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" 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.
^>
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