yoke : 
 Admit I Cloe put away. 
 And love againe love-cast-ofF Lydia?
 
 HESPERIDES. 73 
 
 Lyd. Though mine be brighter then the star ; 
 Thou lighter then the cork by far : 
 Rough as th' Adratick sea, yet I 
 Will live with thee, or else for thee will die. 
 
 The captiv'd Bee : or. The little Filchee. 
 
 AS Julia once a slumb'ring lay, 
 It chanc't a bee did flie that way, 
 After a dew, or dew-like shower. 
 To tipple freely in a llower. 
 Por some rich flower, he took the lip 
 Of Julia, and began to sip ; 
 But when he felt he suckt from thence 
 Hony, and in the quintessence : 
 He drank so much he scarce co'd stir ; 
 So Julia took the pilferer. 
 And thus surpriz'd, as filchers use, 
 He thus began himselfe t'excuse : 
 Sweet lady-flower, I never brought 
 Hither the least one theeving thought : 
 But taking those rare lips of yours 
 For some fresh, fragrant, luscious flowers ; 
 I thouirht I might there take a taste. 
 Where so much sirrop ran at waste. 
 Besides, know this, I never sting 
 The flower that gives me nourishing : 
 But with a kisse, or thanks, doe pay 
 For honie, that I beare away. 
 This said, he laid his little scrip 
 Of hony, 'fore her ladiship : 
 And told her, as some tears did fall. 
 That, that he took, and that was all. 
 At which she smil'd ; and bade him goe 
 And take his bag ; but thus much know, 
 When next he came a pilfring so. 
 He sho'd from her full lips derive, 
 Hony enough to fill his hive.
 
 74 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Prig. 
 
 PRIG now drinks water, who before drank beere : 
 What's now the cause ? we know the case is 
 cleere : 
 Look in Prig's purse, the chev'rell there tells you 
 Prig mony wants, either to buy, or brew. 
 
 Upon Batt. 
 
 BATT he gets children, not for love to reare 'em ; 
 But out of hope his wife might die to beare 'em. 
 
 An Ode to Master Endtmion Porter, 
 UPON HIS Brother's Death. 
 
 NOT all thy flushing sunnes are set, 
 Herrick, as yet : 
 K'or doth this far-drawn hemisphere 
 Frown, and look sullen ev'ry where. 
 Dales may conclude in nights ; and suns may rest, 
 
 As dead, within the west ; 
 Yet the next morne, re-guild the fragrant east. 
 
 Alas for me ! that I have lost 
 
 E'en all almost : 
 Sunk is my sight ; set is my sun ; 
 And all the loome of life undone : 
 The stafFe, the elme, the prop, the shelt'ring wall. 
 
 Whereon my vine did crawle. 
 Now, now, blowne downe ; needs must the old stock 
 fall. 
 
 Yet, Porter, while thovi keep'st alive, 
 
 In death I thrive : 
 And like a Phenix re-aspire 
 From out my narde, and fun'rall fire :
 
 HESPERIDES. 75 
 
 And as I prune my featlier'd youth, so I 
 
 Doe mar'l how I co'd die, 
 When I had thee, my chiefe preserver, by. 
 
 I'm up, I'm up, and blesse that hand, 
 
 Which makes me stand 
 Now as I doe ; and but for thee, 
 I must confesse, I co'd not be. 
 The debt is paid : for he who doth resigne 
 
 Thanks to tlie gen'rous vine ; 
 Invites fresh grapes to fill his presse with wine. 
 
 To HIS DYING Brother, Master 
 William Herrick. 
 
 LIFE of my life, take not so soone thy flight. 
 But stay the time till we have bade Good night. 
 Thou hast both wind and tide with thee ; thy way 
 As soone dispatcht is by the night, as day. 
 Let us not then so rudely henceforth goe 
 Till we have wept, kist, sigh't, shook hands, or so. 
 There's paine in parting ; and a kind of hell. 
 When once true-lovers take their last fare-well. 
 What ? shall we two our endlesse leaves take here 
 Without a sad looke, or a solemne teare ? 
 He knowes not love, that hath not this truth proved, 
 Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved. 
 Pay we our vowes, and goe ; yet when we part. 
 Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart 
 Into thy loving hands : for lie keep none 
 To warme my breast, when thou my pulse art gone. 
 No, here He last, and walk, a harndess shade. 
 About this urne, wherein thy dust is laid, 
 To guard it so, as nothing here shall be 
 Heavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee.
 
 76 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Olive Branch. 
 
 SADLY I walk't within the field, 
 To see what comfort it wo'd yeeld : 
 And as I went my private way, 
 An olive-branch before me lay : 
 And seeing it, I made a stay. 
 And took it up, and view'd it ; then 
 Kissing the omen, said Amen : 
 Be, be it so, and let this be 
 A divination unto me : 
 That in short time my woes shall cease ; 
 And love shall crown my end with peace. 
 
 Upon Much-more. Epig. 
 
 MUCH-MOKE provides, and hoords up like an 
 ant; 
 Yet Much-more still complains he is in want. 
 Let Much-more jvistly pay his tythes ; then try 
 How both his meale and oile will multiply. 
 
 To Cherrt-blossomes. 
 
 YE may simper, blush, and smile, 
 And perfume the aire a while : 
 But, sweet things, ye must be gone ; 
 Fruit, ye know, is comming on : 
 Then, ah ! then, where is your grace, 
 When as cherries come in place ? 
 
 How Lillies came white. 
 
 WHITE though ye be ; yet, lillies, know, 
 From the first ye were not so : 
 But He tell ye 
 What befell ye , 
 Cupid and his mother lay 
 In a cloud ; while both did play.
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 He ■with bis pretty finger prest 
 The rubie iiiplet of her breast; 
 Out of the which, the creame of light, 
 
 Like to a clew. 
 
 Fell downe on you, 
 And made ye white. 
 
 To Pansies. 
 
 A H, cruell Love ! must I endure 
 -^^^ Thy many scorns, and find no cure ? 
 Say, are thy medicines made to be 
 Helps to all others, but to me ? 
 He leave thee, and to pansies come ; 
 Comforts you'l afford me some : 
 You can ease my heart, and doe 
 What Love co'd ne'r be brought unto. 
 
 On Gelli-flowers begotten. 
 
 ^■^ /"HAT was't that fell but now 
 
 ♦ * From that warme kisse of ours? 
 Look, look, by Love I vow 
 They were two Gelli-flowers. 
 
 Let's kisse, and kisse agen ; 
 
 For if so be 'our closes 
 Make Gelli-flowers, then 
 
 I'm sure they'l fashion roses. 
 
 The Lilly in a Chkistal. 
 
 "V/^OU have beheld a smiling rose 
 -»- When virgins hands have drawn 
 O'r it a cobweb lawne : 
 And here, you see, this lilly shows,
 
 78 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Tomb'd in a christal stone, 
 More faire in this transparent case, 
 Then when it grew alone ; 
 And had but single grace. 
 
 You see how creame but naked is ; 
 Nor daunces in the eye 
 AVithout a strawberrie : 
 
 Or some fine tincture, like to this. 
 
 Which draws the sight thereto, 
 
 More by that wantoning with it ; 
 Then when the paler hieu 
 No mixture did admit. 
 
 You see how amber through the streams 
 More gently stroaks the sight, 
 With some conceal'd delight ; 
 
 Then when he darts his radiant beams 
 Into the boundlesse aii'e : 
 
 Where either too much light his worth 
 Doth all at once impaire, 
 Or set it little forth. 
 
 Put purple grapes, or cherries in- 
 
 To giasse, and they will send 
 More beauty to commend 
 
 Them, from that cleane and subtile skin. 
 Then if they naked stood, 
 
 And had no other pride at all, 
 
 But their own flesh and blood. 
 And tinctures naturall. 
 
 Thus lillie, rose, grape, cherry, creame, 
 And straw-berry do stir 
 More love, when they transfer 
 
 A weak, a soft, a broken beame ; 
 Then if they sho'd discover 
 
 At full their proper excellence ; 
 
 Without some scean cast over, 
 
 To juggle with the sense.
 
 HESPERIDES. 79 
 
 Thus let this christard lillie be 
 
 A rule, how far to teach, 
 
 Your nakednesse must reach : 
 And that, no further, then we see 
 
 Those glaring colours laid 
 By Arts wise hand, but to this end 
 
 They sho'd obey a shade ; 
 
 Lest they too far extend. 
 
 So though y'are white as swan, or snow, 
 
 And have the power to move 
 
 A world of men to love : 
 Yet, when your lawns & silks shal flow ; 
 
 And that white cloud divide 
 Into a doubtful twi-light ; then. 
 
 Then will your hidden pride 
 
 Raise greater fires in men. 
 
 To HIS BoOKE. 
 
 LIKE to a bride, come forth, my book, at last, 
 AVith all thy richest jewels over-cast : 
 Say, if there be 'mongst many jems here ; one 
 Deservelesse of the name of Paragon : 
 Blush not at all for that ; since we have set 
 Some pearls on queens, that have been counterfet. 
 
 Upon some Women. 
 
 THOU who wilt not love, doe this ; 
 Learne of me what woman is. 
 Something made of tin-ed and thrumme ; 
 A meere botch of all and some. 
 Pieces, patches, ropes of haire ; 
 In-laid garbage ev'ry where. 
 Out-side silk, and out-side lawne ; 
 Sceanes to cheat us neatly drawne.
 
 80 HESPERIDES. 
 
 False in legs, and false in thighes ; 
 False in breast, teeth, haire, and eyes : 
 False in head, and false enough ; 
 Onely true in shreds and stuffe. 
 
 Supreme Fortune falls soonest. 
 
 "\ "^ THILE leanest beasts in pastures feed, 
 * * The fattest oxe the first must bleed. 
 
 The Welcome to Sack. 
 
 SO soft streams meet, so springs with gladder 
 smiles 
 Meet after long divorcement by the iles : 
 When love, the child of likenesse, urgeth on 
 Their christal natures to an union. 
 So meet stolne kisses, when the moonie nights 
 Call forth fierce lovers to their wisht delights ; 
 So kings & queens meet, when desire convinces 
 All thoughts, but such as aime at getting princes, 
 As I meet thee. Soule of my life, and fame ! 
 Eternall lamp of love ! whose radiant flame 
 Out-glares the heav'ns Osiris ; * and thy gleams 
 Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams. 
 Welcome, O welcome my illustrious spouse ; 
 Welcome as are the ends unto my vowes : 
 I ! far more welcome then the happy soile. 
 The sea-scourg'd merchant, after all his toile. 
 Salutes with tears of joy ; when fires betray 
 The smoakie chimneys of his Ithaca. 
 Where hast thou been so long from my embraces, 
 Poore pittyed exile ? Tell me, did thy graces 
 Flie discontented hence, and for a time 
 Did rather choose to blesse another clime ? 
 
 • The Sun.
 
 HESPERIDES. 81 
 
 Or went'st thou to this end, the more to move me, 
 
 By thy short absence, to desire and love thee ? 
 
 Why frowns my sweet ? Why won't my saint confer 
 
 Favours on me, her fierce idolater ? 
 
 Why are those looks, those looks the which have been 
 
 Time-past so fragrant, sickly now drawn in 
 
 Like a dull twi-light ? Tell me ; and the fault 
 
 lie expiate with sulphur, haire, and salt : 
 
 And, with tlie christal humour of the spring, 
 
 Purge hence the guilt, and kill this quarrelling. 
 
 AV'o't thou not smile, or tell me what's araisse ? 
 
 Have I been cold to hug thee, too remisse. 
 
 Too temp'rate in embracing ? Tell me, ha's desire 
 
 To thee-ward dy'd i'th'embers, and no fire 
 
 Left in this rak't-up ash-heafa, as a mark 
 
 To testifie the glowing of a spark ? 
 
 Have I divorc't thee onely to combine 
 
 In hot adult'ry with another wine? 
 
 True, I confesse I left thee, and appeale 
 
 'Twas done by me, more to confirme my zeale, 
 
 And double my aSection on thee ; as doe those, 
 
 AVhose love growes more enflam'd, by being foes. 
 
 IJut to forsake thee ever, co'd there be 
 
 A thought of such like possibilitie ? 
 
 AVhen thou thy selfe dar'st say, thy iles sliall lack 
 
 Grapes, before Herrick leaves canarie sack. 
 
 Thou mak'st me ayrie, active to be born. 
 
 Like Iphyclus, upon the tops of corn. 
 
 Thou mak'st me nimble, as the winged howers, 
 
 To dance and caper on the heads of flowers, 
 
 And ride the sun-beams. Can there be a thing 
 
 Under the heavenly Isis,* that can bring 
 
 More love unto my life, or can present 
 
 .My genius with a fuller blandishment ? 
 
 Illustrious idoll ! co'd th' Egyptians seek 
 
 I lelp from the garlick, onyon, and the leek, 
 
 * The Moon. 
 G
 
 82 ■ HESPERIDES. 
 
 And pay no vowes to thee ? who wast their best 
 
 God, and far more transcendent then the rest ? 
 
 Had Cassius, that weak water-drinker, known 
 
 Thee in thy vine, or had but tasted one 
 
 Small chalice of thy frantick liquor ; he 
 
 As the wise Cato had approv'd of thee. 
 
 Had not Joves* son, that brave Tyrinthian swain, 
 
 (Invited to the Thesbian banquet) ta'ne 
 
 Full goblets of thy gen'rous blood ; his spright 
 
 Ne'r had kept heat for fifty maids that night. 
 
 Come, come and kisse me ; love and lust commends 
 
 Thee, and thy beauties ; kisse, we will be friends 
 
 Too strong for fate to break us : look upon 
 
 Me, with that full pride of complexion. 
 
 As queenes meet queenes ; or come thou unto me, 
 
 As Cleopatra came to Anthonie ; 
 
 When her high carriage did at once present 
 
 To the Triumvir, love and wonderment. 
 
 Swell up my nerves with spirit ; let my blood 
 
 Kun through my veines, like to a hasty flood. 
 
 Fill each part full of fire, active to doe 
 
 "What thy commanding soule shall put it to. 
 
 And till I turne apostate to thy love, 
 
 Which here I vow to serve, doe not remove 
 
 Thy fiers from me ; but Apollo's curse 
 
 Blast these-like actions, or a thing that's worse ; 
 
 When these circumstants shall but live to see 
 
 The time that I prevaricate from thee. 
 
 Call me the sonne of beere, and then confine 
 
 Me to the tap, the tost, the turfe ; let wine 
 
 Ne'r shine upon me ; may my numbers all 
 
 Run to a sudden death, and funerall. 
 
 And last, when thee, deare spouse, I disavow, 
 
 Ne'r may prophetique Daphne crown my brow. 
 
 * Hercules.
 
 HESPERIDES. 83 
 
 Impossibilities to his Friend. 
 
 MY faithful friend, if you can see 
 The fruit to grow up, or the tree : 
 If you can see the colour come 
 nto the blushing peare, or plum ; 
 If you can see the water grow 
 To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow : 
 If you can see, that drop of raine 
 Lost in the wild sea, once againe : 
 If you can see, how dreams do creep 
 Into the brain by easie sleep : 
 Then there is hope that you may see 
 Her love me once, who now hates me. 
 
 Upon Luggs. Epig. 
 
 LUGGS, by the condemnation of the Bench, 
 Was lately whipt for lying with a wench. 
 Thus paines and pleasures turne by turne succeed : 
 He smarts at last, who do's not first take heed. 
 
 Upon Gubbs. Epig. 
 
 C"*UBBS calls his children kitlings : and wo'd bound 
 -* (Some say) for joy, to see those kitlings drown'd. 
 
 to live merrily, and to trust to 
 Good Verses. 
 
 NOW is the tnne for mirth, 
 Nor cheek, or tongue be dumbe : 
 For with the flowrie earth, 
 The golden pomp is come. 
 
 The golden pomp is come ; 
 
 For now each tree do's weare, 
 Made of her pap and gum. 
 
 Rich beads of amber here.
 
 84 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Now raignes the rose, and now 
 Th' Arabian dew besmears 
 
 My uncontrolled brow, 
 And my retorted haires. 
 
 Homer, this health to thee, 
 In sack of such a kind, 
 
 That it wo'd make thee see. 
 
 Though thou wert ne'r so blind. 
 
 Next, Virgil, He call forth, 
 To pledge this second health 
 
 In wine, whose each cup's worth 
 An Indian common-wealth. 
 
 A goblet next lie drink 
 To Ovid ; and suppose. 
 
 Made he the pledge, he'd think 
 The world had all one nose. 
 
 Then this immensive cup 
 
 Of aromatike wine, 
 Catullus, I quaffe up 
 
 To that terce muse of thine. 
 
 Wild T am now with heat ; 
 
 O Bacchus ! coule thy raies ! 
 Or frantick I shall eate 
 
 Thy thyrse, and bite the bayes. 
 
 Round, round, the roof do's run ; 
 
 And being ravisht thus, 
 Come, I will drink a tun 
 
 To my Propertius. 
 
 Now, to Tibullus, next, 
 
 This flood I drink to thee : 
 
 But stay ; I see a text. 
 That this presents to me.
 
 HESPERIDES. 85 
 
 Behold, Tibullus lies 
 
 Here burnt, whose sraal return 
 Of ashes, scarce suffice 
 
 To fill a little urne. 
 
 Trust to good verses then ; 
 
 They onely will aspire, 
 When pyramids, as men, 
 
 Are lost, i'th'funerall fire. 
 
 And when all bodies meet 
 
 In Lethe to be drown'd ; 
 Then onely numbei's sweet, 
 
 With endless life are crown'd. 
 
 Faire Dates: or, Dawnes deceitfuli.. 
 
 FAIRE was the dawne ; and but e'ne now the skies 
 Shew'd like to creame, enspir'd with straw- 
 berries : 
 But on a sudden, all was chang'd and gone 
 That smil'd in that first-sweet complexion. 
 Then thunder-claps and lightning did conspire 
 To teare the world, or set it all on fire. 
 What trust to things, below when as we see, 
 As men, the heavens have their hypocrisie ? 
 
 Lips Tonguelesse. 
 
 FOR my part, I never care 
 For those lips, that tongue-ty'd are : 
 Tell-tales I wo'd have them be 
 Of my mistresse, and of me. 
 Let them prattle how that I 
 Sometimes freeze, and sometimes frie : 
 Let them tell how she doth move 
 Fore or backward in her love : 
 Let them speak by gentle tones, 
 One and th'other's passions:
 
 86 HESPERIDES. 
 
 How we watch, and seldome sleep ; 
 How by willowes we doe weep : 
 How by stealth we meet, and then 
 Kisse, and sigh, so part agen. 
 This the lips we will permit 
 For to tell, nor publish it. 
 
 To THE FeVEB, not TO TROUBLE JuLIA. 
 
 TH'AST dar'd too farre ; but, Furie, now forbeare 
 To give the least disturbance to her haire : 
 But lesse presume to lay a plait upon 
 Her skins most smooth, and cleare expansion. 
 'Tis like a lawnie-firmament as yet 
 Quite dispossest of either fray, or fret. 
 Come thou not neere that filmne so finely spred, 
 Where no one piece is yet unlevelled. 
 This if thou dost, woe to thee Furie, woe, 
 He send such frost, such haile, such sleet, and snow, 
 Such flesh-quakes, palsies, and such feares as shall 
 Dead thee to th' most, if not destroy thee all. 
 And thou a thousand thousand times shalt be 
 More shak't thy selfe, then she is scorch't by thee. 
 
 To Violets. 
 
 WELCOME, maids of honour, 
 You doe bring 
 In the spring ; 
 And wait upon her. 
 
 She has virgins many, 
 
 Fresh and faire ; 
 
 Yet you are 
 More sweet then any. 
 
 Y'are the maiden posies, J 
 
 And so grac't, 
 
 To be plac't, 
 'Fore damask roses.
 
 HESPERIDES. 87 
 
 Yet though thus respected, 
 
 By and by 
 
 Ye doe lie, 
 Poore girles, neglected. 
 
 Upon Bunce. Epig. 
 
 MONY thou ow'st me ; prethee fix a day 
 For payment proinis'd, though thou never pay : 
 Let It be doomes-day ; nay, take longer scope ; 
 Pay when th'art honest ; let me have some hope. 
 
 To Carnations. A Song. 
 
 STAY while ye will, or goe ; 
 And leave no scent behind ye : 
 Yet trust me, I shall know 
 
 The place, where I may find ye : 
 
 Within my Lucia's cheek, 
 
 Whose livery ye weare. 
 Play ye at hide or seek, 
 
 Pm sure to find ye there. 
 
 To THE Virgins, to make much of Time. 
 
 GATHER ye rose-buds while ye may, 
 Old Time is still a flying : 
 And this same flower that smiles to day, 
 To morrow will be dying. 
 
 The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun, 
 
 The higher he's a getting ; 
 The sooner will his race be run. 
 
 And neerer he's to setting. 
 
 That age is best, which is the first, 
 AVhen youth and blood are warmer ; 
 
 But being spent, the worse, and worst 
 Times, still succeed the former.
 
 88 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Then be not coy, but use your time ; 
 
 And while ye may, goe marry : 
 For having lost but once your prime, 
 
 You may for ever tarry. 
 
 Safety to look to one's selfe. 
 
 FOR my neighbour He not know, 
 Whether high he builds or no : 
 Onely this He look upon, 
 Firm be my foundation. 
 Sound, or unsound, let it be ; 
 'Tis the lot ordain'd for me. 
 He who to the ground do's fall, 
 Has not whence to sink at all. 
 
 To HIS Friend, on the untuneable Times. 
 
 PLAY I co'd once; but, gentle friend, you see 
 My harp hung up, here on the willow tree. 
 Sing I co'd once ; and bravely too enspire. 
 With luscious numbers, my melodious lyre. 
 Draw I co'd once, although not stocks or stones, 
 Amphion-like, men made of flesh and bones. 
 Whether I wo'd; but, ah! I know not how, 
 I feele in me, this transmutation now. 
 Griefe, my deare friend, has first my harp unstrung ; 
 Wither'd my hand, and palsie-struck my tongue. 
 
 His Poetrie his Pillar. 
 
 ONELY a little more 
 I have to write. 
 Then He give o're, 
 And bid the world good-night. 
 
 'Tis but a flying minute, 
 
 That I must stay. 
 
 Or linger in it ; 
 And then I must away.
 
 HESPERIDES. 89 
 
 O Time that ciit'st down all ! 
 
 And scarce leav'st here 
 
 Memoriall 
 Of any men that were. 
 
 How many lye forgot 
 
 In vaults beneath ? 
 
 And piece-meale rot 
 Without a fame in death ? 
 
 Behold this living stone, 
 
 I reare for nie, 
 
 Ne'r to be thrown 
 Downe, envious Time, by thee. 
 
 Pillars let some set up, 
 
 If so they please, 
 
 Here is my hope, 
 And my pyramides. 
 
 Safety on the Shore. 
 
 WHAT though the sea be calme ? Trust to the 
 shore : 
 Ships have been drown'd, where late they danc't 
 before. 
 
 A Pastoraxl upon the Birth of Prince Charles, 
 
 presented to the king, and set by 
 
 Mr. Nic : Laniere. 
 
 The Speakers, Mirtillo, Amintas, and Amarlllis. 
 
 Amin. 
 
 GOOD day, IMirtillo. Mirt. And to you no lesse : 
 And all faire signs lead on our shepardesse. 
 Amar. With all white luck to you. Mb-t. But say, 
 what news 
 Stirs in our sheep-walk? Amiiu None, save that 
 my ewes.
 
 90 HESPERIDES. 
 
 My weathers, lambes, and wanton kids are well, 
 
 Smooth, fau-e, and fat ; none better I can tell : 
 
 Or that this day Menalchas keeps a feast 
 
 For his sheep-shearers. Mir. True, these are the least. 
 
 But, dear Aniintas, and, sweet Amarillis, 
 
 Rest but a while here, by this bank of lillies. 
 
 And lend a gentle eare to one report 
 
 The country has. Amijit. From whence ? Amar. 
 
 From whence ? Mir. The court. 
 Three dayes before the shutting in of May, 
 (With whitest wool be ever crown'd that day !) 
 To all our joy, a sweet-fac't child was borne. 
 More tender then the childhood of the morne. 
 
 Chor. Pan pipe to him, and bleats of lambs and sheep, 
 Let lullaby the pretty prince asleep ! 
 
 Mirt. And that his birth sho'd be more singular, 
 At noone of day, was seene a silver star. 
 Bright as the wise-men's torch, which guided them 
 To God's sweet babe, when borne at Bethlehem ; 
 While golden angels (some have told to me) 
 Sung out his birth with heav'nly minstralsie. 
 
 Amint. O rare ! But is't a trespasse if we three 
 Sho'd wend along his baby-ship to see ? 
 
 Mir. Not so, not so. Chor. But if it chance to prove 
 At most a fault, 'tis but a fault of love. 
 
 Amur. But, deare Mirtillo, I have heard it told, 
 Those learnedmen brought incense, myrrhe, and gold, 
 From countries far, with store of spices, sweet, 
 And laid them downe for offrings at his feet. 
 
 Mirt. 'Tis true indeed ; and each of us will bring 
 Unto our smiling, and our blooming king, 
 A neat, thouixh not so great an offering. 
 
 Amar. A garland for my gift shall be 
 Of flowers, ne'r suckt by th'theeving bee : 
 And all most sweet ; yet all lesse sweet then he. 
 
 Amint. And I will beare along with you 
 Leaves dropping downe the honyed dew, 
 With oaten pipes, as sweet, as new.
 
 HESPERIDES. ■ 91 
 
 3Ih-t. And I a sheep-hook will bestow, 
 To have his little king-.ship know, 
 As he is prince, he's shepherd too. 
 
 Chor. Come let's away, and quickly let's be drest, 
 And quickly give. The swiftest grace is best. 
 And when before him we have laid our treasures, 
 We'll blesse the babe, then back to countrie pleasures. 
 
 To THE Lark. 
 
 GOOD speed, for I this day 
 Betimes my mattens say : 
 
 Because I doe 
 
 Begin to wooe : 
 
 Sweet sinjjinn; lark. 
 
 Be thou the dark. 
 
 And know thy when 
 
 To say. Amen. 
 
 And if I prove 
 
 Blest in my love ; 
 
 Then thou shalt be 
 
 High-priest to me, 
 
 At my returne, 
 
 To incense burne ; 
 And so to solemnize 
 Love's, and my sacrifice. 
 
 The Bubble. A Song. 
 
 nnO my revenge, and to her desp'rate feares, 
 
 -*- Flie, thou made bubble of my sighs and tears. 
 In the wild aire, when thou hast rowl'd about, 
 And, like a blasting planet, found her out ; 
 Stoop, mount, passe by to take her eye, then glare 
 Like to a dreadfuU comet in the aire : 
 Next, when thou dost perceive her fixed sight. 
 For thy revenge to be most opposite ; 
 Then like a globe, or ball of wild-fire, flie, 
 And break thy self in shivers on hei- eye.
 
 fC 
 
 92 HESPERIDES. 
 
 A Meditation for his Mistresse. 
 
 YOU are a tulip seen to day, 
 But, dearest, of so short a stay ; 
 That where you grew, scarce man can say. 
 
 You are a lovely July-flower, 
 
 Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower, 
 
 Will force you hence, and in an houre. 
 
 You are a sparkling rose i'th'bud, 
 Yet lost, ere that chast flesh and blood 
 Can shew where you or grew, or stood. 
 
 You are a full-spread faire-set vine. 
 And can with tendrills love intwine. 
 Yet dry'd, ere you distill your wine. 
 
 You are like balme inclosed, well. 
 In amber, or some chrystall shell. 
 Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell. 
 
 You are a dainty violet, 
 
 Yet wither'd, ere you can be set 
 
 Within the virgin's coronet. 
 
 You are the queen all flowers among. 
 But die you must, faire maid, ere long, 
 As he, the maker of this song. 
 
 The Bleeding Hand : or. The Sprig of 
 Eglantine given to a Maid. 
 
 FROM this bleeding hand of mine, 
 Take this sprig of eglantine. 
 Which, though sweet unto your smell. 
 Yet the fretful! bryar will tell, 
 He who plucks the sweets shall prove 
 Many thorns to be in love.
 
 HESPERIDES. 9.S 
 
 Ltrick for Legacies. 
 
 GOLD I've none, for use or show, 
 Xeither silver to bestow 
 At my death ; but thus much know, 
 That each lyrick here shall be 
 Of my love a legacie, 
 Left to all posterity. 
 Gentle friends, then doe but please, 
 To accept such coynes as these ; 
 As my last remembrances. 
 
 A Dirge upon the Death of the Right 
 VAiiANT Lord, Bernard Stuart. 
 
 H 
 
 ENCE, hence, pi'ofane ; soft silence let us have . 
 While we this trentall sing about thy grave. 
 
 II. 
 
 Had wolves or tigers seen but thee, 
 They wo'd have shew'd civility ; 
 And, in compassion of thy yeeres, 
 Washt those thy purple wounds with tears. 
 But since th'art slaine ; and in thy fall, 
 The drooping kingdome suffers all. 
 
 Chor. This we will doe ; we'll daily come 
 And offer tears upon thy tomb : 
 And if that they will not suffice, 
 Thou shalt have soules for sacrifice. 
 Sleepe in thy peace, while we with spice perfume thee, 
 And cedar wash thee, that no times consume thee. 
 
 Live, live thou dost, and shalt ; for why ? 
 Soules doe not luith their bodies die : 
 Ignoble off-sprfngs, they may fall 
 Into the flames of funerall :
 
 94 HESPERIDES. 
 
 "When as the chosen seed shall spring 
 Fresh, and for ever flourishing. 
 Cho. And times to come shall, weeping, read thy 
 glory, _ 
 
 Lesse in these marble stones, then m thy 
 story. 
 
 To Perenna, a Mistressb. 
 
 DEARE Perenna, prethee come, 
 And with smallage dresse my tomb : 
 Adde a cypresse-sprig thereto. 
 With a teare ; and so adieu. 
 
 Great Boast, small Eost. 
 
 OF flanks and chines of beefe doth Gorrell boast 
 He has at home ; but who tasts boil'd or rost ? 
 Look in his brine-tub, and you shall find there 
 Two stiffe blew pigs -feet, and a sow's cleft eare. 
 
 Upon a Bleare-ey'd Woman. 
 
 WITHER'D with yeeres, and bed-rid mamma 
 lyes; 
 Dry-rosted all, but raw yet in her eyes. 
 
 The Fairie Temple : or, Oberon's Chappell. 
 
 Dedicated to Mr. John Merrifield, 
 
 Counsellor at Law. 
 
 RARE temples thou hast seen, I know, 
 And rich for in and outward show : 
 Survey this chappell, built, alone. 
 Without or lime, or wood, or stone : 
 Then say, if one th'ast seene more fine 
 Then this, the fairies once, now thine.
 
 HESPERIDES. 95 
 
 The Temple. 
 
 AWAY enchac't with glasse & beads 
 There is, that to the chappel leads : 
 Whose structure, for his holy rest, 
 Is here the halcion's curious nest : 
 Into the which who looks shall see 
 His temple of idolatry : 
 Where he of god-heads has such store, 
 As Rome's Pantheon had not more. 
 His house of Rimmon, this he calls, 
 Girt with small bones, instead of walls. 
 First, in a neech, more black then jet, 
 His idol-cricket there is set : 
 Then in a polisht ovall by 
 There stands his idol-beetle-flie : 
 Next in an arch, akin to this, 
 His idol-canker seated is : 
 Then in a round, is plac't by these,' 
 His golden god, Cantharides. 
 So that where ere ye look, ye see, 
 No capitoll, no cornish free. 
 Or freeze, from this fine fripperie. 
 Now this the fairies wo'd have known. 
 Theirs is a mixt religion. 
 And some have heard the elves it call 
 Part pagan, part papistical!. 
 If unto me all tongues were granted, 
 I co'd not speak the saints here painted. 
 Saint Tit, Saint Nit, Saint Is, Saint Itis, 
 Who 'gainst Mabs-state plac't here right is. 
 Saint ^Vill o'th'wispe, of no great bignes, 
 But alias call'd here fatutis ignis. 
 Saint Frip, Saint Trip, Saint Fill, S. Fillie, 
 Neither those other-saint-ships will I 
 Here goe about for to recite 
 Their number, almoot infinite,
 
 96 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Which one by one here set downe are 
 In this most curious calendar. 
 First, at the entrance of the gate, 
 A little-puppet-priest doth wait, 
 Who squeaks to all the commers there, 
 Favour your tongues, ivho enter here. 
 Pure hands bring hither, without staine. 
 A second pules. Hence, hence, profane. 
 Hard by, i'th'shell of halfe a nut, 
 The holy-water there is put: 
 A little brush of squirrils haires, 
 Compos'd of odde, not even paires. 
 Stands in the platter, or close by. 
 To purge the fairie family. 
 Keere to the altar stands the priest, 
 There off 'ring up the holy-grist : 
 Ducking in mood, and perfect tense, 
 With (much-good-do't him) reverence. 
 The altar is not here foure-square. 
 Nor in a forme triangular ; 
 Nor made of glasse, or wood, or stone, 
 But of a little transverce bone ; 
 Which boyes, and bruekel'd children call 
 (Playing for points and pins) cockall. 
 Whose linnen-drapery is a thin 
 Subtile and ductile codlin's skin ; 
 Which o're the board is smoothly spred. 
 With little seale-work damasked. 
 The frino-e that circumbinds it too. 
 Is spangle-work of trembling dew, 
 Which, gently gleaming, makes a show. 
 Like frost-work glitt'ring on the snow. 
 Upon this fetuous board doth stand 
 Something for shew-bread, and at hand 
 (Just in the middle of the altar) 
 Upon an end, the fairie-psalter, 
 Grac't with the trout-flies curious wings. 
 Which serve for watched ribbanings.
 
 HESPERIDES. 97 
 
 Now, we must know, the elves are led 
 Right by the rubrick, which they read. 
 And if report of them be true, 
 They have their text for what they doe ; 
 I, and their book of Canons too. 
 And, as Sir Thomas Parson tells, 
 They have their book of Articles : 
 And if that fairie knight not lies, 
 They have their book of Homilies : 
 And other Scriptures, that designe 
 A short, but righteous discipline. 
 The bason stands the board upon 
 To take the free-oblation : 
 A little pin-dust ; which they hold 
 More precious, then we prize our gold : 
 Which charity they give to many 
 Poore of the parish, if there's any. 
 Upon the ends of these neat railes 
 Hatcht, with the silver-light of snails, 
 The elves, in formall manner, fix 
 Two pure, and holy candlesticks : 
 In either which a small tall bent 
 Burns for the altar's ornament. 
 For sanctity, they have, to these. 
 Their curious copes and surplices 
 Of cleanest cobweb, hanging by 
 In their religious vesterie. 
 They have their ash-pans, & their brooms 
 To purge the chappel and the rooms : 
 Their many mumbling masse-priests here, 
 And many a dapper chorister. 
 There ush'ring vergers, here likewise. 
 Their canons, and their chaunteries : 
 Of cloyster-monks they have enow, 
 I, and their abby-lubbers too : 
 And if their legend doe not lye. 
 They much affect the papacie : 
 And since the last is dead, there's hope, 
 u
 
 98 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Elve Boniface shall next he pope. 
 
 They have their cups and chalices ; 
 
 Their pardons and indulgences : 
 
 Their beads of nits, bels, books, & wax 
 
 Candles, forsooth, and other knacks : 
 
 Their holy oyle, their fasting-spittles 
 
 Their sacred salt here, not a little. 
 
 Dry chips, old shooes, lags, grease, & bones ; 
 
 Beside their fumigations, 
 
 To drive the devill from the cod-piece 
 
 Of thefryar, of woi-k an odde-piece. 
 
 Many a trifle too, and trinket. 
 
 And for what use, scarce man wo'd think it. 
 
 Next, then, upon the chanters side 
 
 An apples-core is hung up dry'd, 
 
 With ratling kirnils, which is rung 
 
 To call to morn, and even-song. 
 
 The saint, to which the most he prayes 
 
 And offers incense nights and day es, 
 
 The lady of the lobster is, 
 
 Whose foot-pace he doth stroak and kisse ; 
 
 And, humbly, chives of saffron brings, 
 
 For his most cheerfuU offerings. 
 
 When, after these, h'as paid his vows, 
 
 He lowly to the altar bows : 
 
 And then he dons the silk-worms shed, 
 
 Like a Turks turbant on his head, 
 
 And reverently departeth thence, 
 
 Hid in a cloud of frankincense : 
 
 And by the glow-worms light wel guided. 
 
 Goes to the feast that's now provided. 
 
 To MisTEESSE Katherine Bradshaw, the lovely, 
 
 THAT CROWNED HIM WITH LaUREL. 
 
 MY Muse in meads has spent her many houres. 
 Sitting, and sorting severall sorts of flowers. 
 To make for others garlands ; and to set
 
 HESPERIDES. 99 
 
 On many a head here, many a coronet : 
 
 But, amongst all encircled here, not one 
 
 Gave her a day of coronation ; 
 
 Till you, sweet mistresse, came and enterwove 
 
 A laurel fur her, ever young as love, 
 
 You first of all crown'd her ; she must of due, 
 
 Render for that, a crowne of life to you. 
 
 The Plaudite, or End of Life. 
 
 T F after rude and boystrous seas, 
 
 -L My wearyed pinnace here finds ease : 
 
 If so it be I've gain'd the shore 
 
 With safety of a faithful ore : 
 
 If having run my barque on ground, 
 
 Ye see the aged vessell crown'd : 
 
 What's to be done ? but on the sands 
 
 Ye dance, and sing, and now clap hands. 
 
 The first act's doubtfull, but we say, 
 
 It is the last commends the play. 
 
 To THE MOST VERTUOUS MiSTRESSE PoT, WHO ,,, 
 MAKY TIMES ENTERTAINED HIM. 
 
 WHEISr I through all my many poems look, 
 And see your selfe to beautifie my book ; 
 Me thinks that onely lustre doth appeare 
 A light ful-fiUing all the region here. 
 Guild still with flames this firmament, and be 
 A lamp eternall to my poetrie. 
 Which if it now, or shall hereafter shine, 
 'Twas by your splendour, lady, not by mine. 
 The oile was yours ; and that I owe for yet : 
 He payes the haJfe, who do's confesse the debt.
 
 100 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To MUSIQTJE, TO BECALME HIS FevEK. 
 
 CHARM me asleep, and melt me so 
 With thy delicious numbers ; 
 That being ravisht, hence I goe 
 Away in easie slumbers. 
 Ease my sick head, 
 And make my bed. 
 Thou power that canst sever 
 From me this ill : 
 And quickly still : 
 Though thou not kill 
 My fever. 
 
 Thou sweetly canst convert the same 
 
 From a consuming fire, 
 Into a gentle -licking flame, 
 And make it thus expire. 
 Then make me weep 
 My paines asleep ; 
 And give me such reposes. 
 That I, poore I, 
 May think, thereby, 
 I live and die 
 
 'Mongst roses. 
 
 Fall on me like a silent dew. 
 
 Or like those maiden showrs, 
 Which, by the peepe of day, doe strew 
 A baptime o're the flowers. 
 Melt, melt my paines. 
 With thy soft straines ; 
 That having ease me given, 
 With full delight, 
 I leave this light ; 
 And take my flight 
 For heaven.
 
 HESFERIDES. 101 
 
 Upon a Gentlewoman with a sweet Voice. 
 
 OO long you did not sing, or touch your lute, 
 
 "^ We knew 'twas flesh and blood, that there sate 
 
 mute. 
 But when your playing, and your voice came in, 
 'Twas no more you then, but a cherubin. 
 
 Upon Cupid. 
 
 AS lately I a garland bound, 
 'Mongst roses, I there Cupid found : 
 I took him, put him in my cup, 
 And drunk with wine, I drank him up. 
 Hence then it is, that my poore brest 
 Co'd never since find any rest. 
 
 Upon Julia's Breasts. 
 
 DISPLAY thy breasts, my Julia, there let me 
 Behold that circummortall purity : 
 Betweene whose glories, there my lips He lay, 
 Ravisht, in that faire Via Lactea. fY^.\L!^ 
 
 Best to be merrit. 
 
 FOOLES are they, who never know ^ 
 
 How the times away doe goe : 
 But for us, who wisely see 
 Where the bounds of black death be : 
 Let's live merrily, and thus 
 Gratifie the genius. 
 
 e^ 
 
 The Changes. To Corinna. 
 
 BE not proud, but now encline 
 Your soft eare to discipline. 
 You have changes in your life. 
 Sometimes peace, and sometimes strife :
 
 102 HESPERIDES. 
 
 You have ebbes of face and flowes, 
 As your health or comes, or goes ; 
 You have hopes, and doubts, and feares 
 Numberlesse, as are your haires. 
 You have pulses that doe beat 
 High, and passions lesse of heat. 
 You are young, but must be old, 
 And, to these, ye must be told. 
 Time, ere long, will come and plow 
 Loathed furrowes in your brow : 
 And the dimnesse of your eye 
 Will no other thing imply, 
 
 But you must die 
 
 As well as I. 
 
 No Lock against Letcherie. 
 
 BARRE close as you can, and bolt fast too your 
 doore, 
 To keep out the letcher, and keep in the whore : 
 Yet, quickly you'l see by the turne of a pin. 
 The whore to come out, or the letcher come in. 
 
 A 
 
 Neglect. 
 
 RT quickens nature; care will make a face . 
 Neglected beauty perisheth apace. 
 
 Upon Himselfe. 
 
 MOP-EY'D I am, as some have said. 
 Because I've liv'd so long a maid ; 
 But grant that I sho'd wedded be, 
 Sho'd I a jot the better see ? 
 No, I sho'd think, that marriage might. 
 Rather then mend, put out the light.
 
 HESPERIDES. 103 
 
 Upon a Physitian. 
 
 THOU cam'st to cure me, doctor, of my cold, 
 And caught'st thy selfe the more by twenty fold : 
 Prethee goe home ; and for thy credit be 
 First cur'd thy selfe ; then come and cure me. 
 
 Upon Sudds, a Laundresse. 
 
 SUDDS launders bands in pisse; and starches 
 them 
 Both with her husband's, and her own tough fleame. 
 
 To THE EosE. Song. 
 
 GOE, happy rose, and enterwove 
 With other flowers, bind my love. 
 Tell her too, she must not be, 
 Longer flowing, longer free, 
 That so oft has fetter'd me. 
 
 Say, if she's fretfull, I have bands 
 Of pearle, and gold, to bind her hands : 
 Tell her, if she struggle still, 
 I have mirtle rods, at will. 
 For to tame, though not to kill. 
 
 Take thou my blessing, thus, and goe, 
 
 And tell her this, but doe not so, 
 Lest a handsome anger flye. 
 Like a lightning, from her eye, 
 And burn thee up, as well as I. 
 
 Upon Guesse. Epig. 
 
 GUESSE cuts his shooes, and limping, goes about 
 To have men think he's troubled with the gout: 
 But 'tis no gout, beleeve it, but hard beere. 
 Whose acrimonious humour bites him here.
 
 104 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To HIS BOOKE. 
 
 nPHOU art a plant sprung up to wither never, 
 -*- But like a laurell, to grow green for ever. 
 
 M 
 
 Upon a painted Gentlewoman. 
 
 EN say y'are faire ; and faire ye are, 'tis true ; 
 But, hark ! we praise the painter now, not you. 
 
 Upon a crooked Maid. 
 
 CROOKED you are, but that dislikes not me ; 
 So you be straight, where virgins straight 
 sho'd be. 
 
 Draw Gloves. 
 
 A T draw-gloves we'l play, 
 -^^- And prethee, let's lay 
 A wager, and let it be this ; 
 
 Who first to the summe 
 
 Of twenty shall come, 
 Shall have for his winning a kisse. 
 
 To MUSICK, TO BEC'ALME a sweet-sick-touth. 
 
 CHARMS, that call down the moon from out her 
 sphere, 
 On this sick youth work your enchantments here : 
 Bind up his senses with your numbers, so. 
 As to entrance his paine, or cure his woe. 
 Fall gently, gently, and a while him keep 
 Lost in the civill wildernesse of sleeji : 
 That done, then let him, dispossest of paine, 
 Like to a slumbring bride, awake againe.
 
 HESPERIDES. 105 
 
 To THE High and Noble Prince, Geokge, 
 
 Duke, Makquesse, and Earle 
 
 OF Buckingham. 
 
 NEVER my book's perfection did appeare, 
 Til I had got the name of Villars here. 
 Now 'tis so full, that when therein I look, 
 I see a cloud of glory fills my book. 
 Here stand it stil to dignifie our muse, 
 Your sober hand-maid ; who doth wisely chuse, 
 Your name to be a laureat-wreathe to hir, 
 Who doth both love and feare you, Honour'd sir. 
 
 His Recantation. 
 
 L' 
 
 OVE, I recant. 
 And pardon crave, 
 That lately I offended. 
 But 'twas, 
 Alas, 
 To make a brave, 
 But no disdaine intended. 
 
 No more He vaunt, 
 For now I see. 
 Thou onely hast the power. 
 To find. 
 And bind 
 A heart that's free. 
 And slave it in an houre. 
 
 The Comming of Good Luck. 
 
 SO Good-luck came, and on ray roofe did light. 
 Like noyse-lesse snow ; or as the dew of night 
 Not all at once, but gently, as the trees 
 Are, by the sun-beams, tickel'd by degrees.
 
 106 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Present : or, The Bag of the Bee. 
 
 FLY to my mistresse, pretty pilfring bee, 
 And say, thou bring'st this hony-bag from me : 
 When on her lip, thou hast thy sweet dew plac't, 
 Mark, if her tongue, but slily, steale a taste. 
 If so, we live ; if not, with mournful! humme, 
 Tole forth my death ; next, to my buryall come. 
 
 On Love. 
 
 LOVE bade me aske a gift, 
 And I no more did move, 
 But this, that I might shift 
 
 Still with my clothes, my love : 
 That favour granted was ; 
 
 Since which, though I love many, 
 Yet so it comes to passe. 
 That long I love not any. 
 
 The Hock-cart, or Harvest Home: 
 
 To the Right Honourable, Mildmay, Earle of 
 Westmo7'land. 
 
 COME, sons of summer, by whose toile, 
 We are the lords of wine and oile : 
 By whose tough labours, and rough hands. 
 We rip up first, then reap our lands. 
 Crown'd with the eares of corne, now come. 
 And, to the pipe, sing hai'vest home. 
 Come forth, my lord, and see the cart 
 Drest up with all the country art. 
 See, here a maukin, there a sheet. 
 As spotlesse pure, as it is sweet : 
 The horses, mares, and frisking fillies. 
 Clad, all, in linnen, white as lillies. 
 The harvest swaines, and wenches bound
 
 HESPERIDES. 107 
 
 For joy, to see the hock-cart crown'd. 
 
 About the cart, heare, how the rout 
 
 Of rurall younglings raise the shout ; 
 
 Pressing before, some coming after, 
 
 Those with a shout, and these with hiughter. 
 
 Some blesse the cart ; some kisse the sheaves ; 
 
 Some prank them up with oaken leaves : 
 
 Some crosse the fill-horse ; some with great 
 
 Devotion, stroak the home-borne wheat : 
 
 While other rusticks, lesse attent 
 
 To prayers, then to merryment. 
 
 Run after with their breeches rent. 
 
 Well, on, brave boyes, to your lord's hearth, 
 
 Glitt'ring with fire ; where, for your mirth. 
 
 Ye shall see first the large and cheefe 
 
 Foundation of your feast, f\xt beefe : 
 
 With upper stories, mutton, veale 
 
 And bacon, which makes full the meale. 
 
 With sev'rall dishes standing by. 
 
 As here a custard, there a pie. 
 
 And here all tempting fruraentie. 
 
 And for to make the merry cheere. 
 
 If smirking wine be wanting here. 
 
 There's that, wliich drowns all care, stout beere; 
 
 Which freely drink to your lord's health, 
 
 Then to the plough, the common-wealth ; 
 
 Next to your flailes, your fanes, your fatts ; 
 
 Then to the maids with wheaten hats : 
 
 To the rough sickle, and crookt sythe. 
 
 Drink, frollick, boyes, till all bo blythe. 
 
 Feed, and grow fat ; and as ye eat. 
 
 Be mindful!, that the lab'ring neat, 
 
 As you, may have their fill of meat. 
 
 And know, besides, ye must revoke 
 
 The patient oxe unto the yoke. 
 
 And all goe back unto the plough 
 
 And harrow, though they'r hang'd up now. 
 
 And, you must know, your lord's word's true.
 
 108 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Feed him ye must, whose food fils you. 
 And that this pleasure is like raine, 
 Not sent ye for to drowne your paine, 
 But for to make it spring againe. 
 
 The Perfume. 
 
 '"PO-MOIiROW, 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. 
 
 Upon her Voice. 
 
 LET but thy voice engender with the string. 
 And angels will be borne, while thou dost sing. 
 
 Not to love. 
 
 HE that will not love, must be 
 My scholar, and learn this of me : 
 There be in love as many feares, 
 As the summer's corne has eares : 
 Sighs, and sobs, and sorrowes more 
 Then the sand, that makes the shore : 
 Freezing cold, and firie heats. 
 Fainting swoones, and deadly sweats ; 
 Now an ague, then a fever, 
 Both tormenting lovers ever. 
 Wod'st thou know, besides all these, 
 How hard a woman 'tis to please ? 
 How crosse, how sullen, and how soone 
 She shifts and changes like the moone. 
 How false, how hollow she's in heart ; 
 And how she is her owne least part : 
 How high she's priz'd, and worth but small ; 
 Little thou't love, or not at all.
 
 HESPERIDES. 109 
 
 To MusicK. A Song. 
 
 MUSICK, thou Queen of Heaven, care-charming 
 spel, 
 That strik'st a stilnesse into hell : 
 Thou that tam'st tjgers, and fierce storms, that rise, 
 
 With thy soule-melting lullabies : 
 Fall down, down, down, from those thy chiming 
 
 spheres. 
 To charme our soules, as thou enchant'st our eares. 
 
 To THE Western Wind. 
 
 SWEET western wind, whose luck it is, 
 Made rivall with the aire, 
 To give Perenna's lip a kisse. 
 And fan her wanton haire. 
 
 Bring me but one. He promise thee. 
 
 Instead of common showers, 
 Thy wings shall be embalm'd by me. 
 
 And all beset with flowers. 
 
 Upon the Death of his Sparrow. An Ei.egie. 
 
 WHY doe not all fresh maids appeare 
 To work love's sampler onely here, 
 Where spring-time smiles throughout the yeare ? 
 Are not here rose-buds, pinks, all flowers, 
 Nature begets by th' sun and showers. 
 Met in one hearce-cloth, to ore-spred 
 The body of the under-dead ? 
 Phill, the late dead, the late dead deare, 
 O ! may no eye distill a teare 
 For you once lost, who weep not here ! 
 Had Lesbia, too-too-kind, but known 
 This sparrow, she had scorn'd hor own : 
 And for this dead which under-lies. 
 Wept out her heart, as well as eyes.
 
 no HESPERIDES. 
 
 But endlesse Peace, sit here, and keep 
 My Phill, the time he has to sleep. 
 And thousand virgins come and weep, 
 To make these flowrie carpets show 
 Fresh, as their blood ; and ever grow, 
 Till passengers shall spend their doome, 
 Not Virgil's gnat had such a tomb. 
 
 To Primroses fill'd with Morning-Dew. 
 
 WHY doe ye weep, sweet babes ? can tears 
 Speak griefe in you. 
 Who were but borne 
 Just as the modest morne 
 Teem'd her refreshing dew ? 
 Alas, you have not known that shower, 
 That marres a flower ; 
 Nor felt th'unkind 
 Breath of a blasting wind ; 
 Nor are ye worne with yeares ; 
 
 Or warpt, as we. 
 Who think it strange to see, 
 Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young. 
 To speak by teares, before ye have a tongue. 
 
 Speak, whimp'ring younglings, and make known 
 The reason, why 
 Ye droop, and weep ; 
 Is it for want of sleep ? 
 Or childish lullabie ? 
 Or that ye have not seen as yet 
 The violet? 
 Or brought a kisse 
 From that sweet-heart, to this ? 
 No, no, this sorrow shown 
 
 By your teares shed, 
 Wo'd have this lecture read, 
 That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, 
 Conceivd'^with grief are, and with teares brought 
 forth.
 
 HESPEIilDES. Ill 
 
 How Roses came Red. 
 
 ROSES at first were white, 
 Till they co'd not agree, 
 "Whether my Sapho's breast, 
 Or they more white sho'd be. 
 
 But being vanquisht quite, 
 
 A blush their cheeks bespred ; 
 
 Since which, beleeve the rest, 
 The roses first came red. 
 
 Comfort to a Lady upon the Death or 
 HER Husband. 
 
 DRY your sweet cheek, long drown'd with sor- 
 rows raine ; 
 Since clouds disperst, suns guild the aire again. 
 Seas chafe and fret, and beat, and over-boile ; 
 But turne soone after calme, as balme, or oile. 
 Winds have their time to rage ; but when they cease, 
 The leavie-trees nod in a still-born peace. 
 Your storme is over; lady, now appeare 
 Like to the peeping spring-time of the yeare. 
 Off then with grave clothes ; put fresh colours on ; 
 And flow, and flame, in your vermillion. 
 Upon your cheek sate Ysicles awhile ; 
 Now let the rose raigne like a queene, and smile. 
 
 How Violets came Blew. 
 
 LOVE on a day, wise poets tell. 
 Some time in wrangling spent, 
 Whether the violets sho'd excell, 
 Or she, in sweetest scent. 
 
 But Venus having lost the day, 
 Poore girles, she fell on you ; 
 
 And beat ye so, as some dare say, 
 Her blowes did make ye blew.
 
 112 HESPEKinES. 
 
 Upon Groynes. Epig. 
 
 /GROYNES, for his fleshly burghiry of late, 
 ^^J Stood in the holy-forum candidate : 
 The word is Roman ; but in English knowne : . 
 Penance, and standing so, are both but one. 
 
 To THE "Willow-tree. 
 
 ' 1 ^HOU art to all lost love the best, 
 
 -*- The onely true plant found, 
 Wherewith young men and maids distrest, 
 And left of love, are crown'd. 
 
 When once the lover's rose is dead, 
 
 Or laid aside forlorne ; 
 Then willow-garlands, 'bout the head, 
 
 Bedew'd with teares, are worne. 
 
 When with neglect, the lover's bane, 
 
 Pof)re maids rewarded be. 
 For their love lost : their onely gaine 
 
 Is but a wreathe from thee. 
 
 And underneath thy cooling shade. 
 
 When v/eary of the light, 
 The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid, 
 
 Come to weep out the night. 
 
 Mrs. Eliz. Wheeler, under the name of the 
 Lost Shepardesse. 
 
 AMONG the mirtles, as I walkt, 
 Love and my sighs thus intertalkt : 
 Tell me, said I, in deep distresse, 
 Where I may find my shepardesse. 
 Thou foole, said Love, know'st thou not this ? 
 In evei'y thing that's sweet, she is. 
 In yond' carnation goe and seek. 
 There thou shalt find her lip and cheek :
 
 HESPEBIDES. li; 
 
 In that ennamel'd pansie bv, 
 
 There thou shalt have her curious eye : 
 
 In bloome of peach, and roses bud, 
 
 There waves the streamer of her blood. 
 
 'Tis true, said I, and thereupon 
 
 I went to pluck them one by one, 
 
 To make of parts an union ; 
 
 But on a sudden all were gone. 
 
 At which I stopt ; said Love, these be 
 
 The true resemblances of thee ; 
 
 For as these flowers, thy joyes must die, 
 
 And in the turning of an eye ; 
 
 And all thy hopes of her must wither, 
 
 Like those short sweets ere knit tojjether. 
 
 ■'O'- 
 
 To THE King. 
 
 IF when these Ivricks, Cesar, you shall heave. 
 And that Apollo shall so touch your eare. 
 As for to make this, that, or any one 
 Xumber, your owne, by free adoption ; 
 That verse, of all the verses here, shall be 
 The h.eire to this great reulme of ■poetry. 
 
 To THE QlIEENE. 
 
 GODDESSE of youth, and lady of the spring, 
 Most fit to he the consort to a king. 
 Be pleas'd to rest you in this sacred grove. 
 Beset with mirtles ; whose each leafe drops love. 
 Many a sweet-fac't wood-nymph here is scene, 
 Of which chast order you are now the queene : 
 Witnesse their homage, when they come and strew 
 Your walks with llowers, and give their crowns to 
 
 you. 
 Your leavie-throne, with lilly-work, possesse ; 
 And be both princcsse here, and poetresse.
 
 114 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Poet's good AVishes for the most hope- 
 full AND HANDSOME PrINCE, THE 
 
 Duke of Yorke. 
 
 MAY his pretty duke-ship grow 
 Like t'a rose of Jericho : 
 Sweeter far, then ever yet 
 Showrs or sun-shines co'd beget. 
 May the graces, and the howers 
 Strew his hopes, and him with flowers : 
 And so dresse him up with love. 
 As to be the chick of Jove. 
 May the thrice-three-sisters sing 
 Him the soveraigne of their spring : 
 And entitle none to be 
 Prince of Hellicon, but he. 
 May his soft foot, where it treads, 
 Gardens thence produce and meads : 
 And those meddowes full be set 
 With the rose, and violet 
 May his ample name be knowne 
 To the last succession : 
 And his actions high be told 
 Through the world, but writ in gold. 
 
 To AnTHEA, who may command him any THING. 
 
 BID me to live, and I will live 
 Thy Protestant to be : 
 Or bid me love, and I will give 
 A loving heart to thee. 
 
 A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 
 
 A heart as sound and free, 
 As in the whole world thou canst find, 
 
 That heart He give to thee.
 
 T 
 
 HESPERIDES. 115 
 
 Bid that heart stay, and it will stay, 
 
 To honour thy decree : 
 Or bid it languish quite away, 
 
 And't shall doe so for thee. 
 
 Bid me to weep, and I will weep, 
 
 While I have eyes to see : 
 And having none, yet I will keep 
 
 A heart to weep for thee. 
 
 Bid me despaire, and He despaire, 
 
 Under that cypresse tree : 
 Or l)id me die, and I will dare 
 
 E'en Death, to die for thee. 
 
 Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 
 
 The very eyes of me : 
 And hast command of every part. 
 
 To live and die for thee. 
 
 Prevision, ob Provision. 
 
 HAT prince takes soone enough the victor's i-oomc. 
 Who first provides, not to he overcome. 
 
 Obedience in Subjects. 
 
 THE gods to kings the judgement give to sway : 
 The subjects onely glory to obrnj. 
 
 H 
 
 More potent, lesse peccant. 
 
 E that may sin, sins least ; leave to transgressc 
 Enfeebles much the seeds of wickednesse. 
 
 Upon a Maid that dyed the day she was 
 
 MARRYED. 
 
 ''r'ilAT morne which saw me made a bride, 
 
 -L The ev'ning witnest that I dy'd. 
 Those holy lights, wherewith they guide 
 Unto the bed the bashfuU bride,
 
 116 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Serv'd, but as tapers, for to burne, 
 And light my reliques to their urne. 
 This epitaph, which here you see, 
 Supply'd the epithalamie. 
 
 Upon Pink an ill-fac'd Paintek. Epig. 
 
 TO paint the fiend. Pink would the devill see ; 
 And so he may, if he'll be rul'd by me : 
 Let but Pink's face i' th' looking-glasse be showne. 
 And Pink may paint the devill's by his owne. 
 
 Upon Bkock. Epig. 
 
 TO dense his eyes, Tom Brock makes much adoe. 
 But not his mouth, the fouler of the two. 
 A clammie reume makes loathsome both his eyes : 
 His mouth worse furr'd with oathes and blasphemies. 
 
 To Meddowes. 
 
 YE have been fresh and green. 
 Ye have been fiU'd with flowers : 
 And ye the walks have been 
 
 Where maids have spent their houres. 
 
 You have beheld, how they 
 
 With wicker arks did come 
 To kisse, and beare away 
 
 The richer couslips home. 
 
 Y'ave heard them sweetly sing, 
 
 And seen them in a round : 
 Each virgin, like a spring. 
 
 With hony-succles crown'd. 
 
 But now, we see, none here. 
 
 Whose silv'rie feet did tread, 
 And with dishevell'd haire, 
 
 Adorn'd this smoother mead.
 
 HESPERIDES. 117 
 
 Like unthrifts, havinaj spent. 
 
 Your stock, and needy grown, 
 Y'are left here to lament 
 
 Your poore estates, alone. 
 
 Crosses. 
 
 ' I ^HOUGH good things answer many good intents; 
 -*■ Crosses doe still bring fo?'th the best events. 
 
 Miseries. 
 
 THOUGH hourely comforts from the gods we see, 
 No life is yet life'proofe from miserie. 
 
 Laugh and lie downe. 
 
 Y'AVE laught enough, sweet, vary now your 
 text; 
 And laush no more ; or laugh, and lie down next. 
 
 To HIS HOUSHOLD-GODS. 
 
 RISE, houshold-gods, and let us goe ; 
 But whither, I my selfe not know. 
 First, let us dwell on rudest seas ; 
 Next, with severest salvages ; 
 Last, let us make our best abode. 
 Where humane foot, as yet, n'er trod : 
 Search worlds of ice ; and rather there 
 Dwell, then in lothed Devonshire. 
 
 To the Nightingale, and Robin Red-bbest. 
 
 WHEN I departed am, ring tiiou my knell, 
 Thou pittifuU, and pretty Philomel : 
 And when I'm laid out for a corse ; then be 
 Thou sexton, red-brest, for to cover me.
 
 118 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE Yew and Cypresse to grace his 
 
 FUNERALL. 
 
 13 OTH you two have 
 -L-' llelation to the grave : 
 And where 
 The fun'rall-trump sounds, you are there. 
 
 I shall be made 
 Ere long a fleeting shade : 
 Pray come, 
 And doe some honour to my tomb. 
 
 Do not deny 
 My last request ; for I 
 Will be 
 ThankfuU to you, or friends, for me. 
 
 I CALL AND I CALL. 
 
 T CALL, I call : who doe ye call ? 
 
 -L The maids to catch this cowslip-ball : 
 
 But since these cowslips fading be. 
 
 Troth, leave the flowers, and maids, take me. 
 
 Yet, if that neither you will doe, 
 
 Speak but the word, and He take you. 
 
 On A perfdm'd Lady. 
 
 \T0\] say y'are sweet ; how sho'd we know 
 -*- Whether that you be sweet or no ? 
 From powders and perfumes keep free ; 
 Then we shall smell how sweet you be.
 
 HESPERIDES. 119 
 
 A NuPTiALL Song, ok Epithai.amie, on Sir 
 Clipseby Crew and his Lady. 
 
 WHAT'S that we see from far? the spring of day 
 Blooni'd from the east, or faire InjewL-rd May 
 Blowne out of April ; or some new- 
 Star fiU'd with glory to our view. 
 Reaching at heaven, 
 To adde a nobler planet to the seven ? 
 
 Say, or doe we not descric 
 Some "oddesse, in a cloud of tiffanie 
 
 To move, or rather the 
 Emergent Venus from the sea? 
 
 'Tis she ! 'tis she ! or else some more divine 
 Enliffhtneil substance ; mark how from the shrine 
 
 Of holy saints she paces on, 
 
 Treading upon vermilion 
 
 And amber; spice- 
 ing the chafte aire with fumes of paradise. 
 
 Then come on, come on, and yeeld 
 A savour like unto a blessed field, 
 
 When the bedabled morne 
 
 Washes the golden eares of corne. 
 
 See where she comes ; and smell how all the street 
 Breathes vine-yards and pomgranats : Ohow sweet! 
 
 As a fir'd altar, is each stone. 
 
 Perspiring pounded cynamon. 
 
 The phenix nest. 
 Built up of odours, burneth in her breast. 
 
 Who therein wo'd not consume 
 His soule to ash-heaps in that rich perfume ? 
 Bestroaking Fate the wliile 
 
 He burnes to embers on the pile. 
 
 Himen, O Himen ! tread the sacred ground ; 
 Shew thy white feet, and head with marjoram 
 crown'd :
 
 120 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Mount up thy flames, and let thy torch 
 Display the bridegroom in the porch, 
 In his desires 
 More towring, more disparkling then thy fires : 
 
 Shew her how his eyes do turne 
 And roule about, and in their motions burne 
 
 Their balls to ciudars : haste, 
 Or else to ashes he will waste. 
 
 Glide by the banks of virgins then, and passe 
 The shewers of roses, lucky foure-leav'd grasse : 
 
 The while the cloud of younglings sing, 
 
 And drown yee with a tiowrie spring : 
 While some repeat 
 Your praise, and bless you, sprinkling you with wheat ; 
 
 While that others doe divine ; 
 Blest is the bride, on ivlioin the sun doth shine ; 
 And thousands gladly wish 
 
 You multiply, as doth a fish. 
 
 And beautious bride we do confess y'are wise, 
 
 In dealing forth these bashfull jealousies : 
 In Love's name do so ; and a price 
 Set on your selfe, by being nice : 
 But yet take heed ; 
 
 What now you seem, be not the same indeed, 
 And turne apostate : Love will 
 
 Part of the way be met ; or sit stone-still. 
 
 On then, and though you slow- 
 ly go, yet, howsoever, go. 
 
 And now y'are enter'd ; see the codled cook 
 Runs from his torrid zone, to prie, and look. 
 
 And blesse his dainty mistresse : see, 
 
 The aged point out. This Is she. 
 
 Who now must sway 
 The house (Love shield her) with her yea and nay : 
 
 And the smirk butler thinks it 
 Sin, in's nap'rie, not to express his wit ; 
 Each striving to devise 
 
 Some gin, wherewith to catch your eyes.
 
 HESPERTDES. 1-21 
 
 To bed, to bed, kind turtles, now, and write 
 This the short'st day, and this the longest night ; 
 
 But yet too short for you : 'tis we. 
 
 Who count this night as long as three, 
 Lying alone. 
 Telling the clock strike ten, eleven, twelve, one. 
 
 Quickly, quickly then jjrepare ; 
 And let the young-men and the bride-maids share 
 Your garters; and their joynts 
 
 Encircle with the bride-grooms points. 
 
 By the bride's eyes, and by the teeming life 
 
 Of her green hopes, we charge ye, that no strife. 
 
 Farther then gentlenes tends, gets place 
 
 Among ye, striving for her lace : 
 O doe not fall 
 Foule in these noble pastimes, lest ye call 
 
 Discord in, and so divide 
 The youthfuU bride-groom, and the fragrant bride : 
 Which Love fore -fend; but spoken, 
 
 Be't to your praise, no peace was broken. 
 
 Strip her of spring-time, tender whimpring maids. 
 Now autumne's come, when all those llowrie aids 
 
 Of her delayes must end ; dispose 
 
 That lady-smock, that pansie, and that rose 
 Neatly apart; 
 But for prick-madam, and for gentle-heart ; 
 
 And soft maidens-blush, the bride 
 Makes holy these, all others lay aside : 
 
 Then strip her, or unto her 
 
 Let him come, who dares undo her. 
 
 And to enchant yee more, see every where 
 About the roofe a syren in a sphere, 
 
 As we think, sinjrinfi to the dinne 
 
 Of many a warbling cherubim : 
 
 O marke yee how 
 The soule of nature melts in numbers : now
 
 122 HESPEBIDES. 
 
 See, a thousand Cupids flye, 
 To light their tapers at the bride's bright eye. 
 To bed ; or her they'l tire, 
 Were she an element of fire. 
 
 And to your more bewitching, see, the proud 
 Plumpe bed beare up, and swelling like a cloud. 
 
 Tempting the two too modest ; can 
 
 Yee see it brusle like a swan. 
 
 And you be cold 
 To meet it, when it woo's and seemes to fold 
 
 The amies to hugge it ? throw, throw 
 Your selves into the mighty over-flow 
 
 Of that white pride, and drowne 
 
 The night, with you, in floods of downe. 
 
 The bed is ready, and the maze of love 
 Lookes for ihe treaders ; every where is wove 
 
 Wit and new misterie ; read, and 
 
 Put in i)ractise, to understand 
 
 And know each wile, 
 Each hieroglyphick of a kisse or smile ; 
 
 And do it to the full ; reach 
 High in your own conceipt, and some way teach 
 Nature and art, one more 
 
 Play, then they ever knew before. 
 
 If needs we must for ceremonies-sake, 
 Blesse a sack-posset ; luck go with it ; take 
 
 The night-charme quickly ; you have spells, 
 
 And magicks for to end, and hells. 
 To passe ; but such 
 And of such torture as no one would grutch 
 
 To live therein for ever : frie 
 And consume, and grow again to die. 
 
 And live, and in that case. 
 
 Love the confusion of the place. 
 
 But since it must be done, dispatch, and sowe 
 Up in a sheet your bride, and what if so
 
 HESPERIDES. ]-23 
 
 It be with rock, or walles of brasse, 
 Ye towre her up, as Danae was ; 
 
 Thinke you that this, 
 Or hell it selfe a powerfull bulwarke is ? 
 
 I tell yee no ; but like a 
 Bold bolt of thunder lie will make his way. 
 
 And rend the cloud, and throw 
 The sheet about, like flakes of snow. 
 
 All now is husht in silence ; midwife-moone. 
 With all her owle-ey'd issue, begs a boon 
 
 Which you must grant; that's entrance; with 
 
 Which extract, all we can call pith 
 And quintiscence 
 Of planetary bodies ; so commence 
 
 All faire constellations 
 Looking upon yee, that, that nations 
 
 Springing from two such fires. 
 
 May blaze the vertue of their sires. 
 
 The Silken Snake. 
 
 IIJ'OR sport my Julia threw a lace 
 *- Of silke and silver at my face : 
 Watchet the silke was ; and did make 
 A shew, as if 't 'ad been a snake : 
 The suddenness did me affright ; 
 But though it scar'd, it did not bite. 
 
 Upon Himselfe. 
 
 I AM sive-like, and can hold 
 Nothing hot, or nothing cold. 
 Put in love, and put in too 
 Jealousie, and both will through : 
 Put in feare, and hope, and doubt ; 
 What comes in, runnes quickly out :
 
 124 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Put in secrecies withall, 
 What ere enters, out it shall : 
 But if jou can stop the sive, 
 For mine own part I'de as lieve 
 Maides sho'd say, or virgins sing, 
 Herrick keeps, as holds nothing. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 LOVE'S a thing, as I do heare, 
 Ever full of pensive feare ; 
 Rather then to -which Tie fall, 
 Trust me. Tie not like at all : 
 If to love I should entend, 
 Let my haire then stand an end : 
 And that terrour likewise prove, 
 Fatall to me in my love. 
 But if horrour cannot slake 
 Flames, which wo'd an entrance make ; 
 Then the next thing I desire. 
 Is to love, and live i'th' fire. 
 
 Reverence to Riches. 
 
 T IKE to the income must be our expence ; 
 -* — ■' Mail s fortune must be had in reverence. 
 
 Devotion makes the Deity. 
 
 w 
 
 HO formes a godhead out of gold or stone, 
 Makes not a god; but he that prayes to one. 
 
 To ALL YOUNG Men that love. 
 
 I COULD wish you all, who love. 
 That ye could your thoughts remove 
 From your mistresses, and be, 
 Wisely wanton, like to me. 
 I could wish you dispossest 
 Of that fiend that marres your rest ;
 
 HESPERIDES. 125 
 
 And witli tapers comes to frijiht 
 
 Your weake senses iu the uight. 
 
 I co'd wish, ye all, who frie 
 
 Cold as ice, or coole as I. 
 
 But if flames best like ye, then 
 
 Much good do't ye, gentlemen. 
 
 I a merry heart will keep, 
 
 While you wring your hands and weep. 
 
 T^IS 
 
 The Eyes. 
 
 IS a known principle in war, 
 The eles be first, that conquer'd are. 
 
 No Fault in Women. 
 
 NO fault in women to refuse 
 The offer, which they most wo'd chuse. 
 No fault in women, to confesse 
 How tedious they are in their dresse. 
 No fault in women, to lay on 
 The tincture of vermillion : 
 And there to give the cheek a die 
 Of white, where nature doth deny. 
 No fault in women, to make show 
 Of largeness, when th'are nothing so : 
 When, true it is, the out-side swels 
 With inward buckram, little else. 
 No fault in women, though they be 
 But scldome from suspition free : 
 No fault in womankind, at all, * 
 If tliey but slip, and never fall. 
 
 Upon Shark. Epig. 
 
 SHARK when he goes to any publick feast, 
 Eates to ones thinking, of all there, the least. 
 What saves the master of the house thereby ?
 
 126 HESPERIDES. 
 
 AVhen if the servants searcli, they may descry 
 In his wide codpeece, dinner being done, 
 Two napkins cram'd up, and a silver spoone. 
 
 Oberon's Feast. 
 
 SHAPCOT! to thee the fairy state 
 /, with disc7'etio7i, dedicate. 
 Because thou prizest things that are 
 Cu?'ious, and un-familia7'. 
 Take first the feast ; these dishes gone ; 
 Wee'l see the fairy-court anon. 
 
 A LITTLE mushroome table spred, 
 After short prayers, they set on bread ; 
 A nioon-parcht grain of purest wheat. 
 With some small glit'rinij gritt, to eate 
 His choyce bitts with ; then in a trice 
 They make a feast lesse great then nice. 
 But all this while his eye is serv'd, 
 We must not tliinke his eare was sterv'd : 
 But that there was in place to stir 
 His spleen, the chirring grashopper ; 
 The merry cricket, puling flie, 
 The piping gnat for minstralcy. 
 And now, we must imagine first, 
 The elves present to quench his thirst 
 A pure seed-pearle of inflmt dew, 
 Brought and besweetned in a blew 
 And pregnant violet ; which done, 
 His kitling eyes begin to runne 
 Quite througli the table, where he spies 
 The homes of paperie butterflies. 
 Of which he eates, and tastes a liitle 
 Of that we call the cuckoes spittle. 
 A little fuz-ball pudding stands 
 By, yet -not blessed by his hands.
 
 HESPERIDES. 127 
 
 That was too coorse ; but then forthwith 
 
 He ventures boldly on the pith 
 
 Of susi'ed rush, and eates the sacse 
 
 And well bestruttod bees sweet baeire : 
 
 Gladding his pallat with some store 
 
 Of emits eggs ; what wo'd he more ? 
 
 But beards of mice, a newt's stew'd thigh, 
 
 A bloated earewig, and a Hie ; 
 
 With the red-capt worme, that's shut 
 
 Within the concave of a nut, 
 
 Browne as his tooth. A little moth. 
 
 Late fatned in a piece of cloth : 
 
 With withered cherries ; mandraices eares ; 
 
 Moles eyes ; to these, the slain-stags teares : 
 
 The unctuous dewlaps of a snaile ; 
 
 The broke-heart of a nightingale 
 
 Ore-come in rausicke ; with a wine, 
 
 Ne're ravisht from the flattering vine, 
 
 But gently prest from the soft side 
 
 Of the most sweet and dainty bride, 
 
 Brought in a dainty daizie, which 
 
 He fully quaffs up to bewitch 
 
 His blood to iieight ; this done, conunendeil 
 
 Grace by his priest ; The feast is ended. 
 
 B 
 
 Event of Things not in our Power. 
 
 Y time, and counsell, doe the best we can, 
 Th'event is never in the power of man. 
 
 Upon her Blush. 
 
 WHEX Julia blushes, she do's show 
 Checks like to roses, when they blow. 
 
 o 
 
 Merits make the Man. 
 
 UR honours, and our commendations be 
 Due to the merits, not authoritie.
 
 128 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To Virgins. 
 
 TT EARE, ye virgins, and He teach, 
 -^ J- What the times of old did preach. 
 Rosamond was in a bower 
 Kept, as Danae in a tower : 
 But yet Love, who subtile is, 
 Crept to that, and came to this. 
 Be ye lockt up like to these, 
 Or the rich Hesjierides ; 
 Or those babies in your eyes, 
 In their christall nunneries ; 
 Notwithstanding Love will win, 
 Or else force a passage in : 
 And as coy be, as you can. 
 Gifts will get ye, or the man. 
 
 E 
 
 Vertue. 
 
 ACH must, in vertue, strive for to excell ; 
 That man lives twice, that lives the first life well. 
 
 The Bell-man. 
 
 FROM noise of scare-fires rest ye free, 
 From murders benedicitie. 
 From all mischances, that may fright 
 Your pleasing slumbers in the night : 
 Mercie secure ye all, and keep 
 The goblin from ye, while ye sleep. 
 Past one aclock, and almost two, 
 My masters all, Good day to you. 
 
 o 
 
 Bashfulnesse. 
 
 F all our parts, the eyes expresse 
 The sweetest kind of bashfulnesse.
 
 HESPERIDES. 129 
 
 To THE MOST ACCOMPLISHT GeNTLEMAN, MaSTER 
 
 Edward Norgate, Clakk of the Signet 
 TO His Majesty. Epig. 
 
 T^OR one so rarely tun'd to fit all parts ; 
 
 J- For one to whom espous'd are all the arts ; 
 
 Long have I sought for : but co'd never see 
 
 Them all concenter'd in one man, but thee. 
 
 Thus, thou that man art, whom the Fates conspir'd 
 
 To make but one, and that's thy selfe, admir'd. 
 
 Upon Prudence Baldwin hee Sicknesse. 
 
 TDRUEj my dearest maid, is sick, 
 
 -•- Almost to be lunatick : 
 .^isculapius ! come and bring 
 Means for her recovering ; 
 And a gallant cock shall be 
 Offer'd up by her, to thee. 
 
 To Apollo. A short Htmne. 
 
 PHCEBUS ! when that I a verse, 
 Of some numbers more rehearse ; 
 Tune my words, that they may fall, 
 Each way smoothly musicall : 
 For which favour, there shall be 
 Swans devoted unto thee. 
 
 A Htmne to Bacchus. 
 
 BACCHUS, let me drink no more ; 
 W ild are seas, that want a shore. 
 When our drinking has no stint, 
 There is no one pleasure in't. 
 I have drank up for to please 
 Thee, that great cup Hercules : 
 Urge no more ; and there shall be 
 Daffadills g'en up to thee. 
 
 K.
 
 130 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Bungie. 
 
 BUNGIE do's fast; looks pale; puts sack- cloth ou; 
 Not out of conscience, or religion : 
 Or that this yonker keeps so strict a Lent, 
 Fearing to break the king's commandement : 
 But being poore, and knowing flesh is deare, 
 He keeps not one, but many Lents i'th'yeare. 
 
 On HiMSEtrE. 
 
 HERE down my wearyed limbs He lay ; 
 My pilgrims staffe ; my weed of gray : 
 My palmers hat ; my scallops shell ; 
 My crosse ; my cord ; and all farewell. 
 For having now my journey done, 
 Just at the setting of the sun, 
 Here I have found a chamber fit, 
 God and good friends be thankt for it, 
 Where if I can a lodger be 
 A little while from tramplers free ; 
 At my up-rising next, I shall, 
 If not requite, yet thank ye all. 
 Meane while, the holy-rood hence fright 
 The fouler fiend, and evill spright, 
 From scaring you or yours this night. 
 
 Casualties. 
 
 GOOD things, that come of course, far lesse doe 
 please. 
 Then those, which come by sweet contingences. 
 
 D 
 
 Bribes and Gifts get all. 
 
 EAD falls the cause, if once the hand be mute 
 But let that speak, the client gets the suit.
 
 HESPERIDES. 131 
 
 The End. 
 
 I 
 
 F well thou hast begun, goe on fore-right ; 
 It is the end that crownes us, not thefght. 
 
 Upon a Chii,d that dyed. 
 
 T_T ERE she lies, a pretty bud, 
 -*- J- Lately made of flesh and blood : 
 Who, as soone, fell fast asleep. 
 As her little eyes did peep. 
 Give her strewings ; but not stir 
 The earth, that lightly covers her. 
 
 Upon Sneape. Epig. 
 
 One APE has a face so brittle, that it breaks 
 *^ Forth into blushes, whensoere he speaks. 
 
 Content, not Gates. 
 
 " I "TS not the food, but the content 
 
 -■- That makes the table's merriment. 
 Where trouble serves the board, we eate 
 The platters there, as soone as meat. 
 A little pipkin with a bit 
 Of mutton, or of veale in it. 
 Set on my table, trouble-free, 
 More then a feast contenteth me. 
 
 The Entertainment : or. Porch-verse, at the 
 jVIarriage of Mr. Hen. Northly, and the 
 MOST WITTY Mrs. Lettice Yard. 
 
 ^X T^EELCOME! but yet no entrance, till we blesse 
 * * First you, then you, and both for white successe. 
 Profane no porch, young man and maid, for fear 
 Ye wrong the threshold-god, that keeps peace here :
 
 132 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Please him, and then all good-luck will betide 
 You, the brisk bridegroome, you, the dainty bride. 
 Do all things sweetly, and in comely wise ; 
 Put on your garlands first, then sacrifice : 
 That done ; when both of you have seemly fed. 
 We'll call on Night, to bring ye both to bed : 
 Where being laid, all faire signes lookino; on. 
 Fish- like, encrease then to a million ; 
 And millions of spring-times may ye have, 
 Which spent, on death, bring to ye both one grave. 
 
 The Good-night or Blessing. 
 
 BLESSINGS, in abundance come. 
 To the bride, and to her groome ; 
 May the bed, and this short night, 
 Know the fulness of delight ! 
 Pleasures many here attend ye, 
 And ere long, a boy Love send ye 
 Curld and comely, and so trimme, 
 Maides, in time, may ravish him. 
 Thus a dew of graces fall 
 On ye both ; goodnight to all. 
 
 Upon Leech. 
 
 LEECH boasts, he has a pill, that can alone. 
 With speed give sick men th-eir salvation : 
 'Tis strange, his father long time has been ill, 
 And credits physick, yet not trusts his pill : 
 And why ? he knowes he must of cure despaire. 
 Who makes the slie physitian his heire. 
 
 To Daffadills. 
 
 FAIRE Dafflvdills, we weep to see 
 You haste away so soone : 
 As yet the early-rising sun 
 Has not attain'd his noone.
 
 HESPERIDES. 133 
 
 Stay, stay, 
 Untill the hasting day 
 
 Has run 
 But to the Even-song ; 
 And, having pray'd together, we 
 Will goe with you along. 
 
 We have short time to stay, as you, 
 
 We have as short a spring ; 
 As quick a growth to meet decay. 
 As you, or any thing. 
 AVe die, 
 As your hours doe, and drie 
 
 Away, 
 Like to the summers raine ; 
 Or as the pearles of morning's dew 
 Ne'r to be found againe. 
 
 To A Maid. 
 
 YOU say, you love me ; that I thus must prove ; 
 If that you lye, then I will sweare you love. 
 
 Upon a Lady that dted in child-bed, and left 
 A Daughter behind her. 
 
 AS gilly flowers do but stay 
 To blow, and seed, and so away ; 
 So you sweet lady, sweet as May, 
 The gardens-glory liv'd a while. 
 To lend the world your scent and smile. 
 But when your own faire print was set 
 Once in a virgin iiosculet. 
 Sweet as your selfe, and newly blown, 
 To give that life, resign'd your own : 
 But so, as still the mother's power 
 Lives in the pretty lady-flower.
 
 134 HESPERIDES. 
 
 A New-teares Gift sent to Sir Simeon Steward. 
 
 1\T0 newes of navies burnt at seas; 
 
 ^ ^ No noise of late spawn'd tittyries : 
 
 No closset plot, or open vent, 
 
 That frights men with a parliament : 
 
 No new devise, or late found trick, 
 
 To read by th' starres, the kingdoms sick : 
 
 No ginne to catch the state, or wring 
 
 The free-born nosthrills of the king. 
 
 We send to you ; but here a jolly 
 
 Verse crown'd with yvie, and with holly : 
 
 That tels of winters tales and mirth, 
 
 That milk-maids make about the hearth. 
 
 Of Christmas sports, the wassell-boule, 
 
 That tost up, after fox-i'th'hole : 
 
 Of blind-man-buffe, and of the care 
 
 That young men have to shooe the mare : 
 
 Of twelf-tide cakes, of pease, and beanes 
 
 Wherewith ye make those merry sceanes. 
 
 When as ye chuse your king and queen, 
 
 And cry out, Hey, for our town green. 
 
 Of ash-heapes, in the which ye use 
 
 Husbands and wives by streakes to chuse : 
 
 Of crackling laurell, which fore-sounds, 
 
 A plentious harvest to your grounds : 
 
 Of these, and such like things, for shift. 
 
 We send in stead of New-yeares gift. 
 
 Kead then, and when your faces shine 
 
 With bucksome meat and capring wine : 
 
 Eemember us in cups full crown'd. 
 
 And let our citie-health go round. 
 
 Quite through the young maids and the men, 
 
 To the ninth number, if not tenne ; 
 
 Untill the fired chesnuts leape 
 
 For joy, to see the fruits ye reape,
 
 HESPERIDES. 135 
 
 From the plumpe challice, and the cup, 
 
 That tempts till it be tossed up : 
 
 Then as ye sit about your embers, 
 
 Call not to mind those fled Decembers ; 
 
 But think on these, that are t'appeare. 
 
 As daughters to the instant yeare : 
 
 Sit crown'd with rose-buds, and carouse, 
 
 Till Liber Pater twirles the house 
 
 About your eares ; and lay upon 
 
 The yeare, your cares, that's fled and gon. 
 
 And let the russet swaines the plough 
 
 And harrow hang up resting now ; 
 
 And to the bag-pipe all addresse ; 
 
 Till sleep takes place of wearinesse. 
 
 And thus, throughout, with Christmas playes 
 
 Frolick the full twelve holy-dayes. 
 
 ]\Iattens, or Morning Prayer. 
 
 WHEN with the virgin morning thou do'st rise, 
 Crossing thy selfe ; come thus to sacrifice : 
 First wash thy heart in innocence, then bring 
 Pure hands, pure habits, pure, pure every thing. 
 Next to the altar humbly kneele, and thence, 
 Give up thy soule in clouds of frankinsence. 
 Thy golden censors fiU'd with odours sweet, 
 Shall make thy actions with their ends to meet. 
 
 Evensong. 
 
 BEGINNE with Jove; then is the workehalfe done ; 
 And runnes most smoothly, when tis well begunne. 
 Jove's is the first and last : the morn's his due, 
 The midst is thine ; but Joves the evening too : 
 As sure a Mattins do's to him belong, 
 So sure he layes claime to the Evensong.
 
 136 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Bracelet to Julia. 
 
 A "^ THY I tye about thy wrist, 
 
 ^ * Julia, this my silken twist ; 
 For what other reason is't, 
 But to shew thee how in part. 
 Thou my pretty captive art ? 
 But thy bondslave is my heart : 
 'Tis but silke that bindeth thee, 
 Knap the thread, and thou art free : 
 But 'tis otherwise with me ; 
 I am bound, and fast bound so, 
 That from thee I cannot go, 
 If I co'd, I wo'd not so. 
 
 The Christian Militant. 
 
 A MAN prepar'd against all ills to come, 
 ■^^^ That dares to dead the fire of martirdome : 
 That sleeps at home ; and sayling there at ease, 
 Feares not the fierce sedition of the seas : 
 That's counter-proofe against the farms mis-haps, 
 Undreadfull too of courtly thunderclaps : 
 That weares one face, like heaven, and never showes 
 A change, when Fortune either comes, or goes : 
 That keepes his own strong guard, in the despight 
 Of what can hurt by day, or harme by night : 
 That takes and re-delivers every stroake 
 Of chance, as made up all of rock, and oake : 
 That sighs at other's death ; smiles at bis own 
 Most dire and horrid crucifixion. 
 Who for true glory suiFers thus ; we grant 
 Him to be here our Christian militant. 
 
 A short Hymne to Larr. 
 
 THOUGH I cannot give thee fires 
 Glit'ring to my free desires : 
 These accept, and He be free, 
 Offering poppy unto thee.
 
 HESPERIDES. 137 
 
 Another to Neptune. 
 
 MIGHTY Neptune, may it please 
 Thee, the rector of the seas, 
 That my barque may safely runne 
 Through thy watrie-region ; 
 And a tunnie-fish shall be 
 Offer' (1 up, with thanks to thee. 
 
 Upon Greedy. Epig. 
 
 AN, old, old widow Greedy needs wo'd wed, 
 Not for affection to her, or her bed ; 
 But in regard, 'twas often said, this old 
 Woman wo'd bring him more then co'd be told, 
 He tooke her ; now the jest in this appeares. 
 So old she was, that none co'd tell her yeares. 
 
 His Embalming to Julia. 
 
 FOR my embalming, Jidia, do but this. 
 Give thou my lips but their supreamest kiss : 
 Or else trans-fuse thy breath into the chest. 
 Where my small reliques must for ever rest : 
 That breath the balm, the myrrh, the nard shal be. 
 To give an incorruption unto me. 
 
 Gold, before Goodnesse. 
 
 T J OW rich a man is, all desire to know ; 
 J7i But none enquires if good he be, or no. 
 
 The Kisse. A Dialogue. 
 
 1. A MONG thy fancies, tell me this, 
 ■^~*- What is the thing we call a kisse? 
 
 2. I shall resolve ye, what it is. 
 
 It is a creature born and bred 
 Between the lips, all cherrie-red.
 
 138 HESPERIDES. 
 
 By love and warme desires fed, 
 Chor. And makes more soft the bridall bed. 
 
 2. It is an active flame, that flies, 
 First, to the babies of the eyes ; 
 And charmes them there with lullabies ; 
 Chor. And stils the bride too, when she cries. 
 
 2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the eare, •, 
 It frisks, and flyes, now here, now there, 
 'Tis now farre off, and then tis nere ; 
 Chor. And here, and there, and every where. 
 
 1. Has it a speaking virtue ? 2. Yes. 
 1. How speaks it, say ? 2. Do you but this. 
 Part your joyn'd lips, then speaks your kisse ; 
 Chor. And this love's sweetest language is. 
 
 1. Has it a body ? 2. I, and wings, 
 With thousand rare encolourings : 
 And as it flyes, it gently sings, 
 Chor. Love, honie yeelds ; but never stings. 
 
 The Admonition. 
 
 SEE ST thou those diamonds which she weares 
 In that rich carkanet ; 
 Or those on her dishevel'd haires, 
 
 Faire pearles in order set ? 
 Beleeve, young man, all those were teares 
 
 By wretched wooers sent. 
 In mournfuU hyacinths and rue, 
 That figure discontent ; 
 Which when not warmed by her view, 
 
 By cold neglect, each one, 
 Congeal'd to pearle and stone ; 
 
 Which precious spoiles upon her, 
 She weares as trophees of her honour. 
 Ah, then consider what all this implies ; 
 She that will weare thy teares, wo'd weare thine eyes.
 
 HESPERIDES. 139 
 
 To HIS HONOURED KiNSMAN SiR WllXIAM 
 SOAME. EpIG. 
 
 I CAN but name thee, and methinks I call 
 All that have been, or are canonicall 
 For love and bountle, to come neare, and see, 
 Their many vertues volum'd up in thee ; 
 In thee, brave man ! whose incorrupted fame, 
 Casts forth a light like to a virgin flame : 
 And as it shines, it tbrowes a scent about. 
 As when a rain-bow in perfumes goes out. 
 So vanish hence, but leave a name, as sweet, 
 As Benjamin, and Storax, when they meet. 
 
 On HlMSELFE. 
 
 ASKE me, why I do not sing 
 To the tension of the string. 
 As I did, not long ago. 
 When ray numbers full did flow ? 
 Griefe, ay me ! hath struck my lute, 
 And my tongue at one time mute. 
 
 N' 
 
 To Larr. 
 
 O more shall I, since I am driven hence. 
 Devote to thee my graines of fraukinsence 
 No more shall I from mantle-trees hang downe, 
 To honour thee, my little parsly crown : 
 No more shall I, I feare me, to thee bring 
 My chives of garlick for an offering : 
 No more shall I, from henceforth, heare a quire 
 Of merry crickets by my country fire. 
 Go where I will, thou luckie Larr, stay here, 
 Warme by a glit'ring chimnie all the yeare.
 
 140 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Departure of the good D^mon. 
 
 WHAT can I do in poetry, 
 Now the good spirit's gone from me ? 
 Why nothing now, but lonely sit, 
 And over-read what I have writ. 
 
 Clemency. 
 
 FOR punishment in warre, it will suffice, 
 If the chiefe author of the faction dyes ; 
 Let but few smart, but strike a feare through all : 
 Where the fault springs, there let the judgement fall. 
 
 His Age, dedicated to his peculiar friend, 
 M. John Wickes, under the name 
 
 OF POSTHUMUS. 
 
 AH Posthumus ! our yeares hence flye. 
 And leave no sound ; nor piety, 
 Or prayers, or vow 
 Can keepe the wrinkle from the brow : 
 
 But we must on. 
 As Fate do's lead or draw us ; none. 
 None, Posthumus, co'd ere decline 
 The doome of cruell Proserpine. 
 
 The pleasing wife, the house, the ground 
 Must all be left, no one plant found 
 
 To follow thee, 
 Save only the curst-cipresse tree : 
 
 A merry mind 
 Looks forward, scornes what's left behind : 
 Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may, 
 And here enjoy our holiday. 
 
 Wave seen the past-best times, and these 
 Will nere return, we see the seas, 
 
 And moons to wain ; 
 But they fill up their ebbs again :
 
 HESPERIDES. 141 
 
 But vanisht man, 
 Like to a lilly-lost, nere can, 
 Nere can repuUulate, or bi'ing 
 His dayes to see a second spring. 
 
 But on we must, and thither tend. 
 Where Anchus and rich TuUus blend 
 
 Their sacred seed : 
 Thus has infernall Jove decreed ; 
 
 We must be made, 
 Ere long, a song, ere long, a shade. 
 Why then, since life to us is short, 
 Lets make it full up, by our sport. 
 
 Crown we our heads with roses then. 
 And 'noint with Tirian balme ; for when 
 
 We two are dead. 
 The world with us is buried. 
 
 Then live we free. 
 As is the air, and let us be 
 Our own fair wind, and mark each one 
 Day with the white and luckie stone. 
 
 We ai'e not poore ; although we have 
 No roofs of cedar, nor our brave 
 
 Baiffi, nor keep 
 Account of such a flock of sheep .; 
 
 Nor bullocks fed 
 To lard the shambles : barbels bi-ed 
 'J'o kisse our hands, nor do we wish 
 For Pollio's hiuipries in our dish. 
 
 If we can meet, and so conferre, 
 Both by a shining salt-seller ; 
 
 And have our roofe, 
 Although not archt, yet weather proofe, 
 
 ■ And seeling free, 
 From that cheape candle baudery : 
 We'le eate our beane with that full mirth 
 As we were lords of all the earth.
 
 142 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Well then, on what seas we are tost, 
 Our comfort is, we can't be lost. 
 
 Let the winds drive 
 Our barke ; yet she will keepe alive 
 
 Amidst the deepes ; 
 'Tis constancy, my Wickes, which keepes 
 The pinnace up ; which though she erres 
 I'th' seas, she saves her passengers. 
 
 Say, we must part, sweet mercy blesse, 
 Us both i'th'sea, camp, wildernesse, 
 
 Can we so farre 
 Stray, to become lesse circular. 
 
 Then we are now ? 
 No, no, that selfe same heart, that vow. 
 Which made us one, shall ne'r undoe ; 
 Or ravell so, to make us two. 
 
 Live in thy peace ; as for my selfe. 
 When I am bruised on the shelfe 
 
 Of time, and show 
 My locks behung with frost and snow : 
 
 When with the reume. 
 The cough, the ptisick, I consume 
 Unto an almost nothing ; then. 
 The ages fled. He call agen : 
 
 And with a teare compare these last 
 Lame, and bad times, with those are past, 
 
 While Baucis by, 
 My old leane wife, shall kisse it dry : 
 
 And so we'l sit 
 By 'th'fire, foretelling snow and slit, 
 And weather by our aches, grown 
 Now old enough to be our own 
 
 True calenders, as pusses eare 
 
 Washt or's, to tell what change is neare : 
 
 Then to asswage 
 The gripings of the chine by age ; 
 
 I'le call my young
 
 HESPERIDES. 143 
 
 liilus to sinjj such a sonjr 
 
 I made upon my Julia's brest ; 
 
 And of her blush at such a feast. 
 
 Then shall he read that flowre of mine 
 Enclos'd within a christall shrine : 
 
 A primrose next ; 
 A piece, then of a higher text : 
 
 For to beget 
 In me a more transcendant heate, 
 Then that insinuating fire, 
 AYhich crept into each aged sire. ' 
 
 When the faire Hellen, from her eyes, 
 Shot forth her loving sorceries : 
 
 At which I'le reare 
 Mine aged limbs above my chaire : 
 
 And hearing it, 
 Flutter and crow, as in a fit 
 Of fresh concupiscence, and cry, 
 No lust theres like to poetry. 
 
 Thus frantick crazie man, Got wot, 
 He call to mind things half forgot : 
 
 And oft between, 
 Repeat the times that I have seen ! 
 
 Thus ripe with tears, 
 And twisting my liilus hairs ; 
 Doting, He weep and say, In truth, 
 Baucis, these were my sins of youth. 
 
 Then next He cause my hopefull lad, 
 If a wild apple can be had. 
 
 To crown the hearth, 
 Larr thus conspiring with our mirth, 
 
 Then to infuse 
 Our browner ale into the cruse : 
 Which sweetly spic't, we'l first carouse 
 Unto the Genius of the house.
 
 144 HESPERIDES. 
 
 'J'heii the next health to friends of mine, 
 Loving the brave Burgundian wine, 
 
 High sons of Pith, 
 Whose fortunes I have frolickt with : 
 
 Such as co'd well 
 Bear up the magick bough, and spel : 
 And dancing 'bout the m3'stick Thyrse, 
 Give up the just applause to verse : 
 
 To those, and then agen to thee 
 We'l drink, my Wickes, untill we be 
 
 Plump us the cherry. 
 Though not so fresh, yet full as merry 
 
 As the crickit ; 
 The untam'd heifer, or the pricket, 
 Untill our tongues shall tell our ears. 
 Ware younger by a score of years. 
 
 Thus, till we see the fire lesse shiue 
 From th' embers, then the kitlings eyne, 
 
 We'l still sit up, 
 Sphering about the wassail cup. 
 
 To all those times. 
 Which gave me honour for my rhimes. 
 The cole once spent, we'l then to bed, 
 Farre more then night bewearied. 
 
 c 
 
 A SHoaT Hymne to Venus. 
 
 GODDESSE, I do love a girle 
 Eubie-lipt, and tooth'd with pearl 
 If so be, I may but prove 
 Luckie in this maide I love : 
 I will promise there shall be 
 Mirtles ofier'd up to thee.
 
 HESPERIDES. 145 
 
 To A Gentlewoman on just dealing. 
 
 TRUE to your self, and sheets, you'l have me 
 swear, 
 You shall ; if righteous dealing I find there. 
 Do not you fall through frailty ; Ee be sure 
 To keep my bond still free from forfeiture. 
 
 The Hand and Tongue. 
 
 ' I '"WO parts of us successively command ; 
 -■- The tongue in peace ; but then in warre the 
 hand. 
 
 Upon a delating Lady. 
 
 COME, come away. 
 Or let me go ; 
 Must I hei-e stay, 
 Because y'are slow ; 
 And will continue so ? 
 Troth, lady, no. 
 
 I scorne to be 
 A slave to state : 
 And since Tm free, 
 I will not wait. 
 Henceforth at such a rate. 
 For needy Fate. 
 
 If you desire 
 
 My spark sho'd glow, 
 
 The peeping fire 
 
 You must blow ; 
 
 Or I shall quickly grow, 
 
 To frost or snow.
 
 146 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE Lady Mary Villars, Goveknesse to the 
 Pkincesse Henretta. 
 
 WHEN I of Villars doe but heare the name, 
 It calls to mind, that mighty Buckingham, 
 Who was your brave exalted uncle here. 
 Binding the wheele of Fortune to his sphere ; . 
 Who spurn'd at envie ; and co'd bring, with ease, 
 An end to all his stately purposes. 
 For his love then, whose sacred reliques show 
 Their resurrection, and their growth in you ; 
 And for my sake, whoever did prefer 
 You, above all those sweets of Westminster : 
 Permit my book to have a free accesse 
 To kisse your hand, most dainty governesse. 
 
 Upon his Julia. 
 
 WILL ye heare, what I can say 
 Briefly of my Julia ? 
 Black and rowling is her eye. 
 Double chinn'd, and forehead high : 
 Lips she has, all ruble red. 
 Cheeks like creame enclarited : 
 And a nose that is the grace 
 And proscenium of her face. 
 So that we may guesse by these, 
 The other parts will richly please. 
 
 To Flowers. 
 
 IN time of life, I grac't ye with my verse ; 
 Doe now your flowrie honours to my herse. 
 You shall not languish, trust me : virgins here 
 Weeping, shall make ye flourish all the yeere.
 
 HESPERIDES. 147 
 
 To MT ILL Reader. 
 
 THOU say'st my lines are hard ; 
 And I the truth will tell ; 
 They are both hard, and uiarr'd, 
 If thou not read'st them well. 
 
 The Power in the People. 
 
 T ET kings command, and doe the best they may, 
 J — ' The saucie subjects still will beare the sway. 
 
 A Htmne to Venus, and Cupid. 
 
 CEA-BORN Goddesse, let me be, 
 
 ^^ By thy sonne thus grac't, and thee ; 
 
 That when ere I wooe, I find 
 
 Virgins coy, but not unkind. 
 
 Let me when I kisse a maid, 
 
 Taste her lips, so over-laid 
 
 With loves-sirrop ; that I may. 
 
 In your temple, when I pray, 
 
 Kisse the altar, and confess 
 
 Ther's in love, no bitterness. 
 
 On JuiiiA's Picture. 
 
 T T OW am I ravisht ! when I do but see, 
 -*- J- The painter's art in thy sciography ? 
 If so, how much more shall I dote thereon, 
 When once he gives it incarnation ? 
 
 Her Bed. 
 
 SEE'ST thou that cloud as silver cleare. 
 Plump, soft, & swelling everywhere ? 
 'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there. 
 
 Her Legs. 
 
 FAIN would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg. 
 Which is us white and hair-less as an egge.
 
 148 HESPERTDES. 
 
 Upon her Almes. 
 
 SEE how the poore do waiting stand, 
 For the expansion of thy hand. 
 A wafer dol'd by thee, will swell 
 Thousands to feed by miracle. 
 
 s 
 
 Rewards. 
 
 TILL to our gains our chief respect is had ; 
 Reward it is, that makes us good or bad. 
 
 Nothing new. 
 
 NOTHING is new : we walk where others went. 
 Ther's no vice now, but has his president. 
 
 The Rainbow. 
 
 LOOK, how the rainbow doth appeare 
 But in one onely hemisphere : 
 So likewise after our disseace, 
 No more is seen the arch of peace. 
 That cov'nant's here ; the under-bow. 
 That nothing shoots, but war and woe. 
 
 The meddow Verse or Aniversart to Mistris 
 Bridget Lowman. 
 
 COME with the spring-time forth, fair maid, and 
 be 
 This year again, the medow's deity- 
 Yet ere ye enter, give us leave to set 
 Upon your head this flowry coronet : 
 To make this neat distinction from the rest ; 
 You are the prime, and princesse of the feast : 
 To which, with silver feet lead you the way, 
 While sweet-breath nimphs, attend on you this day.
 
 HESPERIDES. 149 
 
 This is your houre ; and best you may command, 
 Since you are lady of this fairie land. 
 Full mii'th wait on you ; and such mirth as shall 
 Cherrish the cheek, but make none blush at all. 
 
 The parting Veksb, the Feast there ended. 
 
 LOTH to depart, but yet at last, each one 
 Back must now go to's habitation : 
 Not knowing thus much, when we once do sever, 
 Whether or no, that we shall meet here ever. 
 As for my self, since time a thousand cares 
 And griefs hath fil'de upon my silver hairs ; 
 'Tis to be doubted whether I next yeer, 
 Or no, shall give ye a re-meeting here. 
 If die I must, then my last vow shall be, 
 You'l with a tear or two, remember me. 
 Your sometime poet ; but if fates do give 
 Me longer date, and more fresh springs to live : 
 Oft as your field, shall her old age renew, 
 Herrick shall make the meddow-verse for you. 
 
 Upon Judith. Epig. 
 
 JUDITH has cast her old-skin, and got new; 
 And walks fresh varnisht to the publick view. 
 Foule Judith was ; and foule she will be known, 
 For all this fair transfiguration. 
 
 T 
 
 Long and lazie. 
 
 HAT was the proverb. Let my mistresse be 
 Lasie to others, but be long to me. 
 
 Upon Ralph. Epig. 
 
 •<■ 
 
 CURSE not the mice, no grist of thine they eat : 
 But curse thy children, they consume thy wheat.
 
 150 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE EIGHT HONOURABLE, PhILIP, EaRLE OF 
 
 Pembroke, and Montgomerie. 
 
 HOW dull and dead are books, that cannot show 
 A Prince of Pembroke, and that Pembroke, you! 
 You, who are high born, and a lord no lesse 
 Free by your fate, then Fortune's mightinesse, 
 Who hug our poems, honour'd sir, and then 
 The paper gild, and Laureat the pen. 
 Nor suffer you the poets to sit cold. 
 But warm their wits, and turn their lines to gold . 
 Others there be, who righteously will swear 
 Those smooth-pac't numbers, amble every where ; 
 And these brave measures go a stately trot ; 
 Love those, like these ; regard, reward them not. 
 But you, my lord, are one, whose hand along 
 Goes with your mouth, or do's outrun yoiH- tongue ; 
 Paying before you praise ; and cockring wit, 
 Give both the gold and garland unto it. 
 
 An Htmne to Juno. 
 
 STATELY Goddesse, do thou please, 
 Who art chief at marriages, 
 But to dresse the bridall-bed. 
 When my love and I shall wed : 
 And a peacock proud shall be 
 Offerd up by us, to thee. 
 
 Upon IVIease. Epig. 
 
 MEASE brags of pullets which he eats : but 
 Mease 
 Ne'r yet set tooth in stump, or rump of these.
 
 HESPERIBES. 15] 
 
 Upon Sapho, sweetly plating, and sweetly 
 
 SINGING. 
 
 WHEN" thou do'st play, and sweetly sing. 
 Whether it be the voice or string, 
 Or bo th of them, that do agree 
 Thus to en-trance and ravish me : 
 This, this I know, I'm oft struck mute ; 
 And dye away upon thy lute. 
 
 Upon Paske a Draper. 
 
 PASKE, though his debt be due upon the day 
 Demands no money by a craving way ; 
 For why, sayes he, all debts and their arreares, 
 Have reference to the shoulders, not the eares. 
 
 Chop-Cherkt. 
 
 THOU gav'st me leave to kisse ; 
 Thou gav'st me leave to wooe ; 
 Thou mad'st me thinke by this, 
 And that, thou lov'dst me too. 
 
 But I shall ne'r forget, 
 How for to make thee merry ; 
 Thou mad'st me chop, but yet. 
 Another snapt the cherry. 
 
 To THE MOST LEARNED, WISE, AND ArCH- 
 
 Anti-quary, M. John Selden. 
 
 I WHO have favour'd many, come to be 
 Grac't, now at last, or glorifi'd by thee. 
 Loe, I, the lyrick prophet, who have set 
 On many a head the Delphick coronet. 
 Come unto thee for laurell, having spent. 
 My wreaths on those, who little gave or lent. 
 Give me the Daphne, that the world may know it, 
 Whom they neglected, thou hast crown'd a poet.
 
 152 HESPERIDES. 
 
 A city here of heroes I have made, 
 Upon the rock, whose firm foundation laid, 
 Shall never shrink, where making thine abode. 
 Live thou a Selden, that's a demi-god. 
 
 Upon himself. 
 
 npHOU shalt not all die ; for while Love's fire 
 -^ shines 
 
 Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines ; 
 And learn'd musicians shall to honour Herrick's 
 Fame, and his name, both set, and sing his lyricks. 
 
 Upon Wrinkles. 
 
 WRINKLES no more are, or no lesse, 
 Then beauty turn'd to sowernesse. 
 
 Upon Pbigg. 
 
 TDRIGG, when he comes to houses, oft doth use, 
 -■- Rather then faU, to steal from thence old shoes : 
 Sound or unsound, be they rent or whole, 
 Prigg bears away the body and the sole. 
 
 Upon Moon. 
 
 MOON is an usurer, whose gain, 
 Seldome or never, knows a wain, 
 Onely Moon's conscience, we confesse. 
 That ebs from pittie lesse and lesse. 
 
 Prat and prosper. 
 
 FIRST offer incense, then thy field and meads 
 Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads. 
 The spangling dew dreg'd o're the grasse shall be 
 Turn'd all to mell, and manna there for thee.
 
 HESPERIDES. 153 
 
 Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oile 
 Shall run, as rivers, all throughout thy soyl. 
 Wod'st thou to sincere-silver turn thy mold ? 
 Pray once, twice pray ; and turn thy ground to gold. 
 
 His Lacrimb ob Mirth, turn'd to Mourning. 
 
 CALL me no more. 
 As heretofore. 
 The musick of a feast : 
 Since now, alas, 
 The mirth, that was 
 In me, is dead or ceast. 
 
 Before I went 
 
 To banishment 
 Into the loathed west ; 
 
 I co'd rehearse 
 
 A lyrick verse, 
 And speak it with the best. 
 
 But time, ai me. 
 
 Has laid, I see. 
 My organ fast asleep ; 
 
 And turn'd my voice 
 
 Into the noise 
 Of those that sit and weep. 
 
 Upon Shift. 
 
 SHIFT now has cast his clothes : got all things 
 new; 
 Save but his hat, and that he cannot mew. 
 
 I 
 
 Upon Cuts. 
 
 F wounds in clothes, Cuts calls his rags, 'tis cleere, 
 His linings are the matter running there.
 
 154 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Gain and Gettings. 
 
 WHEN others gain much by the present cast, 
 The coblers getting time, is at the last. 
 
 To THE MOST FAIR AND LOVELY MiSTRIS, AnNE 
 
 SoAME, NOW Lady Abdie. 
 
 So smell those odours that do rise 
 From out the wealthy spiceries : 
 So smels the flowre of blooming clove ; 
 Or roses smother'd in the stove : 
 So smells the aire of spiced wine ; 
 Or essences of jessimine : 
 So smells the breath about the hives, 
 When well the work of hony thrives ; 
 And all the busie factours come 
 Laden with wax and hony home : 
 So smell those neat and woven bowers, 
 All over-archt with oringe flowers, 
 And almond blossoms, that do mix 
 To make rich these aromatikes : 
 So smell those bracelets, and those bands 
 Of amber chaft between the hands, 
 When thus enkindled they transpire 
 A noble perfume from the fire. 
 The wine of cherries, and to these, 
 The cooling breath of respasses ; 
 The smell of mornings milk, and cream ; 
 Butter of cowslips mixt with them ; 
 Of rosted warden, or bak'd peare. 
 These are not to be reckon'd here ; 
 When as the meanest part of her, 
 Smells like the maiden-pomander. 
 Thus sweet she smells, or what can be 
 More lik'd by her, or lov'd by mee.
 
 HESPEBIDES. 155 
 
 Upon his Kinswoman Mistris Elizabeth Herrick. 
 
 SWEET virgin, that I do not set 
 The pillars up of weeping jet, 
 Or mournfuU marble ; let thy shade 
 Not wrathful! seem, or fright the maide, 
 Who hither at her wonted howers 
 Shall come to strew thy earth with flowers. 
 No, know, blest maide, when there's not one 
 Remainder left of brasse or stone, 
 Thy living epitaph shall be. 
 Though lost in them, yet found in me. 
 Dear, in thy bed of roses, then. 
 Till this world shall dissolve as men. 
 Sleep, while we hide thee from the light, 
 Drawing thy curtains round ; Good night. 
 
 A Panegebick to Sir Lewis Pembebton. 
 
 TILL I shall come again, let this suffice, 
 I send my salt, my sacrifice 
 To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as farre 
 
 As to thy genius and thy larre ; 
 To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchin. 
 
 The fat-fed smoking temple, which in 
 The wholsome savour of thy mighty chines 
 
 Invites to supper him who dines. 
 Where laden spits, warp't with large ribbs of beefe, 
 
 Not represent, but give reliefe 
 To the lanke-stranger, and the sowre swain ; 
 
 Where both may feed, and come againe : 
 For no black-bearded vigil from thy doore 
 
 Beats with a button'd-staife the poore : 
 But from thy warm-love-hatching gates each may 
 
 Take friendly morsels, and there stay 
 To sun his thin-clad members, if he likes, 
 
 For thou no porter keep'st who strikes.
 
 156 HESPERIDES. 
 
 No commer to thy roofe his guest-rite wants ; 
 
 Or staying there, is scourg'd with taunts 
 Of some rough groom, who, yirkt with corns, sayes, 
 Sir, 
 
 Y'ave dipt too long i'th vinegar ; 
 And with our broth and bread, and bits ; sir friend, 
 
 Y'ave fared well, pray make an end ; 
 Two dayes y'ave larded here ; a third, yee know, 
 
 Makes guests and fish smell strong ; pray go 
 You to some other chimney, and there take 
 
 Essay of other giblets ; make 
 Merry at another's hearth ; y'are here 
 
 Welcome as thunder to our beere : 
 Manners knowes distance, and a man unrude 
 
 Wo'd soon recoile, and not intrude 
 His stomach to a second meale. No, no. 
 
 Thy house, well fed and taught, can show 
 No such crab'd vizard : thou hast learnt thy train, 
 
 With heart and hand to entertain : 
 And by the armes-full, with a brest unhid, 
 
 As the old race of mankind did. 
 When either's heart, and cither's hand did strive 
 
 To be the nearer relative : 
 Thou do'st redeeme those times ; and what was lost 
 
 Of antient honesty, may boast 
 It keeps a growth in thee ; and so will runne 
 
 A course in thy fames-pledge, thy sonne. 
 Thus, like a Roman tribune, thou thy gate 
 
 Early setts ope to feast, and late : 
 Keeping no currish waiter to affright, 
 
 With blasting eye, the appetite. 
 Which fain would waste upon thy cates, but that 
 
 The trencher-creature marketh what 
 Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by 
 
 Some private pinch tels danger's nie, 
 A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites 
 
 Skin deepe into the porke, or lights 
 Upon some part of kid, as if mistooke,
 
 HESPERIDES. 157 
 
 Wlien checked by the butler's look. 
 No, no, thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund beere 
 
 Is not reserv'd for Trebius here, 
 But all, who at thy table seated are, 
 
 Find equall freedome, equall fare ; 
 And thou, like to that hospitable god, 
 
 Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode 
 To eate thy bullocks thighs, thy veales, thy fat 
 
 Weathers, and never grudged at. 
 The phesant, partridge, gotwit, reeve, ruffe, raile. 
 
 The cock, the curlew, and the quaile ; 
 These, and thy choicest viands do extend 
 
 Their taste unto the lower end 
 Of thy glad table : not a dish more known 
 
 To thee, then unto any one : 
 But as thy meate, so thy immortall wine 
 
 Makes the smirk face of each to shine, 
 And spring fresh rose-buds, while the salt, the wit 
 
 Flowes from the wine, and graces it : 
 While Reverence, waiting at the bashfull board, 
 
 Honours my lady and my lord. 
 No scurrile jest; no open sceane is laid 
 
 Here, for to make the face affraid ; 
 But temp'rate mirth dealt forth, and so discreet- 
 ly that it makes the meate more sweet ; 
 And adds perfumes unto the wine, which thou 
 
 Do'st rather poure forth, then allow 
 By cruse and measure ; thus devoting wine, 
 
 As the Canary Isles were thine : 
 But with that wisdome, and that method, as 
 
 No one that's there his guilty glasse 
 Drinks of distemper, or ha's cause to cry 
 
 Repentance to his liberty. 
 No, thou know'st order, ethicks, and ha's read 
 
 All oeconomicks, know'st to lead 
 A house-dance neatly, and can'st truly show, 
 
 How farre a figure ought to go, 
 
 O O CD ' 
 
 Forward, or backward, side-ward, and what pace
 
 158 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Can give, and what retract a grace ; 
 What gesture, courtship ; comliness agrees, 
 
 With those thy primitive decrees, 
 To give subsistance to thy house, and proofe, 
 
 What Genii support thy roofe, 
 Goodnes and greatnes ; not the oaken piles ; 
 
 For these, and marbles have their whiles 
 To last, but not their ever : Vertues hand 
 
 It is, which builds, 'gainst Fate to stand. 
 Such is thy house, whose firrae foundations trust 
 
 Is more in thee, then in her dust, 
 Or depth, these last may yeeld, and yearly shrinke. 
 
 When what is strongly built, no chinke 
 Or yawning rupture can the same devoure, 
 
 But fixt it stands, by her own power. 
 And well-laid bottome, on the iron and rock, 
 
 Which tryes, and counter-stands the shock. 
 And ramme of time, and by vexation growes 
 
 The stronger : Vertiie dies when foes 
 Are. wanting to her exercise, hut great 
 
 And large she spreads by dust, and sweat 
 Safe stand thy walls, and thee, and so both will. 
 
 Since neithers height was rais'd by th'ill 
 Of others ; since no stud, no stone, no piece. 
 
 Was rear'd up by the poore-man's fleece : 
 No widowes tenement was rackt to guild 
 
 Or fret thy seeling, or to build 
 A sweating-closset, to annoint the silke- 
 
 soft-skin, or bath in asses milke : 
 No orphans pittance, left him, serv'd to set 
 
 The pillars up of lasting jet, 
 For which their cryes might beate against thine eares. 
 
 Or in the dampe jet read their teares. 
 No planke from hallowed altar, do's appeale 
 
 To yond' Star-chamber, or do's seale 
 A curse to thee, or thine; but all things even 
 
 Make for thy peace, and pace to heaven. 
 Go on directly so, as just men may
 
 HESPERIDES. 159 
 
 A thousand times, more sweare, then say, 
 This is that princely Pemberton, who can 
 
 Teach man to keepe a god in man : 
 And when wise poets shall search out to see 
 
 Good men, They find them all in thee. 
 
 To HIS Valentine, on S. Valentine's day. 
 
 /^FT have I heard both youths and virgins say, 
 ^^ Birds chuse their mates, and couple too, this 
 
 day ; 
 But by their flight I never can divine, 
 When I shall couple with my Valentine. 
 
 D 
 
 Upon Doll. Epig. 
 
 OLL she so scone began the wanton trade; 
 She ne'r remembers that she was a maide. 
 
 Upon Skrew. Epig. 
 
 SKREW lives by shifts ; yet sweares by no small 
 oathes ; 
 For all his shifts, he cannot shift his clothes. 
 
 L 
 
 Upon Linnit. Epig. 
 
 INXIT playes rarely on the lute, we know ; 
 And sweetly sings, but yet his breath sayes no. 
 
 Upon M. Ben, Johnson. Epig. 
 
 A FTER the rare arch-poet Johnson dy'd, 
 ■'■ *- The sock grew loathsome, and the buskins pride, 
 Together with the stages glory stood 
 Each like a poore and pitied widowhood. 
 The cirque prophan'd was ; and all postures rackt : 
 For men did strut, and stride, and stare, not act.
 
 160 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Then temper flew from words ; and men did squeake, 
 
 Looke red, and blow, and bluster, but not speake : 
 
 No holy-rage, or frantick-fires did stirre. 
 
 Or flash about the spacious theater. 
 
 No clap of hands, or shout, or praises -proofe 
 
 Did crack the play-house sides, or cleave her roofe. 
 
 Artlesse the sceane was ; and that monstrous sin 
 
 Of deep and arrant ignorance came in ; 
 
 Such ignorance as theirs was, who once hist 
 
 At thy unequal'd play, the Alchymist : 
 
 Oh fie upon 'em ! Lastly too, all witt 
 
 In utter darkenes did, and still will sit 
 
 Sleeping the lucklesse age out, till that she 
 
 Her resurrection ha's again with thee. 
 
 Another. 
 
 nPHOU had'st the wreath before, now take the 
 -L tree ; 
 
 That henceforth none be laurel crown'd but thee. 
 
 To HIS Nephew, to be prosperous in his Art 
 OF Painting. 
 
 ON, as thou hast begunne, brave youth, and get 
 The palme from Urbin, Titian, Tintarret, 
 Brugel and Coxu, and the workes out-doe. 
 Of Holben, and that mighty Ruben too. 
 So draw, and paint, as none may do the like, 
 No, not the glory of the world, Vandilce. 
 
 Upon Gi^asse. Epig. 
 
 GLASSE, outof deepe, and out of desp'rate want, 
 Turn'd, from a papist here, a predicant. 
 A vicarige at last Tom Glasse got here. 
 Just upon five and thirty pounds a yeare. 
 Adde to that thirty five, but five pounds more, 
 He'l turn a papist, rancker then before.
 
 HESPERIDES. 161 
 
 A Vow TO Mars. 
 
 OTORE of courage to me grant, 
 "^ Now Fm turn'd a combatant : 
 Helpe me so, that I my shield, 
 Fighting, lose not in the field. 
 That's the greatest shame of all, 
 That in warfare can befall. 
 Do but this ; and there shall be 
 Oifer'd up a wolfe to thee. 
 
 To HIS J\Iaid Prew. 
 
 THESE summer-birds did with thy master stay ^^ 
 
 The times of warmth ; but then they flew away ; 
 Leaving their poet, being now grown old, 
 Expos'd to all the comming winters cold. 
 But thou, kind Prew, did'st with my fates abide, 
 As well the winter's, as the summer's tide : 
 For which thy love, live with thy master here, 
 Not two, but all the seasons of the yeare. 
 
 A Canticle to Apollo. 
 
 T3LAY, Phoebus, on thy lute ; 
 
 -■- And we will all sit mute : 
 By listning to thy lire, 
 That sets all eares on fire. 
 
 Hark, harke, the god do's play ! 
 And as he leads the way 
 Through heaven, the very spheres, 
 As men, turne all to eares. 
 
 A JUST Man. 
 
 JUST man's like a rock that turnes the wroth 
 Of all the raging waves, into a froth, 
 
 M 
 
 A
 
 s 
 
 HESPEBIDES. 
 
 Upon a hoarse Singer. 
 
 ING me to death ; for till thy voice be cleare, 
 'Twill never please the pallate of mine eare. 
 
 How Pansies or Hearts-ease came first. 
 
 F ROLLICK virgins once these were. 
 Over-loving, living here : 
 Being here their ends deny'd 
 Ranne for sweet-hearts mad, and dy'd. 
 Love in pitie of their teares, 
 And their losse in blooming yeares ; 
 For their restlesse here-spent houres, 
 Gave them hearts-ease turn'd to flow'rs. 
 
 To HIS PECULIAR Frienb Sir Edwaed Fish, 
 Knight Baronet. 
 
 SINCE for thy full deserts, with all the rest 
 Of these chaste spirits, that are here possest 
 Of life eternall, time has made thee one, 
 For growth in this my rich plantation : 
 Live here : but know 'twas vertue, & not chance. 
 That gave thee this so high inheritance. 
 Keepe it for ever ; grounded with the good, 
 Who hold fast here an endlesse lively -hood. 
 
 Labr's Portion, and the Poet's Part. 
 
 AT my homely country-seat, 
 I have there a little wheat ; 
 Which I worke to meale, and make 
 Therewithall a holy-cake : 
 Part of which I give to Larr, 
 Part is my peculiar.
 
 HESPERIDES. 1G3 
 
 Upon Man. 
 
 A /TAN is compos'd here of a two-fold part ; 
 iVX The first of nature, and the next of art : 
 Art presupposes nature ; Nature shee 
 Prepares the way to man's docility. 
 
 Liberty. 
 
 '' I ""HOSE ills that mortall men endure 
 J- So long are capable of cure, 
 As they of freedome may be sure : 
 But that deni'd ; a griefe, though small, 
 Shakes the whole roofe, or mines all. 
 
 Lots to be liked. 
 
 T EARN this of me, where e'r thy lot doth fall ; 
 -*— ' Short lot, or not, to be content with all. 
 
 Griefes. 
 
 JOVE may afford us thousands of reliefs ; 
 Since man expos'd is to a world of griefs. 
 
 Upon Eei.es. Epig. 
 
 EELES winds and turnes, and cheats and steales ; 
 yet Eeles 
 Driving these sharking trades, is out at heels. 
 
 The Dreame. 
 
 BY dream I saw, one of the three 
 Sisters of Fate appeare to me. 
 Close to my beds side she did stand 
 Shewing me there a fire brand ; 
 She told me too, as that did spend, 
 So drew my life unto an end.
 
 164 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Three quarters were consum'd of it ; 
 Onely remaind a little bit, 
 Which will be burnt up by and by, 
 Then Julia weep, for I must dy. 
 
 Upon Raspe. Epig. 
 
 T3 ASPE playes at nine-holes ; and 'tis known he 
 
 Many a teaster by his game, and bets : 
 But of his gettings there's but little sign ; 
 When one hole wasts more then he gets by nine. 
 
 Upon Center a Spectacle-maker with a 
 FLAT Nose. 
 
 CENTER is known weak sighted, and he sells 
 To others store of helpfull spectacles. 
 Why weres he none ? Because we may suppose, 
 Where Leaven wants, there Levill lies the nose. 
 
 Clothes do but cheat and cousen us. 
 
 AWAY with silks, away with lawn, 
 lie have no sceans, or curtains drawn : 
 Give me my mistresse, as she is, 
 Drest in her nak't simplicities : 
 For as my heart, ene so mine eye 
 Is wone with flesh, not drapery. 
 
 To Dianeme. 
 
 SHEW me thy feet ; shew me thy legs, thy thighes ; 
 Shew me those fleshie principalities ; 
 Shew me that hill (where smiling Love doth sit) 
 Having a living fountain imder it. 
 Shew me thy waste ; then let me there withall, 
 By the assention of thy lawn, see all.
 
 HESPEBIDES. 165 
 
 Upon Electra. 
 
 A "^ THEN out of bed my love doth spring, 
 
 » * ' Tis but as clay a kindling : 
 But when she's up and fully drest, 
 'Tis then broad day throughout the east. 
 
 To HIS BOOKE. 
 
 HAVE I not blest thee ? Then go forth ; uoi- 
 fear 
 Or spice, or fish, or fire, or close-stools here. 
 But with thy fair fates leading thee, go on 
 With thy most white predestination. 
 Nor thinke these ages that do hoarcely sing 
 The farting tanner, and familiar king ; 
 The dancing frier, tatter'd in the bush ; 
 Those monstrous lies of little Robin Rush : 
 Tom Chipperfeild, and pritty-lisping Ned, 
 That doted on a maide of gingerbred : 
 The flying pilcher, and the frisking dace, 
 With all the rabble of Tim-Trundells race, 
 (Bred from the dung-hils, and adulterous rhimes,) 
 Shall live, and thou not superlast all times ? 
 No, no, thy stars have destin'd thee to see 
 The whole world die, and turn to dust with thee. 
 He's greedie of his life., who loill not fall. 
 When as a publick ruine bears doion all. 
 
 Of Love. 
 
 I DO not love, nor can it be 
 Love will in vain spend shafts on me : 
 I did this god-head once defie ; 
 Since which I freeze, but cannot frie. 
 Yet out, alas ! the death's the same, 
 Kil'd by a frost or by a flame.
 
 166 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Himself. 
 
 IDISLIKT but even now ; 
 Now I love I know not how. 
 Was I idle, and that while 
 Was I fier'd with a smile ? 
 He too work, or pray ; and then 
 I shall quite dislike agen. 
 
 Another. 
 
 LOVE he that will ; it best likes me, 
 To have my neck from Love's yoke free. 
 
 Upon Skinns. Epig. 
 
 SKINNS he dined well to day ; how do you think ? 
 His nails they were his meat, his reume the 
 drink. 
 
 Upon Pievish. Epig. 
 
 PIEVISH doth boast, that he's the very first 
 Of English poets, and *tis thought the worst. 
 
 Upon Jolly and Jillt. Epig. 
 
 JOLLY and Jillie, bite and scratch all day. 
 But yet get children, as the neighbours say. 
 The reason is, though all the day they fight, 
 They cling and close, some minutes of the night. 
 
 The mad Maids song. 
 
 GOOD morrow to the day so fair ; 
 Good morning, sir, to you : 
 Good morrow to mine own torn hair 
 Bedabled with the dew.
 
 HESPERIDES. 167 
 
 Good morning to this prim-rose too ; 
 
 Good morrow to each maid ; 
 That will with flowers the tomb bestrew, 
 
 Wherein my love Is laid. 
 
 Ah ! woe is mee, woe, woe is me, 
 
 Alack and welladay ! 
 For pitty, sir, find out that bee, 
 
 AVhich bore my love away. 
 
 rie seek him in your bonnet brave ; 
 
 He seek him in your eyes ; 
 Nay, now I think th'ave made his grave 
 
 rth'bed of strawburies. 
 
 He seek him there ; I know, ere this, 
 The cold, cold earth doth shake him ; 
 
 But I will go, or send a kisse 
 By you, sir, to awake him. 
 
 Pray hurt him not ; though he be dead. 
 He knowes well who do love him, 
 
 And who with green-turfes reare his head. 
 And who do rudely move him. 
 
 He's soft and tender (pray take heed) 
 With bands of cow-slips bind him ; 
 
 And bring him home ; but 'tis decreed, 
 That I shall never find him. 
 
 To Springs and Fountains. 
 
 I HEARD ye co'd coole heat; and came 
 With hope you would allay the same : 
 Thrice I have washt, but feel no cold, 
 Nor find that true, which was foretold. 
 Me thinks like mine, your pulses beat ; 
 And labour with unequall heat : 
 Cure, cure your selves, for I discrie, 
 Ye boil with love, as well as I.
 
 168 HESPBRIDES. 
 
 IJpoH Julia's unlacing her self. 
 
 *' I ^ELL, if thou canst, and truly, whence doth come 
 -"- This camphire, storax, spiknard, galbanum : 
 These musks, these ambers, and those other smells. 
 Sweet as the vestrie of the oracles. 
 He tell thee ; while my Julia did unlace 
 Her silken bodies, but a breathing space : 
 The passive aire such odour then assum'd, 
 As when to Jove great Juno goes perfum'd. 
 Whose pure-immortall body doth transmit 
 A scent, that fills both heaven and earth with it. 
 
 To Bacchus, a Canticle. 
 
 WHITHER dost thou whorry me, 
 Bacchus, being full of thee ? 
 This way, that way, that way, this, 
 Here, and there a fresh love is. 
 That doth like me, this doth please ; 
 Thus a thousand mistresses, 
 I have now ; yet I alone. 
 Having all, injoy not one. 
 
 The Lawne. 
 
 WO'D I see lawn, clear as the heaven, and thin ? 
 It sho'd be onely in my Julia's skin : 
 Which so betrayes her blood, as we discover 
 The blush of cherries, when a lawn's cast over. 
 
 The Frankincense. 
 
 WHEN my offring next I make. 
 Be thy hand the hallowed cake ; 
 And thy brest the altar, whence 
 Love may smell the frankincense.
 
 N 
 
 HESPEBIDES. 169 
 
 Upon Patrick a footman. Epig. 
 
 J OW Patrick with his footmanship has done, 
 His eyes and ears strive which sho'd fastest run. 
 
 o 
 
 Upon Bridget. Epig. 
 
 F foure teeth onely Bridget was possest; 
 Two she spat out, a cough forc't out the rest. 
 
 To Stcamores. 
 
 T 'M sick of love ; O let me lie 
 
 J- Under your shades, to sleep or die ! 
 
 Either is welcome ; so I have 
 
 Or here my bed, or here my grave. 
 
 Why do you sigh, and sob, and keep 
 
 Time with the tears, that I do weep ? 
 
 Say, have ye sence, or do you prove 
 
 What crucifixions are in love ? 
 
 I know ye do ; and that's the why, 
 
 You sigh for love, as well as I. 
 
 A Pastorall sung to the King : 
 Montana, Silvio, and Mirtillo, Shepheards. 
 
 Mon. 13 AD are the times. Sil. And wors then 
 
 -*—' they are we. 
 
 Mon. Troth, bad are both ; worse fruit, and ill the 
 tree : 
 The feast of shepheards fail. Sil. None crowns the 
 
 cup 
 Of wassaile now, or sets the quintell up : 
 And he, who us'd to leade the country-round, 
 Youthful! Mirtillo, here he comes, grief drownd. 
 Ambo. Lets cheer him up. Sil. Behold him weep- 
 ing ripe.
 
 170 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Mirt. Ah ! Amarillis, farewell mirth and pipe ; 
 Since thou art gone, no more I mean to play, 
 To these smooth lawns, my mirthfuU roundelay. 
 Dear Amarillis! Mon. Hark! Sil. mark: Mir. 
 
 this earth grew sweet 
 Where, Amarillis, thou didst set thy feet. 
 
 Ambo. Poor pittied youth ! Mir. And here the 
 breth of kine 
 And sheep, grew more sweet, by that breth of thine. 
 This flock of wooll, and this rich lock of hair, 
 This ball of cow-slips, these she gave me here. 
 
 Sil. "Words sweet as love it self. Montano, hark. 
 
 Mirt. This way she came, and this way too she went; 
 How each thing smells divinely redolent ! 
 Like to a field of beans, when newly blown ; 
 Or like a medow being lately mown. 
 
 Mon. A sweet-sad passion. 
 
 Mirt. In dewie-mornings when she came this way, 
 Sweet bents wode bow, to give my love the day : 
 And when at night, she folded had her sheep, 
 Daysies wo'd shut, and closing, sigh and weep. 
 Besides, ai me ! since she went hence to dwell, 
 The voices daughter nea'r spake syllable. 
 But she is gone. Sil. Mirtillo, tell us whether, 
 
 Mirt. Where she and I shall never meet together. 
 
 Mon. Fore-fend it Pan, and Pales do thou please 
 To odve an end: Mir. To what? Sil. such griefs 
 as these. 
 
 Mirt. Never, O never ! Still I may endure 
 The wound I suffer, never find a cure. 
 
 Mont. Love for thy sake will bring her to these hills 
 And dales again : Mir. No I will languish still ; 
 And all the while my part shall be to weepe ; 
 And with my sighs, call home my bleating sheep : 
 And in the rind of every comely tree 
 He carve thy name, and in that name kisse thee : 
 
 Mon. Set with the sunne, thy woes : Sil. The 
 day grows old :
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 171 
 
 I 
 
 And time it is our full-fed flocks to fold. 
 
 Chor. The shades grow great ; but greater growes 
 our sorrow, 
 
 But lets go steepe 
 Our eyes in sleepe ; 
 And meet to weepe 
 
 To morrow. 
 
 The Poet loves a Mistkesse, but not to mabby. 
 
 DO not love to wed, 
 
 Though I do like to wooe ; 
 And for a maidenhead 
 He beg, and buy it too. 
 
 He praise, and He approve 
 Those maids that never vary ; ' 
 And fervently He love ; 
 But yet I would not marry. 
 
 He hug, He kisse. He play. 
 And cock -like hens He tread : 
 And sport it any way ; 
 But in the bridall bed : 
 
 For why ? that man is poore, 
 ^^^lo hath but one of many ; 
 But crown'd he is with store, 
 That single may have any. 
 
 Why then, say, what is he, 
 To freedome so unknown. 
 Who having two or three. 
 Will be content with one ? 
 
 Upon Flimset. Epig. 
 
 A A /"HY walkes Nick Flimsey like a male-content ? 
 
 ♦^ » Is it because his money all is spent ? 
 No, but because the ding-thrift now is poore. 
 And knowes not where i'th world to borrow more.
 
 172 RESPERIBES. 
 
 Upon Shewbread. Epig. 
 
 LAST night thou didst invite me home to eate ; 
 And shew'st me there much plate, but little 
 meate. 
 Prithee, when next thou do'st invite, barre state, 
 And give me meate, or give me else thy plate. 
 
 The Willow Gakland. 
 
 A WILLOW garland thou did'st send 
 Perfum'd, last day, to me : 
 Which did but only this portend, 
 I was forsooke by thee. 
 
 Since so it is ; lie tell thee what, 
 
 To morrow thou shalt see 
 Me weare the willow ; after that, 
 
 To dye upon the tree. 
 
 As beasts unto the altars go 
 
 With garlands drest, so I 
 Will, with my willow-wreath also, 
 
 Come forth and sweetly dye. 
 
 A Htmne to Clipsebt Crew. 
 
 TWAS not Lov's dart ; 
 Or any blow 
 Of want, or foe. 
 Did wound my heart 
 With an eternall smart : 
 
 But only you. 
 My sometimes known 
 Companion, 
 My dearest Crew, 
 That me unkindly slew.
 
 HESPERIDES. 173 
 
 May your fault dye, 
 And have no name 
 In bookes of fame ; 
 Or let it lye 
 Forgotten now, as I. 
 
 We parted are, 
 And now no more, 
 As heretofore. 
 By jocund Larr, 
 Shall be familiar. 
 
 But though we sever 
 My Crew shall see, 
 That I will be 
 Here faithlesse never ; 
 But love my Clipseby ever. 
 
 Upon Roots. Epig. 
 
 T3 OOTS had no money ; yet he went o'th score 
 ^ ^ For a wrought purse ; can any tell wherefore ? 
 Say, what sho'd Roots do with a purse in print. 
 That h'ad nor gold nor silver to put in't ? 
 
 Upon Craw. 
 
 CRAW cracks in sirrop ; and do's stinking say. 
 Who can hold that, my friends, that will away ? 
 
 w 
 
 Observation. 
 
 110 to the north, or south, doth set 
 His bed, male children shall beget. 
 
 Empires. 
 
 EMPHIES of kings, are now, and ever were, 
 As Salust saith, co-incident to feare
 
 174 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Felicity, quick op flight. 
 
 TIJP VERY time seemes short to be, 
 -^— ' That's measur'd by felicity : 
 But one halfe houre, that's made up here 
 With griefs ; seemes longer then a yeare. 
 
 Putrefaction. 
 
 PUTREFACTION is the end 
 Of all that Nature doth entend. 
 
 w 
 
 Passioh. 
 
 ERE there not a matter known, 
 There wo'd be no passion. 
 
 Jack and Jill. 
 
 SINCE Jack and Jill both wicked be ; 
 It seems a wonder unto me, 
 That they no better do agree. 
 
 Upon Parson Beanes. 
 
 OLD Parson Beanes hunts six dayes of the week, 
 And on the seaventh, he has his notes to seek. 
 Six dayes he hollows so much breath away. 
 That on the seaventh, he can nor preach, or pray. 
 
 I 
 
 The Crowd and Company. 
 
 N holy meetings, there a man may be 
 One of the crowd, not of the companie. 
 
 Short and long both likes. 
 
 THIS lady's short, that mistresse she is tail; 
 But lonsr or short, I'm well content with all.
 
 HESPERIDES. 175 
 
 PoLLiciE IN Princes. 
 
 nPHAT princes may possesse a surer seat, 
 ^ 'Tis fit they make no one with them too great. 
 
 Upon Rook. Epig. 
 
 ROOK he sells feathers, yet he still doth crie 
 Fie on this pride, this female vanltie. 
 Thus, though the Rooke do's raile against the sin, 
 He loves the gain that vanity brings in. 
 
 Upon the Nipples of Julia's Bkeast. 
 
 HAVE ye beheld, with much delight, 
 A red-rose peeping through a white ? 
 Or else a cherrie, double grac't, 
 Within a lillie ? Center plac't ? 
 Or ever mark't the pretty beam, 
 A strawberry shewes halfe drown'd in creame ? 
 Or seen rich rubies blushing through 
 A pure smooth pearle, and orient too ? 
 So like to this, nay all the rest, 
 Is each neate niplet of her breast. 
 
 To Daisies, not to shut so soone. 
 
 SHUT not so soon ; the dull-ey'd night 
 Ha's not as yet begunne 
 To make a seisure on the light, 
 Or to seale up the sun. 
 
 No marigolds yet closed are ; 
 
 No shadowes great appeare ; 
 Nor doth the early shepheards starre 
 
 Shine like a spangle here. 
 
 Stay but till my Julia close 
 
 Her life-begetting eye ; 
 And let the whole world then dispose 
 
 It selfe to live or dye.
 
 176 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE LITTLE SpINNERS. 
 
 YEE pretty huswives, wo'd ye know 
 The worke that I wo'd put ye to ? 
 This, this it sho'd be, for to spin, 
 A lawn for me, so fine and thin, 
 As it might serve me for my skin. 
 For cruell Love ha's me so whipt, 
 That of my skin, I all am stript ; 
 And shall dispaire, that any art 
 Can ease the rawnesse, or the smart ; 
 Unlesse you skin again each part. 
 Which mercy if you will but do, 
 I call aU maids to witnesse too 
 What here I promise, that no broom 
 Shall now, or ever after come 
 To wrong a spinner or her loome. 
 
 Oberon's Palace. 
 
 AFTER the feast, my Shapcot, see. 
 The fairie court I give to thee : 
 Where we'le present our Oberon led 
 Halfe tipsie to the fairie bed, 
 Where Mab he finds ; who there doth lie 
 Not without mickle majesty. 
 Which, done ; and thence remov'd the light, 
 We'l wish both them and thee, good night. 
 
 Full as a bee with thyme, and red, 
 As cherry harvest, now high fed 
 For lust and action ; on he'l go. 
 To lye with Mab, though all say no. 
 Lust ha's no eares ; he's sharpe as thorn ; 
 And fretfuU, carries hay in's home. 
 And lightning in his eyes ; and flings 
 Among the elves, if mov'd, the stings 
 Of peltish wasps ; we'l know his guard 
 Kings though tKare hated, will be fear d.
 
 HESPERIDES. 177 
 
 Wine lead him on. Thus to a grove, 
 Sometimes devoted unto Love, 
 Tinseld with twilight, he, and they 
 Lead by the shine of snails ; a way 
 Beat with their num'rous feet, which by 
 Many a neat perplexity, 
 Many a turn, and man' a crosse- 
 Track they redeem a bank of mosse 
 Spungie and swelling, and farre more 
 Soft then the finest Lemster ore. 
 Mildly di^parkling, like those fiers, 
 Wliich break from the injeweld tyres 
 Of curious brides ; or like those mites 
 Of candi'd dew in moony nights. 
 
 Upon this convex, all the flowers. 
 
 Nature begets by th' sun, and showers. 
 
 Are to a wilde digestion brought, 
 
 As if Love's sampler here was wrought : 
 
 Or Citherea's ceston, which 
 
 All with temptation doth bewitch. 
 
 Sweet aires move here ; and more divine 
 
 Made by the breath of great ey'd-kine, 
 
 Who as they lowe empearl with milk 
 
 The four-leav'd grasse, or mosse-like silk. 
 
 The breath of munkies met to mix 
 
 With musk-flies, are th' aromaticks. 
 
 Which cense this arch ; and here and there. 
 
 And farther off, and every where. 
 
 Throughout that brave mosaick yard 
 
 Those picks or diamonds in the card : 
 
 With peeps of harts, of club and spade, 
 
 Are here most neatly inter-laid. 
 
 Many a counter, many a die. 
 
 Half rotten, and without an eye, 
 
 Lies here abouts ; and for to pave 
 
 The excellency of this cave, 
 
 Squirrils' and children's teeth late shed, 
 
 Are neatly here enchequercd.
 
 178 HESPERIDES. 
 
 With brownest toadstones, and the guin 
 That shines upon the blewer plum. 
 The nails fain off by whit-flawes : Art's 
 Wise hand enchasing here those warts, 
 Which we to others, from our selves. 
 Sell, and brought hither by the elves. 
 The tempting mole, stoln from the neck 
 Of the shie virgin, seems to deck 
 The holy entrance; where within 
 The roome is hung with the blew skin 
 Of shifted snake : enfreez'd throughout 
 With eyes of peacocks trains, & trout- 
 Hies curious wings ; and these among 
 Those silver-pence, that cut the tongue 
 Of the red infant, neatly hung. 
 The glow-wormes eyes ; the shining scales 
 Of silv'rie fish ; wheat-strawes, the snailes 
 Soft candle-light ; the kitling's eyne ; 
 Corrupted wood ; serve here for shine. 
 Xo glaring light of bold-fac't day, 
 Or other over radiant ray 
 Ransacks this roome ; but what weak beams 
 Can make reflected from these jems. 
 And multiply ; such is the light, 
 But ever doubtfuU day, or night. ' 
 By this quaint taper-light he winds 
 His errours up ; and now he finds 
 His moon-tann'd Mab, as somewhat sick, 
 And, Love knowes, tender as a chick. 
 Upon six plump dandillions, high- 
 Rear'd, lyes her elvish-majestie : 
 Whose woollie-bubbles seem'd to drowne 
 Hir Mab-ship in obedient downe. 
 For either sheet, was spread the caule 
 That doth the infants face enthrall, 
 When it is born : (by some enstyl'd 
 The luckie omen of the child) 
 And next to these two blankets ore-
 
 HESPERIDES. 179 
 
 Cast of the finest gossamore. 
 And then a rug of cardeil wooll, 
 Which, spunge-like drinking in the dull- 
 Light of the moon, seem'd to comply, 
 Cloud-like, the daintie deitie. 
 Thus soft she lies : and over-head 
 A spinners circle is bespread. 
 With cob-web-curtains : from the roof 
 So neatly sunck, as that no proof 
 Of any tackling can declare 
 ^Vhat gives it hanging in the aire. 
 The fringe about this, are those threds 
 Broke at the losse of maiden-heads : 
 And all behung with these pure pearls, 
 Dropt from the eyes of ravisht girles 
 Or writhing brides ; when, panting, they 
 Give unto love the straiter way. 
 For musick now ; he has the cries 
 Of fained-lost-vii-ginitles ; 
 The which the elves make to excite 
 A more unconquer'd appetite. 
 The king's undrest ; and now upon 
 The gnats-watch-word the elves are gone. 
 And now the bed, and Mab possest 
 Of this great-little-kingly-guest. 
 We'll nobly think, what's to be done, 
 He'll do no doubt ; This flax is spun. 
 
 To HIS PECULIAR FrIEND MaSTER ThOMAS 
 
 Shapcott, Lawyer. 
 
 VE paid thee, what I promis'd ; that's not all ; 
 
 Besides I give thee here a verse that shall 
 (When hence thy circum-mor tall-part is gon) 
 Arch-like, hold up, thy name's inscription. 
 Brave men cant die ; whose candid actions are 
 Writ in the poets endlesse-kalendar : 
 
 I
 
 180 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Whose velome, and whose volumne is the skie. 
 And the pure starres the praising poetrie. 
 
 Farewell. 
 
 To Julia in the Temple. 
 
 T) ESIDES us two, i' th' temple here's not one 
 
 -*-^ To make up now a congregation. 
 
 Let's to the altar of perfumes then go, 
 
 An d say short prayers ; and when we have done so, 
 
 Then we shall see, how in a little space, 
 
 Saints will come in to fill each pew and place. 
 
 To Oenone. 
 
 WHAT conscience, say, is it in thee 
 When I a heart had one, 
 To take away that heart from me. 
 And to retain thy own ? 
 
 For shame or pitty now encline 
 
 To play a loving part ; 
 Either to send me kindly thine, 
 
 Or give me back my heart. 
 
 Covet not both ; but if thou dost 
 Resolve to part with neither ; 
 
 Why ! yet to shew that thou art just. 
 Take me and mine together. 
 
 e^ 
 
 I 
 
 His Weaknesse in Woes. 
 
 CANNOT suffer ; and in this, my part 
 Of patience wants. Grief breaks the stoutest 
 heart. 
 
 Fame makes us forward. 
 
 TO print our poems, the propulsive cause 
 Is fame, the breath of popular applause.
 
 HESPERIDES. 181 
 
 To Geoves. 
 
 \/'EE silent shades, whose each tree here 
 -■- Some relique of a saint doth weare : 
 Vfho for some sweet-hearts sake, did prove 
 The fire, and martyrdome of love. 
 Here is the legend of those saints 
 That di'd for love ; and their complaints : 
 Their wounded hearts ; and names we find 
 Encarv'd ujion the leaves and rind. 
 Give way, give way to me, who come 
 Scorch't with the selfe-same martyrdome : 
 And have deserv'd as much, Love knowes, 
 As to be canoniz'd 'mongst those. 
 Whose deeds, and deaths here written are 
 Within your greenie-kalendar : 
 By all those virgins fillets hung 
 Upon your boughs, and requiems sung 
 For saints and soules departed hence, 
 (Here honour'd still with frankincense) 
 By all those teares that have been shed. 
 As a drink-ofiering, to the dead : 
 By all those true-love-knots, that be 
 With motto's carv'd on every tree, 
 By sweet S. Phillis ; pitie me : 
 By deare S. Iphis ; and the rest, 
 Of all those other saints now blest ; 
 Me, me, forsaken, here admit 
 Among your mirtles to be writ : 
 That my poore name may have the glory 
 To live remembred in your story. 
 
 An Epitaph upon a Virgin. 
 
 T T ERE a solemne fast we keepe, 
 -*- J- While all beauty lyes asleep, 
 Husht be all things ; no noyse here,
 
 182 HESPERIDES. 
 
 But the toning of a teare : 
 Or a sigh of such as bring 
 Cowslips for her covering. 
 
 To THE EIGHT GRATIOUS PfilNCE, LoDWICK, DxjKE 
 
 OF Richmond and Lenox. 
 
 OF all those three-brave-brothers, fain i' th' 
 vvarre, 
 Not without glory, noble sir, you are. 
 Despite of all concussions left the stem 
 To shoot forth generations like to them. 
 Which may be done, if, sir, you can beget 
 Men in their substance, not in counterfeit. 
 Such essences as those three brothers ; known 
 Eternall by their own production. 
 Of whom, from Fam's white trumpet, this He tell. 
 Worthy their everlasting chronicle, 
 Never since first Bellona us'd a shield. 
 Such three brave brothers fell in Mars his Jield. 
 These were those three Horatii Rome did boast, 
 Rom's where these three Horatii we have lost. 
 One Cordelion had that age long since ; 
 This, three ; which three, you make up foure 
 brave Prince. 
 
 o 
 
 To Jealousie. 
 
 JEALOUSIE, that art 
 The canker of the heart : 
 And mak'st all hell 
 Where thou do'st dwell ; 
 For pitie be 
 No furie, or no fire-brand to me. 
 
 Farre from me He remove 
 All thoughts of irksome love ;
 
 HESPERIDES. 183 
 
 And turn to snow, 
 Or christall grow ; 
 To keej) still free 
 O ! soul-tormenting Jealousie, from thee. 
 
 To LIVE FREELY. 
 
 LET'S live in hast ; use pleasures while we may •' 
 Co'd life return, 'twod never lose a day. 
 
 Upon Spunge. Epig. 
 
 SPUXGE makes his boasts that he's the onely man 
 Can hold of beere and ale an ocean ; 
 Is this his glory ? then his triumph's poore ; 
 I know the tunne of Hidleberge holds more. 
 
 His Almes. 
 
 HERE, here I live, 
 And somewhat give, 
 Of what I have. 
 To those, who crave. 
 Little or much, 
 My almnes is such : 
 But if my deal 
 Of oyl and meal 
 Shall fuller grow. 
 More lie bestow : 
 Mean time be it 
 E'en but a bit, 
 Or else a crum, 
 The scrip hath some. 
 
 Upon Himself. 
 
 COME, leave this loathed country-life, and then 
 Grow up to be a Roman citizen. 
 Those mites of time, which yet remain unspent.
 
 184 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Waste thou in that most civill government. 
 Get their comportment, and the gliding tongue 
 Of those mild men, thou art to live among : 
 Then being seated in that smoother sphere, 
 Decree thy everlasting topick there. 
 And to the farm-house nere return at all, 
 Though granges do not love thee, cities shall. 
 
 To ENJOY THE TiME. 
 
 WHILE Fates permit us, let's be merry ; 
 Passe all we must the fatall ferry : 
 And this our life too "whirles away. 
 With the rotation of the day. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 LOVE, I have broke 
 Thy yoke ; 
 The neck is free : 
 But when I'm next 
 
 Love vext, 
 Then shackell me, 
 
 'Tis better yet 
 
 To fret 
 The feet or hands ; 
 Then to enthrall, 
 
 Or gall 
 The neck with bands. 
 
 To THE Right Honourable Mildmat, Eable 
 or Westmokland. 
 
 YOU are a lord, an earle, nay more, a man, 
 Who writes sweet numbers well as any can : 
 If so, why then are not these verses hurld, 
 Like Sybels leaves, throughout the ample world ?
 
 HESPERIDES. 185 
 
 What is a jewell if it be not set 
 
 Forth by a ring, or some rich carkanet ? 
 
 But being so ; then the beholders cry, 
 
 See, see a jeinnie (as rare as Ba;lus eye.) 
 
 Then publick praise do's runne upon the stone, 
 
 For a most rich, a rai-e, a precious one. 
 
 Expose your jewels then unto the view, 
 
 That we may praise them, or themselves prize you. 
 
 Vertue coneeaVd, with Horace you'l confesse, 
 
 Differs not much from drotozie slothfidlnesse. 
 
 The Plunder, 
 
 T AM of all bereft ; 
 
 -■- Save but some few beanes left. 
 
 Whereof, at last, to make. 
 
 For me, and mine a cake : 
 
 Which eaten, they and I 
 
 Will say our grace, and die. 
 
 LiTTLENESSE NO CaCSE OF LeANNESSE. 
 
 /^XE feeds on lard, and yet is leane ; 
 ^^ And I but feasting with a beane. 
 Grow fat and smooth : the reason is, 
 Jove prospers my meat, more then his. 
 
 Upon one who said she was alwates young. 
 
 OU say y'are young ; but when your teeth are 
 told 
 To be but three, black-ey'd, wee'I thinke y'are old. 
 
 Upon Hdncks. Epig. 
 
 T_J UNCKS ha's no money (he do's sweare, or say) 
 ^ -*- About him, when the taverns shot 's to pay. 
 If he ha's none in 's pockets, trust me, Iluncks 
 Ha's none at home, in coffers, desks, or trunks. 
 
 Y
 
 186 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The JiMMALii Ring, or Tkue-love-knot. 
 
 THOU sent'st to me a true-love-knot ; but I 
 Return 'd a ring of jimmals, to imply 
 Thy love had one knot, mine a triple tye. 
 
 The parting Verse, or Charge to his supposed 
 Wife when he travelled. 
 
 GO hence, and with this parting kisse, 
 Which joyns two souls, remember this ; 
 Though thou beest young, kind, soft, and fairs, 
 And may'st draw thousands with a baire : 
 Yet let these glib temptations be 
 Furies to others, friends to me. 
 Looke upon all ; and though on fire 
 Thou set'st their hearts, let chaste desire 
 Steere thee to me ; and thinke, me gone. 
 In having all, that thou hast none. 
 Nor so immured wo'd I have 
 Thee live, as dead and in thy grave ; 
 But walke abroad, yet wisely well 
 Stand for my comming, sentinell. 
 And think, as thou do'st walke the street, 
 Me, or my shadow thou do'st meet. 
 I know a thousand greedy eyes 
 Will on thy feature tirannize, 
 In my short absence ; yet behold 
 Them like some picture, or some mould 
 Fashion'd like thee ; which though 'tave eares 
 And eyes, it neither sees or heares. 
 Gifts will be sent, and letters, which 
 Are the expressions of that itch. 
 And salt, which frets thy suters ; fly 
 Both, lest thou lose thy liberty : 
 For that once lost, thou't fall to one, 
 Then prostrate to a million. 
 But If they wooe thee, do thou say. 
 As that chaste Queen of Ithaca
 
 HESPERIDES. 187 
 
 Did to her suitors, this web done 
 
 (Undone as oft as done) I'm wonne ; 
 
 I will not urge thee, for I know. 
 
 Though thou art joung, thou canst say no, 
 
 And no again, and so deny, 
 
 Those thy lust-burning incubi. 
 
 Let them enstile thee fairest faire, 
 
 The pearle of princes, yet despaire 
 
 That so thou art, because thou must 
 
 Believe, Love speaks it not, but Lust ; 
 
 And this their flatt'rie do's commend 
 
 Thee chiefly for their pleasures end. 
 
 I am not jealous of thy faith. 
 
 Or will be ; for the axiome saith. 
 
 He that doth suspect, do's haste 
 
 A scentle mind to be unchaste. 
 
 No, live thee to thy selfe, and keep 
 
 Thy thoughts as cold, as is thy sleep : 
 
 •And let thy dreames be only fed 
 
 With this, that I am in thy bed. 
 
 And thou then turning in that sphere. 
 
 Waking shalt find me sleeping there. 
 
 But yet if boundlesse Lust must skaile 
 
 Thy fortress, and will needs prevaile ; 
 
 And wildly force a passage in, 
 
 Banish consent, and 'tis no sinne 
 
 Of thine ; so Lucrece fell, and the 
 
 Chaste Syracusian Cyane. 
 
 So MeduUina fell, yet none 
 
 Of these had imputation 
 
 For the least trespasse ; 'cause the mind 
 
 Here was not with the act combin'd. 
 
 The body sins not, 'tis the viill 
 
 That makes the action, good, or ill 
 
 And if thy fall sho'd this way come, 
 
 Triumph in such a martirdome. 
 
 I will not over'long enlarge 
 
 To thee, this my religious charge.
 
 188 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Take this compression, so by this 
 Means I shall know what other kisse 
 Is mixt with mine ; and truly know, 
 Returning, if 't be mine or no : 
 Keepe it till then ; and now my spouse. 
 For my wisht safety pay thy vowes, 
 And prayers to Venus ^ if it please 
 The great-blew-ruler of the seas ; 
 Not many full-fac't-moons shall waine, 
 Lean-horn'd, before I come again 
 As one triumphant ; when I find 
 In thee, all faith of woman-kind. 
 Nor wo'd I have thee thinke, that thou 
 Had'st power thy selfe to keep this vow ; 
 But having scapt temptations shelfe. 
 Know vertue taught thee, not thy selfe. 
 
 To HIS Kinsman, Sie Tho. Soame. 
 
 SEEING thee Soame, I see a goodly man. 
 And in that good, a great patrician. 
 Next to which two ; among the city-powers. 
 And thrones, thy selfe one of those senatours 
 Not wearing purple only for the show ; 
 As many conscripts of the citie do ; 
 But for true service, worthy of that gowne. 
 The golden chain too, and the civick crown. 
 
 To Blossoms. 
 
 FAIRE pledges of a fruitful! tree. 
 Why do yee fall so fast ? 
 Your date is not so past ; 
 But you may stay yet here a while, 
 To blush and gently smile ; 
 And go at last. 
 
 What, were yee borne to be 
 
 An houre or halfs delight ; 
 And so to bid goodnight ?
 
 HESPERIDES. 189 
 
 'Twas pitie Nature brought yee forth 
 Meerly to shew your worth, 
 And lose you quite. 
 
 But you are lovely leaves, where we 
 
 May read how soon things have 
 Their end, though ne'r so brave : 
 
 And after they have shown their pride, 
 Like you a while : they glide 
 Into the grave. 
 
 Man's Dting-place uncertain. 
 
 MAN knowes where first he ships himselfe ; 
 but he 
 Never can tell, where shall his landino- be. 
 
 Nothing fbee-cost. 
 1\T OTHING comes free-cost here ; Jove will not 
 
 His gifts go from him ; if not bought with sweat. 
 
 Few fortunate. 
 
 M 
 
 ANY we are, and yet but few possesse 
 Those fields of everlasting happinesse. 
 
 To Perenna. 
 
 TT OW long, Perenna, wilt thou see 
 -*- ^ Me languish for the love of thee? 
 Consent and play a friendly part 
 To save; when thou may'st kill a heart. 
 
 To THE LaDTES. 
 
 THRUST me, ladies, I will do 
 J- Nothing to distemper you ; 
 If I any fret or vex, 
 Men they shall be, not your sex.
 
 190 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Old Wives Prayee. 
 
 HOLY-ROOD come forth and shield 
 Us i'th' citie, and the field : 
 Safely guard us, now and aye, 
 From the blast that burns by day ; 
 And those sounds that us affright 
 In the dead of dampish night. 
 Drive all hurtfuU feinds us fro, 
 By the time the cocks first crow. 
 
 Upon a Cheap Latindresse. Epig. 
 
 FEACIE, some say, doth wash her clothes i'th'iie 
 That sharply trickles from her either eye. 
 The laundresses, they envie her good-luck, 
 Who can with so small charges drive the buck. 
 What needs she fire and ashes to consume, 
 Who can scoure linnens with her own salt reeume ? 
 
 Upon his Departure hence. 
 
 T^HUS I 
 J- Passe by, 
 And die : 
 As one. 
 Unknown, 
 And gon : 
 Pm made 
 A shade, 
 And laid 
 Pth grave, 
 There have 
 My cave. 
 Where tell 
 I dwell. 
 Farewell.
 
 HESPERIDES. 191 
 
 The Wassaile. 
 
 GIVE way, give way, ye gates, and win 
 An easie blessing to your bin, 
 And basket, by our entring in. 
 
 May both with nianchet stand repleat ; 
 Tour larders too so hung with meat, 
 That though a thousand, thousand eat ; 
 
 Yet, ere twelve moones shall whirl about 
 Their silv'rie spheres, ther's none may doubt, 
 But more's sent in, then was serv'd out. 
 
 Next, may your dairies prosper so. 
 As that your pans no ebbe may know ; 
 But if they do, the more to flow. 
 
 Like to a solemne sober stream 
 Bankt all with lillies, and the eream 
 Of sweetest cow-slips filling them. 
 
 Then, may your plants be prest with fruit, 
 Nor bee, or hive you have be mute ; 
 But sweetly sounding like a lute. 
 
 Xext may your duck and teeming hen 
 Both to the cocks 'tread say Amen ; 
 And for their two egs render ten. 
 
 Last, may your harrows, shares and ploughes. 
 Your stacks, your stocks, your sweetest raowes, 
 All prosper by your virgin-vowes. 
 
 Alas ! we blesse, but see none here, 
 That brings us either ale or beere ; 
 In a drie-house all things ai'e neere. 
 
 Let's leave a longer time to wait. 
 Where rust and cobwebs bind the gate ; 
 And all live here with neeiiy Fate.
 
 192 HESPERTDES. 
 
 Where chimneys do for ever weepe, 
 
 For want of warmth, and stomachs keepe 
 
 With noise, the servants eyes from sleep. 
 
 It is in vain to sing, or stay 
 
 Our free-feet here ; but we'l away : 
 
 Yet to the Lares this we'l say, 
 
 The time will come, when you'l be sad, 
 And reckon this for fortune bad, 
 T'ave lost" the good ye might have had. 
 
 Upon a Lady faire, but fruitlesse. 
 
 TWICE has Pudica been a bride, and led 
 By holy Himen to the nuptiall bed. 
 Two youths sha's known, thrice two, and twice three 
 
 yeares ; 
 Yet not a lilHe from the bed appeares ; 
 Nor will ; for why, Pudica, this may know, 
 Trees never beare, wilesse they first do Mow. 
 
 How Springs came first. 
 
 THESE springs were maidens once that lov'd, 
 But lost to that they most approv'd : 
 My story tells, by Love they were 
 Turn'd to these springs, which wee see here : 
 The pretty whimpering that they make, 
 When of the banks their leave they take ; 
 Tels ye but this, they are the same, 
 In nothing chang'd but in their name. " 
 
 To Rosemary and Baies. 
 
 MY wooing's ended : now my wedding's neere ; 
 When gloves are giving, Guilded he you there. 
 
 Upon Skurffe. 
 
 SKURFFE by his nine-bones sweares, and well he 
 may, 
 All know a fellon eate the tenth away.
 
 HESPERIDES. 193 
 
 Upon a Scarre in a Virgin's Face. 
 
 ''T^IS heresie in others : in your face 
 J- That scarr's no schisme, but the sign of grace. 
 
 Upon his Eye-sight failing him. 
 
 T BEGtN^NE to waine in sight ; 
 •^ Shortly I shall bid goodnight : 
 Then no gazing more about, 
 When the tapers once are out. 
 
 To HIS Worthy Friend, M. Tho. Falconbirge. 
 
 O TAND with thy graces forth, brave man, and rise 
 *^ High with thine own auspitious destinies : 
 Nor leave the search, and proofe, till thou canst find 
 These, or those ends, to which thou wast design'd. 
 Thy lucky genius, and thy guiding starre. 
 Have made thee prosperous in thy wayes, thus farre : 
 Nor will they leave thee, till they both have shown 
 Thee to the world a prime and publique one. 
 Then, when thou see'st thine age all turn'd to gold, 
 Remember what thy Herrick thee foretold, 
 When at the holy threshold of thine house. 
 He boded good- luck to thy self'e and spouse. 
 Lastly, be mindfull, when thou art grown great, 
 TTiat towrs high reard dread most the lightnings threat : 
 Wheti as the humble cottages not feare 
 The cleaving bolt of Jove the Thunderer. 
 
 Upon Julia's Haire fill'd with Dew. 
 
 1~\EW sate on Julia's haire, 
 -*-^ And spangled too, 
 
 Like leaves that laden are 
 
 AV^ith treniblin<T dew :
 
 194 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Or glitter'd to my sight, 
 
 As when the beames 
 Have their reflected light, 
 
 Daunc't by the streames. 
 
 Another on her. 
 
 HOW can I choose but love, and follow her, 
 Whose shadow smels like milder pomander ! 
 How can I chuse but kisse her, whence do's come 
 The storax, spiknard, myrrhe, and ladanum. 
 
 LOSSE FROM THE LEAST. 
 
 GREAT men by small meanes oft are overthrown : 
 He's lord of thy life, who contemnes his own. 
 
 A 
 
 Rewards and Punishments. 
 
 LL things are open to these two events, 
 Or to rewards, or else to punishments. 
 
 Shame, no Statist. 
 
 SHAME is a bad attendant to a state : 
 He rents his croum, that feares the peoples hate. 
 
 To Sir Clisebie Crew. 
 
 SINCE to th' country first I came, 
 I have lost my former flame : 
 And, methinks, I not inherit. 
 As I did, my ravisht spirit. 
 If I write a verse, or two, 
 'Tis with very much ado ; 
 In regard I want that wine. 
 Which sho'd conjure up a line. 
 Yet, though now of muse bereft, 
 I have still the manners left
 
 HESPERIDES. 
 
 For to thanke you, noble sir, 
 For those gifts you do conferre 
 Upon him, who only can 
 Be in prose a gratefull man. 
 
 Upon Himselfe. 
 
 T CO'D never love indeed ; 
 
 -•- Never see mine own heart bleed 
 
 Never crucifie my life ; 
 
 Or for widow, maid, or wife. 
 
 I co'd never seeke to please 
 One, or many mistresses : 
 Never like their lips, to sweare 
 Oyle of roses still smelt there. 
 
 I co'd never breake my sleepe. 
 Fold mine armes, sob, sigh, or weep : 
 Never beg, or humbly wooe 
 With oathes, and lyes, as others do. 
 
 I co'd never walke alone ; 
 Put a shirt of sackcloth on : 
 Never keep a fast, or pray 
 For good luck in love (that day). 
 
 But have hitherto liv'd free. 
 As the aire that circles me : 
 And kept credit with my heart, 
 Neither broke i'th whole, or part. 
 
 Fresh Cheese and Cream. 
 
 ^ A y^O'D yee have fresh cheese and cream ? 
 
 * ^ lulia's breast can give you them : 
 And if more ; each nipple cries. 
 To your cream, her's strawberries. 
 
 195
 
 196 HESPERIDES. 
 
 An Eclogue, or Pastorall between Endimion 
 
 Porter and Ltcidas Herrick, 
 
 set and sung. 
 
 Endym. A H ! Lycidas, come tell me why 
 ■^J^ Thy whilome mtrry oate 
 By thee doth so neglected lye ; 
 
 And never purls a note ? 
 
 I prithee speake : Lye. I will. End. Say on : 
 Lye. 'Tis thou, and only thou, 
 
 That art the cause, Endimion ; 
 End. For Love's-sake, tell me how. 
 
 Lye. In this regard, that thou do'st play 
 Upon an other plain : 
 And for a rurall roundelay, 
 
 Strik'st now a courtly strain. 
 
 Thou leav'st our hills, our dales, our bowers, 
 Our finer fleeced sheep : 
 
 Unkind to us, to spend thine houres. 
 
 Where shepheards sho'd not keep. 
 
 I meane the court : let Latmos be 
 
 My lov'd Endymions court ; 
 End. But I the courtly state wo'd see : 
 Lye. Then see it in report. 
 
 What ha's the court to do with swaines, 
 Where Phillis is not known ? 
 
 Nor do's it mind the rustick straines 
 Of us, or Coridon. 
 
 Breake, if thou lov'st us, this delay ; 
 End. Dear Lycidas, e're long, 
 
 I vow by Pan, to come away 
 
 And pipe unto thy song.
 
 HESPERIDES. 197 
 
 Then Jessimine, with Florabell ; 
 
 And dainty Auiurillis, 
 With handsome-handed Drosomell 
 
 Shall pranke thy hooke with lillies. 
 
 Lye. Then Tityrus, and Coridon, 
 
 And Thyrsis, they shall follow 
 With all the rest ; while thou alone 
 
 Shalt lead, like young Apollo. 
 
 And till thou com'st, thy Lycidas, 
 
 In every geniall cup, 
 Shall write in spice, Endimion 'twas 
 
 That kept his piping up. 
 
 And my most luckie swain, when I shall live to see 
 Endimion's moon to fill up full, remember me : 
 Mean time, let Lycidas have leave to pipe to thee. 
 
 To A Bed of Tulips. 
 
 13 RIGHT tulips, we do know, 
 -^ You had your comming hither ; 
 And fading-time do's show, 
 That ye must quickly wither. 
 
 Your sister-hoods may stay. 
 And smile here for your houre ; 
 But dye ye must away : 
 Even as the meanest flower. 
 
 Come, virgins, then, and see 
 Your frailties ; and bemone ye ; 
 For lost like these, 'twill be. 
 As time had never known ye. 
 
 A Caution. 
 
 THAT love last long ; let it thy first care be 
 To find a wife, that is most fit for thee. 
 Be she too wealthy, or too poore ; be sure, 
 Love in extreames, can never long endure.
 
 198 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To THE Water Nymphs, Drinking at the 
 Fountain. 
 
 REACH, with your whiter hands, to me, 
 Some christall of the spring ; 
 And I, about the cup shall see 
 Fresh lillies flourishing. 
 
 Or else sweet nimphs do you but this ; 
 
 To'th' glasse your lips encline ; 
 And I shall see by that one kisse, 
 
 The water turn'd to wine. 
 
 To HIS Honoured Kinsman, Sir Richard Stone. 
 
 TO this white temple of my heroes, here 
 Beset with stately figures, every where. 
 Of such rare saint-ships, who did here consume 
 Their lives In sweets, and left in death perfume. 
 Come, thou brave man ! And bring with thee a stone 
 Unto thine own edification. 
 Hi^h are these statues here, besides no lesse 
 Strong then the heavens for everlastingnesse : 
 Where build aloft ; and being fixt by these, 
 Set up thine own eternall images. 
 
 Upon a Flie. 
 
 A GOLDEN flie one shew'd to me, 
 Clos'd in a box of yvorie : 
 Where both seem'd proud ; the flie to have 
 His buriall in an yvorie grave : 
 The yvorie tooke state to hold 
 A corps as bright as burnisht gold. 
 One fate had both ; both equall grace ; 
 The buried, and the burying-place. 
 Not Virgils gnat, to whom the spring 
 All flowers sent to'is burying. 
 Not Marshals bee, which in a bead 
 Of amber quick was buried.
 
 HESPERIDES. 199 
 
 Nor that fine worme that do's interre 
 Her selfe i'th' silken sepulchre. 
 Nor my rare Phil,* that lately was 
 With lillies tomb'd up in a glasse ; 
 jMore honour had, then this same flie ; 
 Dead, and closed up in yvorie. 
 
 Upon Jack and Jill. Epig. 
 
 WHEN Jill complaines to Jack for want of meate ; 
 Jack kisses Jill, and bids her freely eate : 
 Jill sayes, of what ? sayes Jack, on that sweet kisse. 
 Which full of nectar and ambrosia is. 
 The food of poets ; so I thought sayes Jill, 
 That makes them looke so lanke, so ghost-like still. 
 Let poets feed on aire, or what they will ; 
 Let me feed full, till that I fart, sayes Jill. 
 
 To Julia. 
 
 JULIA, when thy Herrick dies. 
 Close thou up thy poets eyes : 
 And his last breath, let it be 
 Taken in by none but thee. 
 
 To MisTRESSE Dorothy Parsons. 
 
 IF thou aske me, deare, wherefore 
 I do write of thee no more : 
 I must answer, sweet, thy part 
 Lesse is here, then in my heart. 
 
 Upon Pabeat. 
 
 PARRAT protests 'tis he, and only he 
 Can teach a man the art of memory : 
 Believe him not ; for he forgot it quite. 
 Being drunke, who 'twas that can'd his i:ibs last night. 
 
 • Sparrow.
 
 200 HESPERIDES. 
 
 How HE WOULD DRINKE HIS WiNE. 
 
 TI^ILL me my wine in christall ; thus, and thus 
 
 -*- I see't in's puris naturalibus : 
 
 Unmixt. I love to have it smirke and shine, 
 
 " Tis sin I hiow, 'tis sin to throtle wine. 
 
 What mad-man's he, that when it sparkles so, 
 
 Will coole his flames, or quench his fires with snow? 
 
 How Marigolds came Yellow. 
 
 JEALOUS girles these sometimes were. 
 While they liv'd, or lasted here : 
 Turn'd to flowers, still they be 
 Yellow, markt for jealousie. 
 
 The Broken Christall. 
 
 TO fetch me wine my Lucia went. 
 Bearing a christall continent : 
 But making haste, it came to passe, 
 She brake in two the purer glasse. 
 Then smil'd, and sweetly chid her speed ; 
 So with a blush, beshrew'd the deed. 
 
 Precepts. 
 
 GOOD precepts we must firmly hold, 
 By daily learning we wax old. 
 
 To the Eight Honourable Edward Earle of 
 Dorset. 
 
 IF I dare write to you, my lord, who are, 
 Of your own selfe, a piiblick theater. 
 And sitting, see the wiles, wayes, walks of wit. 
 And give a righteous judgement upon it. 
 What need I care, though some dislike me sho'd. 
 If Dorset say, what Herrick writes, is good ?
 
 HESFERIDES. 201 
 
 ^^'e know y'are learn'd i'th' Muses, and no lest;e 
 
 In our state-sanctions, deep, or bottomlesse. 
 
 Whose smile can make a poet ; and your glance 
 
 Dash all bad pnems out of countenance. 
 
 So, that an author needs no other bayes 
 
 For coronation, then your onely praise. 
 
 And no one mischief greater then your frown. 
 
 To null his numbers, and to blast his crowne. 
 
 Feic live the life immortall. He ensures 
 
 His fame's long life, who strives to set up yours. 
 
 Upon Himself. 
 
 TH'art hence removing, like a shepherds tent, 
 And walk thou must the way that others went : 
 Fall thou must first, then rise to life with these, 
 Markt in thy book for faithful! witnesses. 
 
 Hope well and Have w ell : ok, Faire after 
 FouLE Weather. 
 
 WHAT though the heaven be lowring now, 
 And look with a contracted brow ? 
 We shall discover, by and by, 
 A repurgation of the skie : 
 And when those clouds away are driven. 
 Then will appeare a cheerfuU heaven. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 I HELD Love's head while it did ake ; 
 But so it chanc't to be ; 
 The cruell paine did his forsake, 
 And forthwith came to me. 
 
 Ai me ! how shal my griefe be stil'd? 
 
 Or where else shall we find 
 One like to me, who must be kill'd 
 
 For being too-too-kind ?
 
 202 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To HIS Kinswoman, Mrs. Penelope Wheeleb. 
 
 "jVrEXT is your lot, faire, to be number'd one, 
 ■^ ^ Here, in my book's canonization : 
 Late you come in ; but you a saint shall be, 
 In chiefe, in this poetick Liturgie. 
 
 Another upon her. 
 
 THIRST, for your shape, the curious cannot shew 
 
 -■- Any one part that's dissonant in you : 
 
 And 'gainst your chast behaviour there's no plea, 
 
 Since you are knowne to be Penelope. 
 
 Thus faire and cleane you are, although there be 
 
 A mighty strife Hwixt forme and chastitie. 
 
 K 
 
 Kissing and Bussing. 
 
 ISSING and bussing differ both in this ; 
 We busse our wantons, but our wives we kisse. 
 
 Crosse and Pile. 
 
 FAIRE and foule dayes trip crosse and pile ; the 
 faire 
 Far lesse in number, then our foule dayes are. 
 
 To THE Lady Crew, upon the Death of 
 her Child. 
 
 WHY, madam, will ye longer weep, 
 When as your baby's luU'd asleep ? 
 And, pretty child, feeles now no more 
 Those paines it lately felt before. 
 All now is silent ; groanes are fled : 
 Your child lyes still, yet is not dead : 
 But rather like a flower hid here 
 To spring againe another yeare.
 
 HESPERIDES. 203 
 
 His Winding-sheet. 
 
 COIME thou, who art the wine, and wit 
 Of all I've writ : 
 The grace, the glorie, and the best 
 
 Piece of the rest. 
 Thou art of what I did intend 
 
 The all, and end. 
 And what was made, was made to meet 
 
 Thee, thee my sheet. 
 Come then, and be to my chast side 
 
 Both bed, and bride. 
 We two, as reliques left, will have 
 
 One rest, one grave. 
 And, hugging close, we will not feare 
 
 Lust entring here : 
 Where all desires are dead, or cold 
 
 As is the mould : 
 And all atfections are forgot, 
 
 Or trouble not. 
 Here, here the slaves and pris'ners be 
 
 From shackles free : 
 And weeping widowes long opprest 
 
 Doe here find rest. 
 The wronged client ends his lawes 
 
 Here, and his cause. 
 Here those long suits of Chancery lie 
 
 Quiet, or die : 
 And all Star-chamber- bils doe ceasSi 
 
 Or hold their peace 
 Here needs no court for our request 
 
 Where all are best ; 
 All wise; all equall; and all just 
 
 Alike i'th' dust. 
 Nor need we here to feare the frowne 
 
 Of Court, or Crown. 
 Where Fortune bears no swiiy ore th ings 
 
 There all are Kings.
 
 •204 HESPERIDES. 
 
 In this securer place we'l keep, 
 
 As luU'd asleep ; 
 Or for a little time we'l lye, 
 
 As robes laid by ; 
 To be another day re-worne, 
 
 Turn'd, but not torn : 
 Or like old testaments ingrost, 
 
 Lockt up, not lost : 
 And for a while lye here conceal'd. 
 
 To be reveal'd 
 Next, at that great Platonick yeere, 
 
 And then meet here. 
 
 To MisTREssE Mart Willand. 
 
 ONE more by thee, love, and desert have sent, 
 T' enspangle this expansive firmament. 
 O flame of beauty ! come, appeare, appeare 
 A virgin taper, ever shining here. 
 
 w 
 
 Change gives Content. 
 
 HAT now we like, anon we disapprove : 
 The new successor drives away old love. 
 
 Upon Magot a Frequenter op Ordinaries. 
 
 MAGOT frequents those houses of good-cheere, 
 Talkes most, eates most, of all the feeders 
 there. 
 He raves through leane, he rages through the fat ; 
 (What gets the master of the meal by that ?) 
 He who with talking can devoure so much, 
 How wo'd he eate, were not his hindrance such ? 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 BORNE I was to meet with age, 
 And to walke life's pilgrimage. 
 Much I know of time is spent, 
 Tell I can't, what's resident.
 
 HESPERIDES. 205 
 
 Howsoever, cares, adue ; 
 
 He have nought to say to you : 
 
 But He spend my comming houres, 
 
 Drinking wine, & crown'd with liowres. 
 
 Fortune favours. 
 
 FORTUoSJE did never favour one 
 Fully, without exception ; 
 Though free she be, ther's something yet 
 Still wanting to her favourite. 
 
 To Phillis to love, and live with him. 
 
 LIVE, liva with me, and thou shalt see 
 The pleasures He prepare for thee : 
 What sweets the country can afford 
 Shall blesse thy bed, and blesse thy board. 
 The soft sweet mosse shall be thy bed. 
 With crawling woodbine over-spread : 
 By which the silver-shedding streames 
 Shall gently melt thee into dreames. 
 Thy clothing next, shall be a gowne 
 Made of the fleeces purest downe. 
 The tongues of kids shall be thy meate ; 
 Their milke thy drinke ; and thou shalt eate 
 The paste of filberts for thy bread 
 With cream of cowslips buttered : 
 Thy feasting-tables shall be hills 
 With daisies spread, and daffadils ; 
 Where thou shalt sit, and red-brest by, 
 For meat, shall give thee melody. 
 He give thee chaines and carkanets 
 Of primroses and violets. 
 A bag and bottle thou shalt have ; 
 That richly wrought, and this as brave ; 
 So that as either shall expresse 
 The wearer's no meane shepheardesse.
 
 206 HESPERIDES. 
 
 At sheering-times, and yearely wakes, 
 
 When Themilis bis pastime makes, 
 
 There thou shalt be ; and be the wit, 
 
 Nay more, the feast, and grace of it. 
 
 On holj-dayes, when virgins meet 
 
 To dance the hejes with nimble feet ; 
 
 Thou shalt come forth, and then appeare 
 
 The queen of roses for that yeere. 
 
 And having danc't ('bove all the best) 
 
 Carry the garland from the rest. 
 
 In wicker-baskets maids shal bring 
 
 To thee, my dearest shepharling, 
 
 The blushing apple, bashfuU peare. 
 
 And shame-fac't plum, all simp'ring there, 
 
 Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find 
 
 The name of Phillis in the rind 
 
 Of every straight, and smooth-skin tree ; 
 
 Where kissing that. He twice kisse thee. 
 
 To thee a sheep-hook I will send, 
 
 Be-pranckt with ribbands, to this end. 
 
 This, this alluring hook might be 
 
 Lesse for to catch a sheep, then me. 
 
 Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine, 
 
 Not made of ale, but spiced wine ; 
 
 To make thy maids and selfe free mirth, 
 
 All sitting neer the glitt'ring hearth. 
 
 Thou sha't have ribbands, roses, rings, 
 
 Gloves, garters, stockings, shooes, and string? 
 
 Of winning colours, that shall move 
 
 Others to lust, but me to love. 
 
 These, nay, and more, thine own shal be. 
 
 If thou wilt love, and live with me. 
 
 To HIS Kinswoman, Mistresse Susanna Herrick. 
 
 WHEN I consider, dearest, thou dost stay 
 But here awhile, to languish and decay ;
 
 HESPERIDES. 207 
 
 Like to these garden-glories, which here be 
 The flowrie-sweet resembhinces of thee : 
 With griefe of heart, methinks, I thus doe cry, 
 Wo'd thou hast ne'r been born, or might'st not die. 
 
 Upon Mistresse Susanna Southwell 
 HER Cheeks. 
 
 RARE are thy cheeks, Susanna, which do show 
 Ripe cherries smiling, while that others blow. 
 
 Upon her Eyes. 
 
 CLEERE are her eyes, 
 Like purest skies. 
 Discovering from thence 
 A babie there 
 That turns each sphere. 
 Like an intelligence. 
 
 H 
 
 Upon her Feet. 
 
 ER pretty feet 
 Like snailes did creep 
 A little out, and then. 
 As if they played at bo-peep. 
 Did soon draw in agen. 
 
 To his Honoured Friend, Sir John Mince. 
 
 FOR civill, cleane, and circumcised wit, 
 And for the comely carriage of it ; 
 Thou art the man, the onely man best known, 
 Markt for the true-wit of a million : 
 From whom we'l reckon. Wit came in, but since 
 The calculation of thy bu'th, brave Mince.
 
 208 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon his Gray Haires. 
 
 T^LY me not, though I be gray, 
 -*- Lady, this I know you'l say ; 
 Better look the roses red. 
 When with white commingled. 
 Black your haires are ; mine are white ; 
 This begets the more delight. 
 When things meet most opposite : 
 As in pictures we descry, 
 Venus standing Vulcan by. 
 
 I 
 
 ACCDSATION. 
 
 F accusation onely can draw blood, 
 None shall be guiltlesse, be he n'er so good. 
 
 A 
 
 1 
 
 Pride allowable in Poets. 
 
 S tliou deserv'st, be proud ; then gladly let 
 The Muse give thee the Delphick coronet. 
 
 A Vow TO Minerva. 
 
 GODDESSE, I begin an art; 
 Come thou in, with thy best part, 
 For to make the texture lye 
 Each way smooth and civilly : 
 And a broad-fac't owle shall be 
 Ofier'd up with vows to thee. 
 
 On Jone. 
 
 ONE wo'd go tel her haires ; and well she might, 
 Having but seven in all ; three black, foure white. 
 
 Upon Letcher. Epig. 
 
 LETCHER was carted first about the streets, 
 For false position in his neighbours sheets : 
 Next, hang'd for theeving : now the people say, 
 His carting was the prologue to this play.
 
 HESPERIDES. 209 
 
 Upon Dundkige. 
 
 T^UNDRIGE his issue hath; but is not stjl'd 
 J-^ For all his issue, father of one child. 
 
 To El,^ctra. 
 
 "T^IS ev'uing, my sweet, 
 -L And dark ; let us meet ; 
 Long time w'ave here been a toying : 
 
 And never, as yet. 
 
 That season co'd get, 
 Wherein t'ave had an enjoying. 
 
 For pitty or shame, 
 
 Then let not love's flame. 
 Be ever and ever a spending ; 
 
 Since now to the port 
 
 The path is but short ; 
 And yet our way has no ending. 
 
 Time flyes away fast ; 
 
 Our houres doe waste : 
 The while we never remember. 
 
 How soone our life, here, 
 
 Growes old with the yeere, 
 That dyes with the next December. 
 
 Discord not Disadvantageous. 
 
 T^ORTUXE no higher project can devise, 
 -*- Then to sow discord 'mongst the enemies. 
 
 Ill Government. 
 
 PREPOSTEROUS Is that government, and rude, 
 -*- When kings obey the wilder multitude. 
 
 To Mahtgolds. 
 
 GIVE way, and be ye ravisht by the sun. 
 And hang the head when as the act is done, 
 Spread as he spreads ; wax lesse as he do's wane ; 
 And as he shuts, close up to maids again. 
 
 p
 
 210 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To DiANEME. 
 
 GIVE me one kisse, 
 And no more ; 
 If so be, this 
 
 Makes yon poore ; 
 To enrich you, 
 
 lie restore 
 For that one, two 
 Thousand score. 
 
 To Julia, the Flaminica Dialis, or 
 Queen-Pkiest. 
 
 I ^HOU know'st, my Julia, that it is thy turne 
 -■- This mornings incense to prepare, and burne. 
 The chaplet, and inarculum* here be, 
 With the white vestures, all attending thee. 
 This day, the queen-priest, thou art made t'appease 
 Love for our very-many trespasses. 
 One chiefs transgression is among the rest. 
 Because with flowers her temple was not drest : 
 The next, because her altars did not shine 
 With daily fyers : the last, neglect of wine : 
 For which, her wrath is gone forth to consume 
 Us all, unlesse preserv'd by thy perfume. 
 Take then thy censer ; put in lire, and thus, 
 O pious-priestresse ! make a peace for us. 
 For our neglect. Love did our death decree. 
 That we escape. Redemption comes by thee. 
 
 Anacreontike. 
 
 BORN I was to be old. 
 And for to die here : 
 After that, in the mould 
 Long for to lye here. 
 
 * A twig of a pomgranat, which the queen-priest did use 
 to weare on her head at sacrificing.
 
 HESPERIDES. -21] 
 
 But before that day comes, 
 
 Still I be bousing ; 
 For I know, in the tombs 
 
 There's no carousine. 
 
 Meat without Mirth. 
 
 "P ATEN I have ; and though I had good cheere, 
 -*— ' I did not sup, because no friends were there. 
 Where mirth and friends are absent when we dine 
 Or sup, there wants the incense and the wine. 
 
 Large Bounds doe but Bury us. 
 
 A LL things o'r-rul'd are here by chance ; 
 ■'- *- The greatest mans inheritance. 
 Where ere the luckie lot doth fall, 
 Serves but for place of buriall. 
 
 Upon Urseey. 
 
 URSLEY, she thinks those velvet patches grace 
 The candid temples of her comely face : 
 But he will say, who e'r those circlets seeth. 
 They be but signs of Ursleys hollow teeth. 
 
 An Ode to Sir Clipsebie Crew. 
 
 HERE we securely live, and eate 
 The creame of meat ; 
 And keep eternal fires, 
 By which we sit, and doe divine 
 As wine 
 And rage inspires. 
 
 If full we charme ; then call upon 
 Anacreon 
 To grace the frantick thyrse : 
 And having drunk, we raise a shout 
 Throughout 
 To praise his verse.
 
 212 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Then cause we Horace to be read, 
 Which sung, or sejd, 
 A goblet, to the brim. 
 Of lyrick wine, both swell'd and crown'd, 
 A round 
 We quaiFe to him. 
 Thus, thus, we live, and spend the houres 
 In wine and flowers : 
 And make the frollick yeere, 
 The month, the week, the instant day 
 To stay 
 The longer here. 
 Come then, brave knight, and see the cell 
 Wherein I dwell ; 
 And my enchantments too ; 
 Which love and noble freedome is ; 
 And tills 
 Shall fetter you. 
 Take horse, and come ; or be so kind, 
 To send your mind 
 (Though but in numbers few) 
 And I shall think I have the heart, 
 Or part 
 Of Clipseby Crew. 
 
 To HIS Worthy Kinsman, Mr. Stephen Soamf. 
 
 NOR is my number full, till I inscribe 
 Thee sprightly Soame, one of my righteous 
 tribe : 
 A tribe of one lip : leven, and of one 
 Civil behaviour, and religion. 
 A stock of saints ; where ev'ry one doth weare 
 A stole of white, and canonized here, 
 Among which holies, be thou ever known, 
 Brave kinsman, markt out with the whiter stone : 
 Which seals thy glorie ; sir.ce I doe prefer 
 Thee here in my eternall calender.
 
 o 
 
 o 
 
 HESPERIDES. 213 
 
 To HIS Tomb-maker. 
 
 GO I must ; when I am gone, 
 Write but this upon my stone ; 
 Chaste I liv'd, without a wife, 
 That's the story of my life. 
 Strewings need none, every flower 
 Is in this word, batchelour. 
 
 Great Spirits supervive. 
 
 UR mortall parts may wrapt in seare-cloths lye : 
 Great spirits never with their bodies dye. 
 
 None free from Fault. 
 
 UT of the world he must, who once comes in : 
 No man exempted isfro7n death, or sinne. 
 
 Upon Himselfe bei>g Buried. 
 
 LET me sleep this night away, 
 Till the dawning of the day : 
 Then at th' opening of mine eyes, 
 I, and all the world shall rise. 
 
 Pitie to the Prostrate. 
 
 '' I "IS worse then barbarous cruelty to show 
 J- No part of pitie on a conquer'd foe. 
 
 Way in a Crowd. 
 
 ONCE on a Lord-Mayors day, in Cheapside, when 
 Skulls co'd not well passe through that scum 
 of men. 
 For quick dispatch, Sculls made no longer stay, 
 Then but to breath, and every one gave way : 
 For as he breath'd, the people swore from thence 
 A fart flew out, or a Sir-reverence.
 
 214 HESPEItlDES. 
 
 His Content in the Country. 
 
 lT ere, here I live with what mj board, 
 
 -*- -*- Can with the smallest cost afford. 
 
 Though ne'r so mean the viands be, 
 
 They well content my Prew and me. 
 
 Or pea, or bean, or wort, or beet, 
 
 What ever conies, content makes sweet : 
 
 Here we rejoyce, because no rent 
 
 We pay for our poore tenement : 
 
 Wherein we rest, and never feare 
 
 The landlord, or the usurer. 
 
 The quarter-day do's ne'r affright 
 
 Our peaceful! slumbers in the night. 
 
 We eate our own, and batten more. 
 
 Because we feed on no mans score : 
 
 But pitie those, whose flanks grow great, 
 
 Swel'd with the lard of others meat. 
 
 We blesse our fortunes, when we see 
 
 Our own beloved privacie : 
 
 And like our living, where w'are known 
 
 To very few, or else to none. 
 
 The Credit of the Conquerer. 
 
 TIJE who commends the vanquisht, speaks the 
 
 -*- -*- power, 
 
 And glorifies the worthy conquerer. . 
 
 s 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 OME parts may perish ; dye thou canst not all 
 The most of thee shall scape the funerall. 
 
 Upon one-et'd Broomsted. Epig. 
 
 BROOMSTED alaraenesse got by cold and beere ; 
 And to the bath went, to be cured there : 
 His feet were helpt, and left his crutch behind : 
 But home return'd, as he went forth, halfe blind.
 
 UESPERIDES. 215 
 
 The Fairies. 
 
 T F ye will with Mab find grace, 
 
 -*- Set each platter in his place : 
 
 Rake the fier up, and get 
 
 Water in, ere sun be set. 
 
 Wash your pailes, and dense your dairies ; 
 
 Sluts are loathsome to the fairies : 
 
 Sweep your house : who doth not so, 
 
 Mab will pinch her by the toe. 
 
 To HIS Honoured Friend, M. John Weare, 
 
 COUNCELLOUR. 
 
 DID I or love, or could I others draw 
 To the indulgence of the rugged law : 
 The first foundation of that zeale sho'd be 
 By reading all her paragraphs in thee. 
 Who dost so fitly with the lawes unite. 
 As if you two, were one herraophrodite : 
 Nor courts thou her because she's well attended 
 With wealth, but for those ends she was entended : 
 Which were, and still her ofiices are known, 
 Law is to give to evry one his owne. 
 To shore the feeble up, against the strong ; 
 To shield the stranger, and the poore from wrong : 
 This was the founders grave and good intent, 
 To keepe the out-cast in his tenement : 
 To free the orphan from that wolfe-like-man, 
 Who is his butcher more then guardian. 
 To drye the widowes teares ; and stop her swoones, 
 By pouring balme and oyle into her wounds. 
 This was the old way ; and 'tis yet thy course, 
 To keep those pious principles in force. 
 Modest I will be ; but one word Tie say 
 (Like to a sound that's vanishing away) 
 Sooner the in-side of thy hand shall grow 
 Hisped, and hairie, ere thy palm shall know
 
 216 HESPERIDES. 
 
 A postern -bribe tooke, or a forked-fee 
 To fetter Justice, when she might be free. 
 Eggs He not shave : but yet, brave man, if I 
 Was destin'd forth to golden soveraignty : 
 A prince I'de be, that I might thee preferre 
 To be my counsell both, and chanceller. 
 
 The Watch. 
 
 IWTAN is a watch, wound up at first, but never 
 ^^^ Wound up again : once down, he's down for 
 ever. 
 
 The watch once downe, all motions then do cease ; 
 
 And mans pulse stopt. All passions sleep in peace. 
 
 Lines have their Linings, and Bookes their 
 Buckram. 
 
 A S in our clothes, so likewise he who lookes, 
 ■^ *- Shall find much farcing buckram in our books. 
 
 Art above Nature, to Juma. 
 
 A "\ T^HEN I behold a forrest spread 
 
 * * With silken trees upon thy head ; 
 And when I see that other dresse 
 Of flowers set in comlinesse : 
 When I behold another grace 
 In the ascent of curious lace. 
 Which like a pinacle doth shew 
 The top, and the top-gallant too. 
 Then, when I see thy tresses bound 
 Into an ovall, square, or round ; 
 And knit in knots far more then I 
 Can tell by tongue ; or true-love tie : 
 Next, when those lawnie filnies I see 
 Play with a wild civility : 
 And all those airie silks to flow. 
 Alluring me, and tempting so :
 
 HESPERIDES. 217 
 
 I must confesse, mine eye and heart 
 Dotes less on Isature, then on Art. 
 
 Upon Sibilla. 
 
 WITH paste of almonds, Syb her hands doth 
 seoure ; 
 Then gives it to the children to devoure. 
 In cream she bathes her thighs, mors soft then silk, 
 Then to the poore she freely gives the milke. 
 
 Upon his Kinswoman Mistkesse Bridget 
 Herrick. 
 
 SWEET Bridget blusht, & therewithal!, 
 Fresh blossoms from her cheekes did fall. 
 I thought at first 'twas but a dream. 
 Till after I had handled them ; 
 And smelt them, then they smelt to me, 
 As blossomes of the almond tree. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 I PLAID with Love, as with the fire 
 The wanton Satyre did ; 
 Xor did I know, or co'd descry 
 
 What under there was hid. 
 
 That Satyre he but burnt his lips ; 
 
 (But min's the greater smart) 
 For kissing Loves dissembling chips. 
 
 The fire scorcht my heart. 
 
 Upon a Comely, and Curious Maide. 
 
 IF men can say that beauty dyes ; 
 Marbles will sweare that here it lyes. ^ 
 If, reader, then thou canst forbeare. 
 In publique loss to shed a teare : 
 The dew of griefe upon this stone 
 Will tell thee pitie thou hast none.
 
 >; 
 
 •218 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon the Losse of his Finger. 
 
 ONE of the five straight branches of my hand 
 Is lopt already ; and the rest but stand 
 Expecting when to fall : which soon will be ; 
 First dyes the leafe, the bough next, next the tree. 
 
 Upon Irene. 
 
 ANGRY if Irene be 
 But a minutes life with me : 
 Such a fire I espie 
 Walking in and out her eye, 
 As at once I freeze, and frie. 
 
 Upon Electra's Teares. 
 
 LTPON her cheekes she wept, and from those 
 ' showers 
 
 Sprang up a sweet nativity of flowres. 
 
 Upon Toolt. 
 
 THE eggs of pheasants wrie-nosed Tooly sells'; 
 But ne'r so much as licks the speckled shells : 
 Only, if one prove addled, that he eates 
 With superstition, as the cream of meates. 
 The cock and hen he feeds ; but not a bone 
 He ever pickt, as yet, of any one. 
 
 A Hymne to the Graces. 
 
 WHEN I love, (as some have told. 
 Love I shall when I am old) 
 O ye Graces ! make me fit 
 For the welcoming of it. 
 Clean my roomes, as temples be, 
 T' entertain that deity.
 
 HESPERIDES. 219 
 
 Give me words wherewith to wooe, 
 Suppling and successefuU too : 
 Winning postures ; and withall, 
 Manners each way musicall : 
 Sweetnesse to allay my sowre 
 And unsmooth behaviour. 
 For I know you have the skill 
 Vines to prune, though not to kill, 
 And of any wood ye see. 
 You can make a Mercury. 
 
 To Silvia. 
 
 IV TO more, my Silvia, do 1 mean to pray 
 
 -^ ^ For those good dayes that ne'r will come away. 
 
 I want beliefe ; O gentle Silvia, be 
 
 The patient saint, and send up vowes for me. 
 
 Upon Blanch. Epig. 
 
 T HAVE seen many maidens to have haire ; 
 -^ Both for their comely need, and some to spare ; 
 But Blanch has not so much upon her head, 
 As to bind up her chaps when she is dead. 
 
 Upon Umber. Epig. 
 
 UMBER was painting of a lyon fierce, 
 And working it, by chance from Umbers erse 
 Flew out a crack, so mighty, that the fart, 
 (As Umber sweares) did make his lyon start. 
 
 The Poet hath lost his Pipe. 
 
 I CANNOT pipe as I was wont to do, 
 Broke is my reed, hoarse is my singing too : 
 My wearied oat He hang upon the tree. 
 And jiive it to the silvan deitie.
 
 220 HESPERTDES. 
 
 Tkue Friendship. 
 
 "\ ^ riLT thou my true friend be ? 
 * * Then love not mine, but me. 
 
 The Apparition of his Mistresse calling him 
 TO Elizium. 
 
 Desunt nonnullu 
 
 COME then, and like two doves with silv'rie wings, 
 Let our soules flie to'the'shades, where ever 
 springs 
 Sit smiling in the meads ; where balme and oile, 
 Roses and cassia crown the untill'd soyle. 
 Where no disease raignes, or infection comes 
 To blast the aire, but amber-greece and gums. 
 This, that, and ev'ry thicket doth transpire 
 More sweet, then storax from the hallowed fire : 
 Where ev'ry tree a wealthy issue beares 
 Of fragrant apples, blushing plums, or peares : 
 And all the shrubs, with sparkling spangles, shew 
 Like morning-sun-shine tinsilling the dew. 
 Here in green meddowes sits eternall May, 
 Purfling the margents, while perpetuall day 
 So double gilds the aire, as that no night 
 Can ever rust th'enamel of the light. 
 Here, naked younglings handsome striplings run 
 Their soales for vir<jins kisses ; which when done, 
 Then unto dancing forth the learned round 
 Commixt they meet, with endlesse roses crown'd. 
 And here we'l sit on primrose-banks, and see 
 Love's chorus led by Cupid ; and we'l be 
 Two loving followers too unto the grove. 
 Where poets sing the stories of our love. 
 There thou shalt hear divine Musseus sing 
 Of Hero, and Leander ; then He bring
 
 HESPERIDES. 221 
 
 Thee to the stand, where honour'd Homer reades 
 
 His Odisees, and his high Iliads. 
 
 About whose throne the crowd of poets throng 
 
 To heare the incantation of his tongue : 
 
 To Linus, then to Pindar ; and that done. 
 
 He bring thee Herrick to Anacreon, 
 
 Quaffing his full-crown'd bowles of burning wine, 
 
 And in his raptures speaking lines of thine, 
 
 Like to his subject ; and as his frantick- 
 
 Looks, shew him truly Bacchanalian like, 
 
 Besmear'd with grapes ; welcome he shall thee 
 
 thither. 
 Where both may rage, both drink and dance to- 
 gether. 
 Then stately Virgil, witty Ovid, by 
 Whom faire Corinna sits, and doth comply 
 With yvorie wrists, his laurcat head, and steeps 
 His eye in dew of kisses, while he sleeps. 
 Then soft Catullus, sharp-fang'd Martial, 
 And towriug Lucan, Horace, Juvenal, 
 And snakie Perseus, these, and those, whom rage 
 (Dropt for the jarres of heaven) hll'd t'engage 
 All times unto their frenzies ; thou shalt there 
 Behold them in a spacious theater. 
 Among which glories, crown'd with sacred bayes, 
 And flatt'ring ivie, two recite their plaies, 
 Beumont and Fletcher, swans, to whom all earts 
 Listen, while they, like syrens in their spheres, 
 Sing their Evadne ; and still more for thee 
 There yet remaines to know, then thou can'st see 
 By glim'riug of a fancie : doe but come. 
 And there He shew thee that capacious roome 
 In which thy father Johnson now is plac't, 
 As in a globe of radiant fire, and grac't 
 To be in that orbe crown'd, that doth include 
 Those prophets of the former magnitude. 
 And he one chiefe ; but harke, I heare the cock. 
 The bell-man of the night, proclaime the clock
 
 222 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Of late struck one; and now I see the prime 
 Of day break from the pregnant east, 'tis time 
 I vanish ; more I had to say ; 
 But night determines here, away. 
 
 Life is the Bodies Light. 
 
 T IFE is the bodies light ; which once declining, 
 -*— ' Those crimson clouds Ith'cheeks & lips leave 
 
 shinincr. 
 Those counter-changed tabbies in the ayre. 
 The sun once set, all of one colour are. 
 So, when death comes, fresh tinctures lose their 
 
 place. 
 And dismall darknesse then doth smutch the face. 
 
 Upon Ukles. Epig. 
 
 URLES had the gout so, that he co'd not stand ; 
 Then from his feet, it shifted to his hand : 
 When 'twas in's feet, his charity was small ; 
 Now tis in's hand, he gives no almes at all. 
 
 Upon Franck. 
 
 FRANCK ne'r wore silk she sweares ; but 1 reply, 
 She now weares silk to hide her blood-shot eye. 
 
 LOA'E LIGHTLY PLEASED. 
 
 4^. T ET faire or foule my mistresse be, 
 
 -• — ' Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me : 
 Or let her walk, or stand, or sit. 
 The posture hers, I'm pleas'd with it. 
 Or let her tongue be still, or stir, 
 Gracefull is ev'ry thing from Iier. 
 Or let her grant, or else deny, 
 My love will Jit each historie.
 
 HESPERIDES. 223 
 
 The Primrose. 
 
 ASKE me why I send you here 
 This sweet Infanta of the yeere ? 
 Aske me why I send to you 
 This primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew ? 
 
 I will whisper to your eares, 
 The sweets of love are mixt with tears. 
 
 Ask me why this flower do's show 
 So yellow -green, and sickly too ? 
 
 Ask me why the stalk is weak 
 And bending, yet it doth not break ? 
 
 I will answer, These discover 
 What fainting hopes are in a lover. 
 
 The Tytue. To the Bride. 
 
 IF nine times you your bride-groome ki.sse ; 
 The tenth you know the parsons is. 
 Pay then your tythe ; and doing thus, 
 Prove in your bride-bed numerous. 
 If children you have ten, Sir John 
 Won't for his tenth part ask you one. 
 
 A Frojlick. 
 
 BRING me my rose-buds, Drawer, come ; 
 So, while I thus sit crown'd ; 
 He drink the aged Cecubum, 
 
 Untill the roofe turne round. 
 
 Change common to all. 
 
 ALL things subjected are to fate ; 
 Whom this morne sees most fortunate. 
 The ev'ning sees in poore estate.
 
 2-24 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To Julia. 
 
 THE saints-bell calls ; and, Julia, I must read 
 The proper lessons for the saints now dead : 
 To grace which service, Julia, there shall be 
 One Holy Collect, said or sung for thee. 
 Dead when thou art, deare Julia, thou shalt have 
 A tentrall sung by virgins o're thy grave : 
 Meane time we two will sing the dirge of these ; 
 Who dead, deserve our best remembrances. 
 
 No Luck in Love. 
 
 DOE love I know not what; 
 Sometimes this, & sometimes that : 
 All conditions I aime at. 
 
 But, as lucklesse, I have yet 
 Many shrewd disasters met, 
 To gaine her whom I wo'd get. 
 
 Therefore now He love no more. 
 
 As I've doted heretofore : 
 
 He who must be, shall be poore. 
 
 In the Dabke none dainty. 
 
 NIGHT hides our thefts ; all faults then pardon'd 
 be: 
 All are alike faire, when no spots we see. 
 Lais and Lucrece, in the night time are 
 Pleasing alike ; alike both singular : 
 Jone, and my lady have at that time one, 
 One and the selfe-same priz'd cohiplexion. 
 Then please alike the pewter and the plate ; 
 The chosen ruble, and the reprobate.
 
 HESPERIDES. 225 
 
 A Charme, OB AN Allay for Love. 
 
 IF so be a toad be laid 
 In a sheeps-skin newly flaid, 
 And that ty'd to man 'twil sever 
 Him and his affections ever. 
 
 Upon a free Maid, with a foule Breath. 
 
 YOU say you'l kiss me, and I thanke you for it : 
 But stinking breath, I do as hell abhorre it. 
 
 w 
 
 Upon Coone. Epig. 
 
 HAT is the reason Coone so dully smels ? 
 His nose is over-cool'd with isicles. 
 
 To HIS Brother in Law Master John 
 
 WlNGFIELD. 
 
 FOR being comely, consonant, and free 
 To most of men, but most of all to me : 
 For so decreeing, that thy clothes expence 
 Keepes still within a just circumference: 
 Then for contriving so to loade thy board, 
 As that the messes ne'r o'r-laid the lord : 
 Next for ordaining, that thy words not swell 
 To any one unsober syllable. 
 These I co'd praise thee for beyond another, 
 Wert thou a Winckfield onely, not a brother. 
 
 The Head-akj!. 
 
 MY head doth ake, 
 O Sappho ! take 
 Thy ffllit. 
 And bind the paine ; 
 Or bring some bane^ 
 To klU it. 
 Q
 
 226 HESPERIDES. 
 
 But lesse that part, 
 Then my poore heart, 
 
 Now is sick : 
 One kisse from thee 
 Will counsell be, 
 
 And physick. 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 LIVE by thy muse thou shalt ; when others die. 
 Leaving no fame to long posterity : 
 When monarchies trans-shifted are, and gone ; 
 Here shall endure thy vast dominion. 
 
 Upon a Maibe. 
 
 HENCE a blessed soule is fled. 
 Leaving here the body dead ; 
 Which, since here they can't combine, 
 For the saint, we'l keep the shrine. 
 
 o 
 
 Upon Spajlt. 
 
 F pushes Spalt has such a knottie race. 
 He needs a tucker for to burle his face. 
 
 Of Horne, a Comb-makek. 
 
 HORNE sells to others teeth ; but has not one 
 To grace his own gums, or of box, or bone. 
 
 Upon the troublesome Times. 
 
 ! times most bad, 
 Without the scope 
 Of hope 
 Of better to be had ! 
 
 o 
 
 AVhere shall I goe. 
 Or whither run 
 To shun 
 This publique overthrow ?
 
 HESPERIDES. 227 
 
 No places are 
 (This I am sure) 
 Secure 
 In this our wasting warre. 
 
 Some storms w'ave past ; 
 Yet we must all 
 Down fall, 
 And perish at the last. 
 
 Cruelty base in Commanders. 
 
 IVTOTHING can be more loathsome, then to see 
 ^ ^ Power conjojn'd with natures crueltie. 
 
 Upon a sowre-breath Lady. Epig. 
 
 T7IE, (quoth my lady) what a stink is here ? 
 
 -*- When 'twas her breath that was the carrionere. 
 
 Upon Lucia. 
 
 IASKT my Lucia but a kisse ; 
 And she with scorne deny'd me this : 
 Say then, how ill sho'd I have sped, 
 Had I then askt her maidenhead ? 
 
 Little and Loud. 
 
 T ITTLE you are ; for woraans sake be proud ; 
 J— ' For my sake next, (though little) be not loud. 
 
 Ship-wrack. 
 
 T T E, who has sufFer'd ship-wrack, feares to saile 
 -^ J- Upon the seas, though with a gentle gale. 
 
 Paines without Profit. 
 
 ALONG-lifes-day I've taken paines 
 For very little, or no gaines : 
 The ev'ning's come ; here now He stop, 
 And work no more ; but shut up shop.
 
 228 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To HIS BOOKE. 
 
 BE bold, my booke, nor be abasht, or feare 
 The cutting thumb-naile, or the brow severe. 
 But by the Muses sweare, all here is good. 
 If but well read ; or ill read, understood. 
 
 His Prater to Ben. Johnson. 
 
 WHEN I a verse shall make, 
 Know I have praid thee, 
 For old religions sake. 
 Saint Ben, to aide me. 
 
 Make the way smooth for me, 
 Wben I, thy Herrick, 
 Honouring thee, on my knee 
 Offer my lyrick. 
 
 Candles lie give to thee, 
 And a new altar ; 
 And thou. Saint Ben, shalt be 
 Writ in my Psalter. 
 
 Poverty and Riches. 
 
 GIVE Want her welcome if she comes ; we find, 
 Eiches to be but burthens to the mind. 
 
 W 
 
 Again. 
 
 HO with a little cannot be content, 
 Endures an everlasting punishment. 
 
 The Covetous still Captives. 
 
 LET'S live with that sraal pittance that we have ; 
 Who covets more, is evermore a slave. 
 
 Lawes. 
 
 WHEN lawes full power have to sway, we see 
 Little or no part there of tyrannie.
 
 HESPERIDES. 229 
 
 Of Love. 
 
 I 
 
 LE get me hence, 
 Because no fence, 
 Or fort that I can make here ; 
 But Love by charmes. 
 Or else by armes 
 Will storme, or starving take here. 
 
 Upon Cock.. 
 
 COCK calls his wife his hen : when Cock goes too't, 
 Cock treads his hen, but treads her under-foot. 
 
 G 
 
 To HIS Muse. 
 
 O wooe young Charles no more to looke. 
 Then but to read this in my booke : 
 
 How Herrick beggs, if that he can- 
 Not like the muse ; to love the man. 
 Who by the shepheards, sung, long since. 
 The starre-led-birth of Charles the Prince. 
 
 The bad Season makes the Poet sad. 
 
 DULL to my selfe, and almost dead to these 
 My many fresh and fragrant mistresses : 
 Lost to all musick now ; since every thing 
 Puts on the semblance here of sorrowingr. 
 Sick is the land to'th' heart ; and doth endure 
 More dangerous faintings by her desp'rate cure. 
 But if that golden age wo'd come again, 
 And Charles here rule, as he before did raign ; 
 If smooth and unperplext the seasons were, 
 As when the sweet Maria lived here : 
 I sho'd delight to have my curies halfe drown'd 
 In Tyrian dewes, and head with roses crown'd. 
 And once more yet (ere I am laid out dead) 
 Knock at a starve with my exalted head.
 
 230 HESPERIDES. 
 
 To Vulcan. 
 
 ' I ""HY sooty godhead, I desire 
 -*- Still to be ready with thy fire : 
 That sho'd my booke despised be, 
 Acceptance it might find of thee. 
 
 Like Pattern, like PEorLE. 
 
 THIS is the height of justice, that to doe 
 Thy selfe^ which thou pufst other men unto. 
 As great men lead; the meaner follow 07i, 
 Or to the good, or evill action. 
 
 Purposes. 
 
 NO wrath of men, or rage of seas 
 Can shake a just mans pui-poses : 
 No threats of tyrants, or the grim 
 Visage of them can alter him ; 
 But what he doth at first entend. 
 That he holds firmly to the end. 
 
 To THE Maids to walke abroad. 
 
 COME sit we under yonder tree, 
 Where merry as the maids we'l be. 
 And as on primroses we sit, 
 We'l venter (if we can) at wit : 
 If not, at draw -gloves we will play ; 
 So spend some minutes of the day : 
 Or else spin out the thread of sands. 
 Playing at questions and commands : 
 Or tell what strange tricks Love can do, 
 By quickly making one of two. 
 Thus we will sit and talke ; but tell 
 No cruell truths of Philomell, 
 Or Phillls, whom hard Fate forc't on. 
 To kill her selfe for Demophon. 
 But fables we'l relate ; how Jove 
 Put on all shapes to get a love :
 
 HESPERIDES. 231 
 
 As now a satyr, then a swan ; 
 A bull but then ; and now a man. 
 Next we will act, how young men wooe ; 
 And sigh, and kiss, as lovers do : 
 And talke of brides ; & who shall make 
 That wedding-smock, this bridal-cake ; 
 That dress, this sprig, that leaf, this vine ; 
 That smooth and silken Columbine. 
 This done, we'l draw lots, who shall buy 
 And guild the bales and rosemary : 
 What posies for our wedding rings ; 
 ^Miat gloves we'l give, and ribanings : 
 And smiling at our selves, decree. 
 Who then the joyning priest shall be. 
 What short sweet prayers shall be said \ 
 And how the posset shall be made 
 With cream of lillies (not of kine) 
 And maiden's-blush, for spiced wine. 
 Thus, having talkt, we'l next commend 
 A kiss to each ; and so we'l end. 
 
 His OWN Epitaph. 
 
 AS wearied pilgrims, once possest 
 Of long'd-for lodging, go to rest : 
 So I, now having rid my way ; 
 Fix here my button'd staffe and stay. 
 Youth (I confess) hath me mis-led; 
 But age hath brought me right to bed. 
 
 A NuPTiALL Verse to Mistresse Elizabeth Lee, 
 NOW Lady Tracie. 
 
 SPRING with the larke, most comely bride, and 
 meet 
 Your eager bridegroome with auspitious feet. 
 The morn's f\irre spent ; and the immortall Sunne 
 Corrols his cheeke, to see those rites not done.
 
 232 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Fie, lovely maid ! Indeed you are too slow, 
 When to the temple Love sho'd runne, not go. 
 Dispatch your dressing then ; and quickly wed: 
 Then feast, and coy't a little ; then to bed. 
 This day is Loves day ; and this busie night 
 Is yours, in which you challeng'd are to fight 
 With such an arm'd, but such an easie foe, 
 As will if you yeeld, lye down conquer'd too. 
 The field is pitch't ; but such must be your warres. 
 As that your kisses must out-vie the starres. 
 Fall down together vanquisht both, and lye 
 Drown'd in the bloud of rubies there, not die. 
 
 The Night-piece, to Julia. 
 
 HER eyes the glow-worme lend thee. 
 The shooting starres attend thee ; 
 And the elves also. 
 Whose little eyes glow, 
 Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. 
 
 No Will-o'th'-Wispe mis-light thee ; 
 Nor snake, or slow-worme bite thee : 
 
 But on, on thy way 
 
 Not making a stay, 
 Since ghost ther's none to affright thee. 
 
 Let not the darke thee cumber ; 
 
 What though the moon do's slumber ? 
 The starres of the night 
 Will lend thee their light, 
 
 Like tapers cleare without number. 
 
 Then Julia let me wooe thee. 
 Thus, thus to come unto me : 
 
 And when I shall meet 
 
 Thy silv'ry feet. 
 My soule I'le poure into thee.
 
 I 
 
 HESPERIDES. 233 
 
 To Sib Clipsebt Crew. 
 
 GIVE me wine, and give me meate, 
 To create in me a heate, 
 That my pulses high may beate. 
 
 Cold and hunger never yet 
 
 Co'd a noble verse beset ; 
 
 But your boules with sack repleat. 
 
 Give me these, my knight, and try 
 In a minutes space how I 
 Can runne mad, and prophesie. 
 
 Then if any peece proves new. 
 And rare, lie say, my dearest Crew, 
 It was full enspir'd by you. 
 
 Good Luck not lasting. 
 
 F well the dice runne, lets applaud the cast : 
 The happy fortune will not alwayes last. 
 
 A KissE. 
 
 ^^ 7"HAT is a kisse ? Why this, as some approve ; 
 ' ^ The sure sweet-sement, glue, and lime of love. 
 
 Glorib. 
 
 I MAKE no haste to have my numbers read. 
 Seldome comes glorie till a man be dead. 
 
 Poets. 
 
 WANTONS we are ; and though our words be 
 such, 
 Our lives do diflfer from our lines by much. 
 
 No Despight to the Dead. 
 
 REPROACH we may the living ; not the dead : 
 '7w cowardice to bite the buried. 
 
 'M
 
 234 HESPEUIDES. 
 
 To HIS Verses. 
 
 WHAT will ye, my poor orphans, do 
 When I must leave the world (and you) 
 Who'l give ye then a sheltring shed. 
 Or credit ye, when I am dead ? 
 Who'l let ye by their fire sit ? 
 Although ye have a stock of wit, 
 Already coin'd to pay for it, 
 I cannot tell ; unlesse there be 
 Some race of old humanitie 
 Left (of the large heart, and long hand) 
 Alive, as noble Westmorland ; 
 Or gallant Newark ; which brave two 
 May fost'ring fathers be to you. 
 If not ; expect to be no less 
 111 us'd, then babes left fatherless. 
 
 His Charge to Jdlia at his Death. 
 
 T^EAREST of thousands, now the time drawes 
 
 -*-^ neere, 
 
 That with my lines, my life must full-stop here. 
 
 Cut off thy haires ; and let thy teares be shed 
 
 Over my turfe, when I am buried. 
 
 Then for effusions, let none wanting be, 
 
 Or other rites that doe belong to me ; 
 
 As Love shall helpe thee, when thou do'st go hence 
 
 Unto thy everlasting residence. 
 
 I 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 N a dreame, Love bad me go 
 To the gallies there to rowe ; 
 In the vision I askt, why ? 
 Love as briefly did reply ; 
 'Twas better there to toyle, then prove 
 The turmoiles they endure that love. 
 I awoke, and then I knew 
 What Love said was too too true :
 
 HESPERIDES. 235 
 
 Henceforth therefore I will be 
 As from love, from trouble free. 
 None pities him that's in the snare, 
 And warn'd before, wdd not beware. 
 
 The Coblers Catch. 
 
 COME sit we by the fires side ; 
 And roundly drinke we here ; 
 Till that we see our cheekes ale-dy'd 
 And noses tann'd with beere. 
 
 Upon Bran. Epig. 
 
 ^1 /"HAT made that mirth last night, tlie neigh- 
 
 * * hours say, 
 
 That Bran the baker did his breech bewray : 
 I rather thinke, though they may speake the worst, 
 'Twas to his batch, but leaven laid there first. 
 
 Upon Snare, an Usurer. 
 
 C N"ARE, ten i'th' hundred calls his wife ; and why ? 
 '^ Shee brings in much, by carnall usury. 
 He by extortion brings in three times more ; 
 Say, who's the worst, th' exactor, or the whore ? 
 
 Upon Grudgings. 
 
 /^^RUDGINGS turnes bread to stones, when to 
 
 ^— ' the poore 
 
 He gives an almes, and chides them from his doore. 
 
 CONNCBII FlORES, or THE WeLL-WISHES AT 
 
 Weddings. 
 
 Chorus Sacerdotum. 
 
 WROM the temple to your honie 
 J- May a thousand blessings come ! 
 
 And a sweet concurring stream 
 
 Of all joyes, to joyn with them.
 
 236 HESPEB.IDES. 
 
 Chorus Juvenum. 
 
 Happy day 
 Make no long stay 
 Here 
 In thy sphere ; 
 But give thy place to night, 
 
 That she, . 
 
 As thee, 
 May be 
 Partaker of this sight. 
 And since it was thy care 
 To see the younglings wed ; 
 'Tis fit that night, the paire, 
 Sho'd see safe brought to bed. 
 
 Chorus Senum. 
 
 Go to your banquet then, but use delight. 
 So as to rise still with an appetite. 
 Love is a thing most nice ; and must be fed 
 To such a height ; but never surfeited. 
 What is beyond the mean is ever ill : 
 ^Tis best to feed love; hut not over-fill: 
 Go then discreetly to the bed of pleasure ; 
 And this remember, Vertue keepes the measure. 
 
 Chorus Yirginum. 
 
 Luckie signes we have discri'd 
 To encourage on the bride ; 
 And to these we have espi'd, 
 Not a kissing Cupid flyes 
 Here about, but has his eyes. 
 To imply your love is wise. 
 
 Chorus Pastorum, 
 
 Here we present a fleece 
 To make a peece 
 Of cloth ; 
 Nor, faire, must you be loth
 
 HESPERIDES.* 237 
 
 Your finger to apply 
 To huswiferie. 
 Then, then begin 
 To spin : 
 And, sweetling, marke you, what a web will come 
 Into your chests, drawn by your painfull thumb. 
 
 Chorus Matronarum. 
 
 Set you to your wheele, and wax 
 Rich, by the ductile wool and flax. 
 Yarne is an income ; and the huswives thread 
 The larder fils with meat ; the bin with bread. 
 
 Chorus Senum. 
 
 Let wealth come in by comely thrift, 
 And not by any sordid shift : 
 'Tis haste 
 Makes waste : 
 Extreames have still their fault ; 
 The softest fire makes the sweetest mault. 
 Who gripes too hard the dry and sliprie saTid, 
 Holds none at all, or little in his hand. 
 
 Chorus Virginum. 
 
 Goddesse of pleasure, youth, and peace. 
 Give them the blessing of encrease : 
 And thou, Lucina, that do'st heare 
 The vowes of those, that children beare : 
 When as her Aprill houre drawea neare. 
 Be thou then propitious there. 
 
 Chorus Juvenum, 
 
 Farre hence be all speech, that may anger move : 
 Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle lox>e. 
 
 Chorus omnium. 
 
 Live in the love of doves, and having told 
 
 The ravens yeares, go hence more ripe then old.
 
 238 ' HESPERIDES. 
 
 To HIS LOVELY MiSTRESSES. 
 
 ONE night i'th'yeare, my dearest beauties, come 
 And bring those dew-drink-offerings to my 
 tomb. 
 When thence ye see my reverend ghost to rise, 
 And there to lick th' effused sacrifice : 
 Though palenes be the livery that I weare, 
 Looke ye not wan, or colourlesse for feare. 
 Trust me, I will not hurt ye ; or once shew 
 The least grim looke, or cast a frown on you : 
 Nor shall the tapers when I'm there, burn blew. 
 This I may do, perhaps, as I glide by, 
 Cast on my girles a glance, and loving eye : 
 Or fold mine amies and sigh, because I've lost 
 The world so soon, and in it, you the most. 
 Then these, no feares more on your fancies fall, 
 Though then I smile, and speake no words at all. 
 
 Upon Love. 
 
 ACHRISTALL violl Cupid brought, 
 Which had a juice in it : 
 Of which who drank, he said no thought 
 Of Love he sho'd admit. 
 
 I greedy of the prize, did drinke, 
 
 And emptied soon the glasse ; 
 Which burnt me so, that I do thinke 
 
 The fire of hell it was. 
 
 Give me my earthen cups again, 
 
 The christall I contemne ; 
 Which, though enchas'd with pearls, contain 
 
 A deadly draught in them. 
 
 And thou, O Cupid ! come not to 
 
 My threshold, since I see, 
 For all I have, or else can do. 
 
 Thou still wilt cozen me.
 
 HESPERIDES. 239 
 
 Upon Gander. Epig. 
 
 O INCE Gander did his prettie youngling wed; 
 ^ Gander, they say, doth each night pisse a bed : 
 What is the cause ? ^Vhy, Gander will reply. 
 No goose layes good eggs that is ti'odden drxje. 
 
 Upon Lungs. Epig. 
 
 T UXGS, as some say, ne'r sets him down to eate, 
 -»— ' But that his breath do's fly-blow all the meate. 
 
 The Beggar to Mab, the Fairie Queen. 
 
 TT) LEASE your grace, from out your store, 
 
 -^ Give an almes to one that's poore. 
 
 That your mickle^ may have more. 
 
 Black I'm grown for want of meat ; 
 
 Give me then an ant to eate; 
 
 Or the cleft eare of a mouse 
 
 Over-sowr'd in drinke of souce : 
 
 Or, sweet lady, reach to me 
 
 The abdomen of a bee ; 
 
 Or commend a crickets-hip, 
 
 Or his huckson, to my scrip. 
 
 Give for bread, a little bit 
 
 Of a pease, that 'gins to chit, 
 
 And my full thanks take for it. 
 
 Floure of fuz-balls, that's too sfood 
 
 For a man in needy-hood : 
 
 But the meal of mill-dust can 
 
 Well content a cravinsr man. 
 
 Any orts the elves refuse 
 
 Well will serve the beggars use. 
 
 But if this may seem too much 
 
 For an almes ; then give me such 
 
 Little bits, that nestle there 
 
 In the pris'ners punier.
 
 240 HESPERIDES. 
 
 So a blessing light upon 
 You, and mighty Oberon : 
 That your plenty last till when, 
 I return your almes agen. 
 
 An End decreed. 
 
 LET'S be jocund while we may ; 
 All things have an ending day : 
 And when once the work is done ; 
 Fates revolve no flax tJiave spun. 
 
 Upon a Child. 
 
 T T ERE a pretty baby lies 
 -*- J- Sung asleep with lullabies : 
 Pray be silent, and not stirre 
 Th' easie earth that covers her. 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 Painting sometimes permitted. 
 
 F nature do deny 
 Colours, let art supply. 
 
 Farwell Frost, or welcome Spring. 
 
 FLED are the frosts, and now the fields appeare 
 Re-cloth'd in fresh and verdant diaper. 
 Thaw'd are the snowes, and now the lusty spring 
 Gives to each mead a neat enameling. 
 The palms put forth their gemmes, and every tree 
 Now swaggers in her leavy gallantry. 
 The while the Daulian minstrell sweetly sings 
 With warbling notes, her Tyrrean sufferings. 
 What gentle winds perspire ? As if here 
 Never had been the northern plunderer 
 To strip the trees, and fields, to their distresse, 
 Leaving them to a pittied nakednesse. 
 And look how when a frantick storme doth tear
 
 HESPERIDES. 241 
 
 A stubborn oake, or holme (long growino- there) 
 But lul'd to calmnesse, then succeeds a breeze 
 That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of trees : 
 So when this war, which tempest-like doth spoil 
 Our salt, our corn, our honie, wine, and oile. 
 Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast 
 His inconsiderate frenzie off (at last) 
 The gentle dove may, when these turmoils cease. 
 Bring in her bill, once more, the branch of peace. 
 
 The Hag. 
 
 T' 
 
 ^HE hag is astride. 
 This night for to ride ; 
 The devill and shee together : 
 
 Through thick, and through thin. 
 Now out, and then in, 
 Though ne'r so foule be the weather. 
 
 A thorn or a burr 
 
 She takes for a spurre : 
 With a lash of a bramble she rides now, 
 
 Through brakes and through bryars, 
 
 O're ditches, and mires. 
 She followes the spirit that guides now. 
 
 No beast, for his food. 
 
 Dares now range the wood ; 
 But husht in his laire he lies lurking ; 
 
 \Vhile mischeifs, by these. 
 
 On land and on seas. 
 At noone of night are a working. 
 
 The storme will arise. 
 
 And trouble the skies ; 
 This night, and more for the wonder, 
 
 The gliost from the tomb 
 
 Affrighted shall come, 
 Cal'd out by the clap of the thunder. 
 
 B
 
 242 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon an old Man a Restdenciarie. 
 
 TREAD, sirs, as lightly as ye can 
 Upon the grave of this old man. 
 Twice fortie (bating but one year, 
 And thrice three weekes) he lived here. 
 Whom gentle fate translated hence 
 To a more happy residence. 
 Yet, reader, let me tell thee this, 
 Which from his ghost a promise is, 
 If here ye will some few teares shed, 
 He'l never haunt ye now he's dead. 
 
 Upon Teares. 
 
 TEARES, though th'are here below the sinners 
 brine, 
 Above they are the angels spiced wine. 
 
 Phtsitians. 
 
 PHYSITIANS fight not against men ; but these 
 Combate for men, by conquering the disease. 
 
 The Primiti^ to Parents. 
 
 OUR houshold-gods our parents be ; 
 And manners good require, that we 
 The first fruits give to them, who gave 
 Us hands to get what here we have. 
 
 o 
 
 Upon Cob. Epig. 
 
 COB clouts his shooes, and as the story tells, 
 His thumb-nailes-par'd, afford him sperrables. 
 
 s 
 
 Upon Lucie. Epig. 
 
 OUND teeth has Lucie, pure as pearl, and small, 
 With mellow lips, and luscious there withall.
 
 HESPERIDES. 243 
 
 Upon Skoles. Epig. 
 
 SKOLES stinks so deadly, that his breeches loath 
 His dampish buttocks furthermore to cloath : 
 Cloy'd they are up with arse ; but hope, one blast 
 Will whirle about, aud blow them thence at last. 
 
 To Silvia. 
 
 I AM holy, while I stand 
 Circum-crost by thy pure hand : 
 But when that is gone ; again, 
 I, as others, am prophane. 
 
 To HIS Closet-Gods. 
 
 WHEiST I goe hence, ye closet-gods, I feare 
 Never againe to have ingression here ; 
 Where I have had, what ever things co'd be 
 Pleasant, and precious to my muse and me. 
 Besides rare sweets, I had a book which none 
 Co'd reade the intext but my selfe alone. 
 About the cover of this book there went 
 A curious-comely clean compartlement : 
 And, in the midst, to grace it more, was set 
 A blushing-pretty- peeping rubelet : 
 But now 'tis clos'd; and being shut, & seal'd. 
 Be it, O be it, never more reveal'd ! 
 Keep here still, closet-gods, 'fore whom I've set 
 Oblations oft, of sweetest marmelet. 
 
 A Bacchanalian Verse. 
 
 FILL me a mighty bowle 
 Up to the brim : 
 That I may drink 
 Unto my Johnsons soule.
 
 244 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Crowne it agen agen ; 
 
 And thrice repeat 
 That happy heat ; 
 To drink to thee my Ben. 
 
 Well I can quaffe, I see, 
 
 To th' number five, 
 Or nine ; but thrive 
 , In frenzie ne'r like thee. 
 
 Long lookt for comes at last. 
 
 THOUGH long it be, yeeres may repay the debt ; 
 None loseth that, which he in time may get. 
 
 D 
 
 To Youth. 
 
 RINK wine, and live here blithefull, while yc 
 may : 
 The morrowes life too late is, live to-day. 
 
 Never too late to dye. 
 
 NO man comes late unto that place from whence 
 Never man yet had a regredience. 
 
 A Htmne to the Muses. 
 
 O! YOU the virgins nine ! 
 That doe our soules encline 
 To noble discipline ! 
 Nod to this vow of mine : 
 Come then, and now enspire 
 My violl and my lyre 
 With your eternall fire : 
 And make me one entire 
 Composer in your quire. 
 Then Tie your altars strew 
 With roses sweet and new ; 
 And ever live a true 
 Acknowledger of you.
 
 HESPERIDES. 245 
 
 On Himselfe. 
 
 T LE sing no more, nor will I longer write 
 -*- Of that sweet lady, or that gallant knight : 
 lie sing no more of frosts, snowes, dews and showers ; 
 No more of groves, meades, springs, and wreaths of 
 
 flowers : 
 He write no more, nor will I tell or sing 
 Of Cupid, and his wittie coozning : 
 He sing no more of death, or shall the grave 
 No more my dirges, and my trentalls have. 
 
 Upon Jone and Jane. 
 
 J ONE is a wench that's painted ; 
 Jone is a girle that's tainted ; 
 Yet Jone she goes 
 Like one of those 
 Whom purity had sainted. 
 
 Jane is a girle that's prittie ; 
 Jane is a wench that's wittie ; 
 
 Yet, who wo'd think, 
 
 Her breath do's stinke, 
 As so it doth ? that's pittie. 
 
 To MOMDS. 
 
 WHO read'st this book that I have writ, 
 And can'st not mend, but carpe at it : 
 By all the muses ! thou shalt 
 Anathema to it, and me. 
 
 Ambition. 
 
 IN wayes to greatnesse, think on this, 
 That slippery all ambition is.
 
 246 HESPERIDES. 
 
 The Country Life, to the honoueed M. Ent>. 
 
 Porter, Groome of the Bed-Chambek 
 
 TO His Maj. 
 
 SWEET country life, to such unknown, 
 AVhose lives are others, not their own ! 
 But serving courts, and cities, be 
 Less happy, less enjoying thee. 
 Thou never plow'st the oceans foame 
 To seek, and bring rough pepper home : 
 Nor to the Eastern Tnd dost rove 
 To brine: from thence the scorched clove. 
 Nor, with the losse of thy lov'd rest, 
 Bring'st home the ingot from the West. 
 No, thy ambition's master-piece 
 Flies no thought higher then a fleece : 
 Or how to pay thy hinds, and cleere 
 All scores ; and so to end the yeere : 
 But walk'st about thine own dear bounds. 
 Not envying others larger grounds : 
 For well thou know'st, His not tK extent 
 Of land mahes life^ hit sweet content. 
 When now the cock (the plow-mans home) 
 Calls forth the lilly-wristed morne ; 
 Then to thy corn-fields thou dost goe. 
 Which though well soyl'd, yet thou dost know, 
 That the best compost for the lands 
 Is the wise masters feet, and hands. 
 There at the plough thou find'st thy teame. 
 With a hind whistling there to them : 
 And cheer'st them up, by singing how 
 The kingdoms portion is the plow. 
 This done, then to th' enameld meads 
 Thou go'st ; and as thy foot there treads, 
 Thou seest a present God-like power 
 Imprinted in each herbe and flower : 
 And smell'st the breath of great-ey'd kine, 
 Sweet as the blossomes of the vine.
 
 HESPERIDES. 247 
 
 Here thou behold'st thy large sleek neat 
 Unto the dew -laps up in meat : 
 And, as thou look'st, the wanton steere, 
 The heifer, cow, and oxe draw neere 
 To make a pleasing pastime there. 
 These seen, thou go'st to view thy flocks 
 Of sheep, safe from the wolfe and fox, 
 And tind'st their bellies there as full 
 Of short sweet grasse, as backs with wool. 
 And leav'st them, as they feed and fill, 
 A shepherd piping on a hill. 
 For sports, for pagentrie, and playes, 
 Thou hast thy eves, and holydayes • 
 On which the young men and maids meet, 
 To exercise their dancing feet : 
 Tripping the comely country round, 
 With datfadils and daisies crown'd. 
 Thy wakes, thy quintels, here thou hast. 
 Thy May-poles too with garlands grac't : 
 Thy Morris-dance ; thy Whitsun-ale ; 
 Thy sheerlng-feast, which never faile. 
 Thy harvest home ; thy wassaile bowle, 
 That's tost up after fox i'th' hole. 
 Thy mummeries ; thy Twelfe-tide kings 
 And queenes ; thy Christmas revellings : 
 Thy nut-browne mirth ; thy russet wit ; 
 And no man payes too deare for it. 
 To these, thou hast thy times to goe 
 And trace the hare i'th' trecherous snow : 
 Thy witty wiles to draw, and get 
 The larke into the trammell net : 
 Thou hast thy cockrood, and thy glade 
 To take the precious phesant made : 
 Thy lime-twigs, snares, and pit-falls then 
 To catch the pilfring birds, not men. 
 O happy life ! if that their good 
 The husbandmen but understood ! 
 Who all the day themselves doe please.
 
 \ 
 
 248 HESPERIDES. 
 
 And younglings, with such sports as these. 
 And, lying down, have nought t' affright 
 Sweet sleep, that makes more short the night. 
 
 Ccetera desunt 
 
 To Electba. 
 
 I DARE not ask a kisse ; 
 I dare not beg a smile ; 
 Lest having that, or this, 
 
 I might grow proud the while. 
 
 No, no, the utmost share 
 
 Of my desire, shall be 
 Onely to kisse that aire. 
 
 That lately kissed thee. 
 
 To HIS WORTHY Friend, M. Arthur Bartlt. 
 
 WHEN after many lusters thou shalt be 
 Wrapt up in seare-cloth with thine ancestrie : 
 When of thy ragg'd escutcheons shall be seene 
 So little left, as if they ne'r had been : 
 Thou shalt thy name have, and thy fames best trust, 
 Here with the generation of my just. 
 
 What kind of Mistresse he would have 
 
 BE the mistresse of my choice, 
 Cleane in manners, cleere in voice : 
 Be she witty, more then wise ; 
 Pure enough, though not precise : 
 Be she shewing in her dresse, 
 Like a civill wilderness ; 
 That the curious may detect 
 Order in a sweet neglect : 
 Be she rowling in her eye, 
 Tempting all the passers by : 
 And each ringlet of her haire, 
 An enchantment, or a snare,
 
 I 
 
 HESPEBIDES. 249 
 
 For to catch the lookers on ; 
 But her self held fast by none. 
 Let her Lucrece all day be, 
 Thais in the night, to me. 
 Be she such, as neither will 
 Famish me, nor over -Jill. 
 
 Upon Zelot. 
 
 S Zelot pure ? he is : ye see he weares 
 The signe of circumcision in his ear es. 
 
 The Rosemarie Bkanch. 
 
 GROW for two ends, it matters not at all, 
 Be't for my bridall, or my buriall. 
 
 Upon Madam Urslt. Epig. 
 
 FOR ropes of pearle, first INIadam Ursly showes 
 A chaine of cornes, pickt from her eares and 
 toes : 
 Then, next, to match Tradescant's curious shels, 
 Nailes from her fingers mew'd, she shewes : what els ? 
 Why then, forsooth, a carcanet is shown 
 Of teeth, as deaf as nuts, and all her own. 
 
 Upon Crab. Epig. 
 
 CRAB faces gownes with sundry furres ; 'tis 
 known. 
 He keeps the fox-furre for to face his own. 
 
 r 
 
 A Paran^ticall, or Advisive Verse, to his 
 Friend, M. John Wicks. 
 
 S this a life, to break thy sleep ? 
 To rise as soon as day doth peep ? 
 To tire thy patient oxe or asse 
 By noone, and let thy good dayes passe. 
 Not knowing this, that Jove decrees 
 Some mirth, t'adulce mans miseries ?
 
 250 HESPERIDES. 
 
 No ; 'tis a life, to have thine oyle, 
 
 Without extortion, from thy soyle : 
 
 Thy faithfuU fields to yeeld thee graine, 
 
 Although with some, yet little paine : 
 
 To have thy mind, and nuptiall bed, 
 
 With feares, and cares uncumbered : 
 
 A pleasing wife, tliat by thy side 
 
 Lies softly panting like a bride. 
 
 This is to live, and to endeere 
 
 Those minutes. Time has lent us here. 
 
 Then, while Fates suffer, live thou free, 
 
 As is that ayre that circles thee. 
 
 And crown thy temples too, and let 
 
 Thy servant, not thy own self, sweat. 
 
 To strut thy barnes with sheafs of wheat. 
 
 Time steals away like to a stream. 
 
 And we glide hence away with them. 
 
 No sound recalls the Iwures once fled. 
 
 Or roses, being unthered : 
 
 Nor us, my friend, when we are lost, 
 
 Like to a deaw, or melted frost. 
 
 Then live we mirthfull, while we should, 
 
 And turn the iron age to gold. 
 
 Let's feast, and frolick, sing, and play. 
 
 And thus lesse last, then live our day. 
 
 Whose life with care is overcast, 
 
 Tliat man's not said to live, but last : 
 
 Nor is't a life, seven yeares to tell. 
 
 But for to live that half seven ivell : 
 
 And that wee'l do ; as men, who know. 
 
 Some few sands spent, we hence must go, 
 
 Both to be blended in the urn, 
 
 From whence there's never a return. 
 
 Once seen, and no moee. 
 
 THOUSANDS each day passe by, which wee. 
 Once past and gone, no more shall see.
 
 HESPERIDES. 251 
 
 Love. 
 
 ' I ""HIS axiom I have often heard, 
 -*- Kings ought to be more lov'd, then fear d. 
 
 To M. Denham, on his Prospective Poem. 
 
 OR lookt I back unto the times hence flown, 
 To praise those muses, and dislike our own ? 
 Or did I walk those pean-gardens through, 
 To kick the flow'rs, and scorn their odours too? 
 I might, and justly, be reputed (here) 
 One nicely mad, or peevishly severe. 
 But by Apollo ! as I worship wit. 
 Where I have cause to burn perfumes to it : 
 So, I confesse, 'tis soniwhat to do well 
 In our high art, althougli we can't excell, 
 Like thee ; or dare the buskins to unloose 
 Of thy brave, bold, and sweet Maronian muse. 
 But since I'm cal'd, rare Denham, to be gone. 
 Take from thy Herrick this conclusion : 
 'Tis dignity in others, if they be 
 Crown'd poets ; yet live princes under thee : 
 The while their wreaths and purple robes do shine, 
 Lesse by their own jemms, then those beams of 
 thine. 
 
 A Htmne, to the Lares. 
 
 TT was, and still my care is, 
 -L To worship ye, the Lares, 
 With crowns of greenest parsley, 
 And garlick chives not scarcely : 
 For favours here to warme me. 
 And not by fire to harme me. 
 For gladding so my hearth here. 
 With inoffensive mirth here ; 
 That while the wassaile bowle here 
 AVith North-down ale doth troule here.
 
 252 HESTERTDES. 
 
 No sillable doth fall here, 
 
 To marre the mirth at all here. 
 
 For which, 6 chimney-keepers ! 
 
 (I dare not call ye sweej^ers) 
 
 So long as I am able 
 
 To keep a countrey-table, 
 
 Great be my fare, or small cheere, 
 
 I'le eat and drink up all here. 
 
 Deniall in Women no disheabtning to Men. 
 
 WOMEN, although they ne're so goodly make it, 
 Their fashion is, but to say no, to take it. 
 
 Adversity. 
 
 L 
 
 OVE is maintahid hy wealth ; when all is spent. 
 Adversity then breeds the discontent. 
 
 To Fortune. 
 
 TUMBLE me down, and I will sit 
 Upon my rulnes (smiling yet :) 
 Teare me to tatters ; yet I'le be 
 Patient in my necessitie. 
 Laugh at my scraps of cloaths, and shun 
 Me, as a fear'd infection : 
 Yet scarre-crow-like I'le walk, as one. 
 Neglecting thy derision. 
 
 To Anthea. 
 
 COME, Anthea, know thou this. 
 Love at no time idle is : 
 Let's be doing, though we play 
 But at push-pin, half the day : 
 Cliains of sweet bents let us make, 
 Captive one, or both, to take : 
 In which bondage we will lie, 
 Soules transfusing thus, and die.
 
 HESPERIDES. 253 
 
 Cruelties. 
 
 NERO commanded ; but withdrew his eyes 
 From the beholdinfi; death, and cruelties. 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 Perseverance. 
 
 AST thou begun an act? ne're then give o're: 
 No man despuires to do lohai's done hefore. 
 
 Upon his Verses. 
 
 WHAT off-spring other men have got, 
 The how, where, when, I question not. 
 These are the children I have left ; 
 Adopted some ; none got by theft. 
 But all are toucht, like law full plate, 
 And no verse illegitimate. 
 
 ^o 
 
 K 
 
 Distance betters Dignities. 
 
 INGS must not oft be seen by publike eyes ; 
 State at a distance adds to dignities. 
 
 Health. 
 
 HEALTH is no other, as the learned hold, 
 But a just measure both of heat and cold. 
 
 To Dianeme. a Ceremonie in Glocester. 
 
 ILE to thee a simnell bring, 
 'Gainst thou go'st a mothering ; 
 So that, when she blesseth thee. 
 Half that blessing thou'It give me. 
 
 To THE King. 
 
 GIVE way, give way, now, now my Charles shines 
 here, 
 A publike light, in this immensive sphere. 
 Some starres were fixt before ; but these are dim,
 
 254 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Compar'd (in this my ample orbe) to him. 
 Draw in your feeble fiers, while that he 
 Appeares but in his meaner majestie. 
 Where, if such glory tlashes from his name, 
 Which is his shade, who can abide his flame ! 
 Princes, and such like publike lights as these, 
 Must not be lookt on, but at distances : 
 For, if we gaze on these brave lamps too neer, 
 Our eyes they I blind, or if not blind, ihey'l bleer. 
 
 The Funerall Rites of the Rose. 
 
 THE rose was sick, and smiling di'd ; 
 And, being to be sanctifi'd, 
 About the bed, there sighing stood 
 The sweet, and flowrie sisterhood. 
 Some hung the head, while some did bring 
 (To wash her) water from the spring. 
 Some laid her forth, while others wept, 
 But all a solemne fast there kept. 
 The holy sisters some among 
 The sacred dirge and trentall sung. 
 But ah ! what sweets smelt every where, 
 As Heaven had spent all perfumes there. 
 At last, when prayers for the dead, 
 And rites were all accomplished ; 
 They, weeping, spread a lawnie loome. 
 And clos'd her up, as in a tombe. 
 
 The Rainbow: or curious Covenant. 
 
 MINE eyes, like clouds, were drizling raine, 
 And as they thus did entertaine 
 The gentle beams from Julia's sight 
 To mine eyes level'd opposite : 
 O thing admir'd ! there did appeare 
 A curious rainbow smiling there ; 
 Which was the covenant, that she 
 No more wo'd drown mine eyes, or me.
 
 HESPERIDES. 255 
 
 The last Stroke strike sure. 
 
 THOUGH by well-warding many blowes w'ave 
 past, 
 That stroke most fear d is, ivhich is struck the last. 
 
 F 
 
 Fortune. 
 
 ORTUNE'S a blind profuser of her own, 
 Too much she gives to some, enough to none. 
 
 Stool-ball, 
 
 AT stool-ball, Lucia, let us play. 
 For sugar- cakes and wine ; 
 Or for a tansie let us pay, 
 
 The losse or thine, or mine. 
 
 If thou, my deere, a winner be 
 
 At trundling of the ball. 
 The wager thou shalt have, and me, 
 
 And my misfortunes all. 
 
 But if, my sweetest, I shall get, 
 
 Then I desire but this ; 
 That likewise I may pay the bet. 
 
 And have for all a kisse. 
 
 To Sappho. 
 
 LET us now take time, and play, V 
 
 Love, and live here while we may ; 
 Drink rich wine ; and make good cheere. 
 While we have our being here : 
 For, once dead, and laid i'th grave, 
 No return from thence we have. 
 
 On Poet Prat. Epig. 
 
 PRAT he writes satyres; but herein's the fault. 
 In no one satyre there's a nilte of salt.
 
 256 HESPERIDES. 
 
 Upon Tuck. Epig. 
 A T post and paire, or slam, Tom Tuck would 
 
 This Christmas, but his want wherwith, sayes Nay. 
 Biting of Beggars. 
 
 W 
 
 HO, railing, drives the lazar from his door, 
 Instead of almes, sets dogs upon the poor. 
 
 The May-pole. 
 
 THE May-pole is up, 
 Now give me the cup ; 
 rie drink to the garlands a-round it : 
 But first unto those 
 Whose hands did compose 
 The glory of flowers that crown'd it. 
 
 A health to my girles. 
 
 Whose husbands may earles 
 Or lords be, (granting my wishes) 
 
 And when that ye wed 
 
 To the bridall bed. 
 Then multiply all, like to fishes. 
 
 Men mind no State in Sicknesse. 
 
 THAT flow of gallants which approach 
 To kisse thy hand from out the coach ; 
 That fleet of lackeyes, which do run 
 Before thy swift postilion : 
 Those strong-hoofd mules, which we behold, 
 Rein'd in with purple, pearl, and gold. 
 And shod with silver, prove to be 
 The drawers of the axeltree. / 
 
 Thy wife, thy children, and the state / 
 
 Of Persian loomes, and antique plate : ^ 
 
 All these, and more, shall then afford 
 No joy to thee their sickly lord. ,
 
 HESPERIDES. 255^ 
 
 Adversity. 
 
 ADVERSITY hurts none, but onely such 
 Whom whitest l-'ortune dandled has too much. 
 
 Want. 
 
 IVJEED is no vice at all ; though here it be, 
 ^ ^ With men, a loathed inconveniencie. 
 
 Griefe. 
 
 SORROWES divided amongst many, lesse 
 Discruciate a man in deep distresse. 
 
 Love palpable. 
 
 IPREST my Julia's lips, and in the kisse 
 Her soule and love were palpable in this.
 
 PRINTED BY WHITTINGH AM AND WILKINS, 
 TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LANE. 
 
 ^>
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 VlAY 1 m&i gg^ oil- ; 
 
 MAY Q m^i 
 
 MAY 3 11952 
 
 2 9 
 
 RtOtJ 
 
 DEC 
 
 bl^0 3 
 
 m'ii&L tgBl3 
 
 AUG i 6 n^i 
 
 Dec U '58 
 
 iPilVAL FEB 27 1961 
 
 ^^''■'^ l?f%lLJUN2 
 
 MAR ^^9f 
 
 ^^' HAY 19 19^7 
 
 REC'D LD 
 1 
 
 JRC 
 
 / 
 
 fiNf c * 
 
 . ^OjO' 
 
 ^ 
 
 cC^ 
 
 'S 7k 
 
 
 v'^;'^^ 
 
 \ 
 
 MAY 2 5 f®'' 
 
 \;^FtBl6 1°^ 
 
 fv ■^ 
 
 rC] 
 
 Form L9-50»»t-ll,'50 (2554)444 
 
 THE LTBRART 
 
 OMVERSITY Of CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 50 2938 
 
 p 
 
 AA 000 380 081