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(Carl? 
ROBERT  HERRICK. 


PRINTED  BY  ROBERT  ROBERTS, 
BOSTON. 


THE 

COMPLETE   POEMS 

OF 

ROBERT    HERRICK. 

EDITED, 

WITH 

iflcmorial^ntroHiiction  anU  /*Jote0, 

BY    THE 

REV.    ALEXANDER   B.   GROSART. 


IN   THREE   VOLUMES.— VOL.   I. 

ILonDon  : 

CHATTO  AND   WINDUS,   PICCADILLY 
1876. 


PR 


V. 


To 
ALGERNON  CHARLES  SWINBURNE,  ESQ. 

MY  DEAR  SIR, 

It  is  a  very  great  pleasure  to  be  allowed  to 
dedicate  this  first  adequate  edition  of  the  Poetry  of 
HERRICK — to  you.  I  asked  this,  in  order  to  express 
my  sense  of  the  privilege  with  which  you  honour  me 
in  your  old-fashionedly  long  and  full  letters  on  literary 
matters ;  and  also,  of  the  rare  combination  in  your 
person,  of  supreme  original  genius  in  many  directions 
with  the  most  painstaking  and  laborious  research  into 
our  earlier  literature,  and  a  swift,  almost  prodigal 
recognition  of  others,  whether  dead  or  living. 

No  more  than  can  any,  will  you  admire  everything 
in  the  Hesperides.  But  I  shall  be  disappointed  if  you 
do  not  ratify  my  decision  to  reproduce  the  whole  rather 
than  excise.  -^ 

I  have  worked  prolongedly  and  thoroughly  on  these 
three  volumes.     I  place  them  beneath  penetrative  but 
most  human  eyes  in  yours. 
I  am, 

My  dear  Sir, 

Ever  faithfully, 
ALEXANDER  B.  GROSART. 


vii. 


Preface. 

T^HERE  have  been  EIGHT  complete  and  distinct 
editions  of  the  Poems  of  HERRICK,  since  he  him 
self,  in  1647-8,  published  his  "  Hesperides,  or  Works 
Both  Humane  and  Divine  of  ROBERT  HERRICK,  Esq" 
— the  'Divine*  moiety  being  dated  1647  ("I647-8), 
and  separately  paged  and  forming  the  closing  and  not 
the  opening  portion  of  the  book.  It  seems  clear  that  a 
very  large  impression  must  have  been  taken  of  the  first 
edition;  for  it  sufficed  for  the  demands  of  the  Cavaliers 
and  of  The  Restoration  and  until  well  on  in  the  iQth 
century.  One  curious  typographical  difference  in  copies 
of  the  same-dated  volume  suggests  that  the  types  may 
have  been  kept  standing  for  awhile.  In  the  Hesperides 
page  207,  while  the  catchword  "  n.  Where"  is  found 
in  some — as  in  my  own — the  stanza  to  which  it  belongs 
is  dropped  out  and  page  208  commences  with 

"  12.  It  is  vain  to  sing  or  stay." 
In  most  copies  that  I  have  examined  and  had  reported 
on,  the  stanza  appears  as  in  our  Vol.  II.  page  129. 

To  SYLVANUS  URBAN,  Esq.,  (NICHOLS) — clarum  et 
venerabile  nonien  to  every  one  who  really  loves  our  olden 
literature  and  to  whom  he  is  a  genuine  personality — 


PREFACE. 


belongs  the  honour  of  having  been  the  first  in  later 
times  to  recall  attention  to  the  (then)  long-neglected 
Poet.  This  was  in  the  Gentleman }s  Magazine  for  1796 
and  1797.  Following  his  "Letters"  came  in  1798 
DR.  NATHAN  DRAKE'S  still  most  pleasant  Literary 
Hours  (Vol.  III.,  ist  edition  :  Nos.  42,  43,  and  44,  3rd 
edition,  1804)  on  the  Life,  Writings  and  Genius  of 
HERRICK,  with  well-put  quotations,  and  genial  if  not 
always  accurate  criticism.  Some  years  later  (1810)  Dr. 
NOTT,  of  Bristol,  published  the  following  : — "  Select 
Poems  from  the  Hesperides  or  Works  both  Human  and 
Divine,  of  Robert  Herrick,  Esq,  with  Occasional 
Remarks  by  J.  N.  Accompanied  also  with  the  Head, 
Autographe  [sic]  and  Seal  of  the  Poet.  Bristol,  Printed 
and  published  by  J.  M.  Gutch,  15  Small  Street.  Sold 
also  by  Messrs.  Longman,  Hurst,  Rees,  and  Orme, 
Paternoster  Row,  and  I.  Miller,  72,  Chancery  Lane, 
London,  n.d.  (8VO  pp.  viii  and  253)."  On  this  Selection 
the  well-known  friend  of  Coleridge  and  Lamb  and  other 
contemporary  'mighties' — Mr.  BARRON  FIELD  (not 
SOUTHEY  as  frequently  stated)  wrote  a  chatty  critique  in 
the  Quarterly  Review  (for  August  1810).*  Not  until 

*  Peter  Cunningham,  Esq.,  in  Notes  and  Queries,  ist  s.  x.  27, 
compared  with  Walford's  edition  of  the  Hesperides,  p.iii.,  and  1846 
edition,  (infra)  I.  xviii. 


PREFACE.  ix. 


1823  was  a  complete  edition  furnished.  This  was  done 
with  admirable  carefulness  and  enthusiasm  by  the  late 
accomplished  THOMAS  M AITLAND,  Esq. ,  of  Dundrennan , 
Advocate,  afterwards  as  a  Judge  of  the  Scottish  Court 
of  Session,  named  LORD  DUNDRENNAN.  It  was  in 
two  volumes,  post  8VO,  and  a  few  copies  in  small 
4to  :  "  Edinburgh  Reprinted  for  W.  and  C.  Tait. 
MDCCCXXIII."  On  the  title-page  is  a  woodcut  of  the 
bust  of  Herrick  with  his  autograph.  Prefixed  is  a 
Biographical  Notice  (pp.  v. — xxx.)  :  Vol.  I.  pp.  288  : 
Vol.  II.,  pp.  296,  followed  by  pp.  38  Table  of  Contents 
to  both  volumes.  In  1825  a  limited  number  of  "  re 
mainder  "  copies  of  Lord  Dundrennan's  edition  having 
been  purchased  by  the  late  WILLIAM  PICKERING,  he 
gave  them  fresh  title-pages  with  his  original  motto 
"  Perennis  et  Fragrans,"  and  a  steel  portrait  by 
WORTHINGTON.  Otherwise  the  books  are  identical. 

In  August  1822,  in  Ttie  Retrospective  Review  (Vol.  V. 
p.  156)  Lord  Dundrennan's  edition  was  examined  in  a 
delightful  Paper  —  the  Writer  of  which  one  would 
gladly  know.  In  1839  appeared  "Selections  from  the 
Hesperides  and  Works  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Herrick 
(Antient)  Vicar  of  Dean-Prior,  Devon.  By  the  late 
CHARLES  SHORT,  Esq.,  F.R.S.  and  F.S.A.  London: 
John  Murray,  Albemarle  Street.  MDCCCXXXIX.  (pp. 


PREFACE. 


xiv.  and  216.)  In  1844  was  published  in  paper  covers 
2  vols.  i6mo.  an  unpretentious  but  not  at  all  an  un 
worthy  little  edition  intrinsically  "  edited  by  HENRY  G. 
CLARKE"  (London:  H.  G.  Clarke  &  Co.).  In  1846 
came  William  Pickering's  typographically  beautiful 
and  attractive  edition :  2  vols.,  cr.  8VO,  and  a  few  on 
large  paper.  The  Editor  was  neither  vigilant  nor 
capable.  The  Writer  of  the  Memoir  disclaimed  the 
editing.f  He  was  the  late  SAMUEL  WELLER  SINGER. 
He  might  equally  have  relinquished  any  merit  for  his 
Memoir  seeing  that  as  Mr.  Hazlitt  not  unjustly  remarks, 
it  is  "  but  a  lame  paraphrase  of  that  attached  to  the 
edition  of  1823,"  and  altogether  is  perfunctorily  done.J 
In  1848  was  published  "Selections  from  Herrick  for 
Translation  into  Latin  Verse  with  a  short  Preface  by 
the  Rev.  A.  J.  Macleane,  M.A.,  Trinity  College,  Cam 
bridge,  Principal  of  Brighton  College  (London :  George 
Bell;  pp.  79,  i6mo.)  Other  complete  editions  appeared 
in  1850  and  1852 — each  in  2  vols.  That  of  1852,  two 
vols.  i2mo.,  was  published  by  Bohn  (Vol.  I.  pp.  213 : 
Vol.  II.,  pp.  238).  In  1856,  Pickering's  of  1846  was 
reprinted  in  the  United  States  :  "  Boston  :  Little, 
Brown,  &  Co.  :  Vol.  I.,  pp.  340  :  Vol.  II.,  pp.  298) 

t  Notes  and  Queries,  ist  s.  Vol.  I.  p.  459. 
t  Vol.  I.  p.  v. 


PREFACE.  xi. 


In  1859  we  have  the  following :  "The  Poetical  Works 
of  Robert  Herrick,  containing  his  "  Hesperides  "  and 
"  Noble  Numbers."  With  a  Biographical  Memoir  by 
E.  Walford,  M.A.,  Late  Scholar  of  Baliol  Coll.,  Oxford. 
London :  Reeves  and  Turner,  238  Strand.  1859. 
(Post  8VO,  pp.  xi.  and  608)  ;  and  finally  in  1869, 
this  : — "  Hesperides  the  Poems  and  other  Remains  of 
Robert  Herrick  now  First  Collected.  Edited  by 
W.  Carew  Hazlitt.  London :  John  Russell  Smith, 
Soho  Square,  1869.  (2  vols.,  cr.  8VO :  Vol.  I.  pp.  xxx. 
and  i — 255  :  Vol.  II.,  pp.  256—  526  :  copies  also  on 
large  paper).  Mr.  HAZLITT  disavows  responsibility  for 
the  text,  which  is  virtually  that  of  Pickering's  of  1846 ; 
but  in  the  Biographical  Notice  he  has  intercalated 
some  additions  and  corrections  within  brackets,  and  in 
Appendices  added  Poems  from  MSS.,  etc.  Of  these 
and  the  different  editions  enumerated  more  will  be 
found  in  the  Memorial-Introduction  (II.  Critical). 

For  all  these  Eight  editions  the  admirer  of  Herrick 
is  grateful.  None  is  without  its  own  merits.  Therefore 
none  ought  to  be  undervalued. 

Now  for  the  present  edition.     It  is  distinguished 
from  preceding  by  these  things  : — 
i.  The  text  is  for  the  first  time  reproduced  in  integrity 
(a)  from  the  Author's  own  edition  of  1647-8 — 


PREFACE. 


Italics,  capitals  and  punctuation  being  his  own, 
save  that  his  list  of  errata  and  a  few  others  over 
looked  by  him  have  been  put  right :  (b)  from 
other  books  and  from  MSS.  with  exact  collation  of 
the  originals  whether  printed  or  MS. 

2.  For  the  first  time  an  effort  has  been  made  to  anno 

tate  and  illustrate  wherever  there  seemed  a  call  for 
it.  Hitherto  except  Dr.  Nott's  occasional  Notes 
to  his  "  Selections,"  nothing  has  been  done  worth 
while  even  to  explain  words  and  allusions,  or  to 
inform  on  names,  &c.  The  Author's  own  few 
Notes  bear  his  initial  ( H ) ;  a  few  from  Dr.  Nott 
bear  his  initial  (N).  For  the  rest,  in  Thomas 
Fuller's  phrase  "  my  meannesse  is  responsible  " 
(Abel  Redevivus  :  Ep.  ded.  1651), 

3.  For  the  first  time  the  facts  and  circumstances  of  the 

Life  are  fully  told.  Hitherto  the  Memoirs  have 
been  meagre  and  fragmentary.  On  almost  every 
point  in  the  Biography  new  information  is  now 
given,  previous  errors  corrected,  and  old  data 
brought  into  their  places. 

4.  For  the  first  time  an  attempt  at  an  adequate  Estimate 

of  these  Poems  and  of  the  Man  is  made.  This 
forms  the  second  division  of  the  Memorial-Intro 
duction. 


PREFACE.  xiii. 


5.  For  the  first  time  there  is  given  a  thorough  Glossarial 

Index,  Index  of  first  lines,  and  other  helpful  ap 
paratus.      •  4 

6.  The  Portrait  (on  steel)  is  for  the  first  time  true  to 

the  original  of  1647-8.     Of  it  I  speak  in  relation 
to  others  elsewhere. 

As  I  must  fully  concede,  Herrick  is  one  of 
those  Poets  of  whom  more  than  most  of  equal 
kind  and  quality  of  genius,  a  Selection  rather  than 
a  Collection  in  entirety,  might  plausibly  be  deemed 
preferable  and  at  this  day  sufficient.  Dr.  Nott's  and 
Short's  and  Macleane's  were  very  acceptable,  as  far  as 
they  went ;  and  still  more  so  I  do  not  doubt  will  be 
Mr.  FRANCIS  TURNER  PALGRAVE'S  announced  "  Selec 
tions"  for  the  "  Golden  Treasury"  series  of  Messrs. 
Macmillan  &  Co.  "  Selections  "  such  as  the  last,  will 
carry  Herrick  whither  we  would  scarcely  choose  to 
have  the  whole  carried ;  for  we  would  not  choose  to 
have  our  wives  or  children  come  on  the  sorrowful  nasti- 
nesses  of  too  many  of  the  (so-called)  Epigrams  and  occa 
sional  lines  of  the  other  Poems.  But  seeing  that  the 
existence  of  Nott's  and  Short's  and  Macleane's  and  now 
of  Mr.  Palgrave's  "  Selections  "  makes  it  unnecessary 
for  such  to  possess  Herrick  completely,  there  remains 
consideration  for  others.  For  my  part  I  am  clear  that 


xiv.  PREFACE. 


in  the  interest  of  students  of  our  Literature  and  of  our 
national  morals  and  progress,  it  is  a  thing  of  truthful 
ness  that  any  book  that  is  called  for  ought  to  be  fur 
nished  honestly.  Only  so  can  genuine  verdicts  be 
arrived  at ;  only  so  can  the  History  of  our  national  Lite 
rature  be  written  in  the  knowledge  of  its  formative  and 
informing  elements ;  and  above  all,  only  so  is  it  possible 
to  solve  questions  that  are  thickening  on  us,  questions 
that  take  us  to  the  very  roots  of  our  national  life 
and  activity.  Personally,  I  frankly  acknowledge  that  I 
should  not  elect  to  publish  completely  either  Herrick 
or  Donne  or  others ;  but  since  they  are  imperatively 
and  encreasingly  demanded,  it  is,  I  must  repeat,  a  thing 
of  truth  as  against  falsehood  that  the  Works  shall  be 
made  accessible  in  integrity  of  text — all  save  students 
of  our  Literature  being  warned  off  to  "  Selections  " 
specially  provided.  It  isn't  a  matter  of  casuistry  but 
of  indisputable  honour  if  the  thing  is  to  be  done  at  all 
— not  to  say  that  your  compiler  of  "  Selections  "  like 
your  fine-nosed  searcher  after  heresy,  is  too  often  ex 
tremely  unpoetic,  unsympathetic  and  narrow  in  his 
vision,  and  grubs  up  the  Passion-flower  or  moth-wing- 
like  Pansy  because  forsooth,  a  slug  has  trailed  across 
it,  sightless  to  the  glory  of  bloom  and  tint  as  to  the 
iridiscence  of  even  the  slug's  pathway. 


PREFACE.  xv. 


I  have  right  cordially  to  thank  several  literary  friends 
for  willing  aid  rendered  me  in  these  volumes.  Fore 
most,  as  usual,  is  my  very  dear  friend  DR.  BRINSLEY 
NICHOLSON  with  his  ever-fecund  resources  and  untiring 
painstaking,  and  next  to  him  MR.  FRANCIS  T.  PALGRAVE. 
When  I  had  finished  my  annotation,  the  '  copy '  was 
submitted  to  these  two  good  friends,  with  the  result  of 
enriching  my  Notes  considerably.  The  Rev.  W.  E. 
BUCKLEY,  M.A.,  of  Middleton  Cheney,  Banbury,  the 
Rev.  THOMAS  ASHE,  M.A.  (now  of  Crewe),  JOHN 
SHELLY,  Esq.,  Plymouth,  GEORGE  H.  WHITE,  Esq., 
Glenthorn,  Devon,  have  favoured  me  with  their  occa 
sional  notes  and  suggestions.  For  genealogical  and  other 
.data  I  owe  emphatic  thanks  to  COLONEL  CHESTER,  of 
Bermondsey,  the  Rev.  THOMAS  PELHAM  DALE,  M.A., 
St.  Vedast,  London,  the  Rev.  W.  T.  FREER,  M.A., 
Houghton-on-the-Hill,  Leicester,  and  Miss  HERRICK 
MACAULAY,  Leicester,  the  Rev.  L.  R.  CARTER,  M.A., 
Brantham,  Suffolk,  the  late  W.  PERRY-HERRICK,  Esq., 
Beaumanor,  W.  A.  ABRAM,  Esq.,  Blackburn,  and  W. 
H.  CHAPPELL,  Esq.,  London.  In  certain  of  the 
patristic  references  ( all  loose )  I  was  helped  by 
PROFESSOR  LIGHTFOOT,  of  Cambridge ;  and  FATHER 
PURBRICK,  of  Stonyhurst,  as  always,  freely  opened  to 
me  the  noble  Library  of  the  College.  I  must  add  that, 


xvi.  PREFACE. 


repeatedly,  the  Printer  of  these  books  (MR.  ROBERT 
ROBERTS,  of  Boston),  who  is  of  the  nearly  defunct  type 
of  literary  craftsmen,  has  laid  me  under  pleasant  obliga 
tion  in  various  ways. 

And  so  I  commend  ROBERT  HERRICK  to  the  present 
generation  and  coming  generations  : — 

"  Thou  living  voice  from  olden  times, 

That  like  a  spirit  travellest  on 
From  lip  to  lip,  from  heart  to  heart 

Linking  our  own  to  those  long  gone  : 
'Tis  with  a  throbbing  heart  I  hear 

Thy  well-known  voice  of  harmonies, 
Float — like  past  boyhood, — on  my  ear, 

With  old  ancestral  memories  I 
Oh  T  thou  art  as  an  unseen  soul 

That  communes  with  us,  till  we  be 
Quite  space-and-time  free,  blended  all 

With  thy  deep  essence  lovingly  : 
Thou  art  a  stirring  note,  blown  on 

Imagination's  magic  horn, 
But  out  of  date  in  these  dull  days, 

When  Faith  is  of  her  visions  shorn." 

(HENRY  ELLISON.) 


ALEXANDER   B.   GROSART. 


St.  George's  Vestry, 

June  i Qth,  1876. 


PREFACE.  xvii. 


POSTSCRIPT. 

In  my  Essay  I  give  reasons  for  rejecting  poems 
ascribed  to  Herrick  by  Mr.  W.  C.  Hazlitt  in  his 
edition  of  the  Works ;  here  it  may  be  well  to  repeat 
that  one  of  the  Poems  (I.  Description  of  a  Woman) 
that  he  imagined  had  not  before  been  printed, 
appeared  in  "Wit's  Recreations"  (1640) ;  and  that  one 
of  the  alleged  new  pieces  (On  Julia's  Weeping)  forms 
one  of  the  couplets  in  Hesperides.  More  remarkable 
still,  instead  of  the  "  six  or  eight "  poems  of  the  Hes 
perides  that  Mr.  Hazlitt  states  had  originally  appeared 
in  "  Wit's  Recreations,"  no  fewer  than  62  so  appeared — 
all  as  noticed  in  the  places. 


XIX. 


Contents. 

PAGE 

DEDICATION     .        ,     .  , v 

PREFACE  ......        .        .        .      vii 

MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION  :    I.  Biographical          .  xxxi 
„  „  II.  Critical.         .         .      cxi 

„  „  Appendix       .       cclxxvii 

HESPERIDES  ..        »•       7-182 

Title-page     .         *        ~  ~        .         *        .        3. 

Verse- Dedication.         .         .         .         .         .         .         5 

The  Argument  of  his  Book  ....         7 

To  his  Muse  .        »        .        .         .        .        8 

To  his  Booke        *        .        .        .         .        .         .10 

Another        «  •     '    *        *        »        .        .         .         .10 

Another        .•        »        .         .         .         .         .         .10 

To  the  soure  Reader 1 1 

To  his  Booke 1 1 

When  h^  would  have  his  verses  read    .        .        .11 

Upon  Julias  Recovery 12 

To  Silvia  to  wed   .......       13 

The  Parliament  of  Roses  to  Julia         .        .        .13 
No  Bashfulnesse  in  begging          ....       14 

The  Frozen  Heart 14 

To  Perilla 14 

A  Sorrg  to  the  Maskers 15 

To  Per-enna  .......       16 

Treason 16 

Two  Things  Odious 16 

To  his  Mistresses          ..        .        .        .        .        .17 

The  Wounded  Heart 17 


xx.  CONTENTS. 


HESPE RIDES  (continued) 

No  Loathsomnesse  in  love 

ToAnthea 

The  Weeping  Cherry    ...... 

Soft  Musick 

The  Difference  betwixt  Kings  and  Subiects 

His  Answer  to  a  Question    ..... 

Upon  Julia's  Fall 

Expences  Exhaust         ...... 

Love  what  it  is 

Presence  and  Absence 

No  Spouse  but  a  Sister 

The  Pomander  Bracelet 

The  shooe  tving    .         .         .         .         . 

The  Carkanet        ....... 

His  sailing  from  Julia  ..... 

How  the  Wall-flower   came   first,  and  why  so 

called     ........       24 

Why  Flowers  change  colour         ....       25 

To  his  Mistresse  objecting  to  him  neither  Toying 

or  Talking     .         .         .         .         .         .         .25 

Upon  the  losse  of  his  Mistresses  ...       27 

The  Dream 27 

The  Vine 28 

To  Love        ........       29 

I  On  himselfe  .        .         .         .  .         .29 

Love's  play  at  Push-pin 29 

The  Rosarie 30 

Upon  Cupid 30 

The  Parcae,  or,   Three  dainty  Destinies.      The 

Armilet 31 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

HESPERIDES  (continued) 

Sorrowes  succeed 31 

Cherry-pit 32 

To  Robin  Red-brest 32 

Discontents  in  Devon  \ 32 

To  his  Paternall  Countrey    .         .         .         .         -33 

Cherrie-ripe 33 

To  his  Mistresses 33 

To  Anthea  .        .     ;    .  ,  .         .         .34 

The  Vision  to  Electra  .        .        .        .         -34 

Dreames 35 

Ambition       .'.       .,       ,t  .        .         .         -35 

His  request  to  Julia 35 

Money  gets  the  masterie 35 

The  Scar-fire 35 

Upon  Silvia,  a  Mistresse 36 

Cheerfulnesse  in  Charitie  :  or,  The  sweet  Sacrifice  36 

Once  poore,  still  penurious  37 

Sweetnesse  in  Sacrifice 37 

Steame  in  Sacrifice 37 

Upon  Julia's  Voice 37 

Againe 38 

All  things  decay  and  die 38 

The  succession  of  the  foure  sweet  months     .         .  38 

No  Shipwrack  of  Vertue.     To  a  friend        .         .  39 

Upon  hisSister-in-Law,  Mistresse  Elizab :  Herrick  39 

Of  Love.     A  Sonet 39 

To  Anthea 40 

The  Rock  of  Rubies :  and  The  quarrie  of  Pearls  41 

Conformitie           .......  41 


xxii.  CONTENTS. 


HESPERIDES  (continued) 
To  the  King,  Upon  his  comming  with  his  Army 

into  the  West 

Upon  Roses 

To  the  King  and  Queene,  upon  their  unhappy 

distances 

Dangers  wait  on  Kings 

The  Cheat  of  Cupid  :  or,  The  ungentle  guest      . 
To  the  reverend  shade  of  his  religious  Father 
Delight  in  Disorder       .         . 

To  his  Muse 

Upon  Lpve  ....... 

To  Dean-bourn,  a  rude   River  in    Devon  :    by 

which  sometimes  he  lived 

Kissing  Usurie 

To  Julia 

To  Laurels 

His  Cavalier          .         .         .         .         . 

Zeal  required  in  Love  . 

The  Bag  of  the  Bee      .        .         . 

Love  kill'd  by  Lack 

To  his  Mistresse  ...... 

To  the  generous  Reader       .... 

To  Criticks 

Duty  to  Tyrants 

Being  once  blind,  his  request  to  Biancha 

Upon  Blanch 

No  want  where  there's  little  .... 
Barly- Break  :  or,  Last  in  Hell  .... 
The  Definition  of  Beauty  .  .... 


CONTENTS.  xxiii. 


PAGE 

HESPE RIDES  (continued) 

To  Dianeme 56 

To  Anthea  lying  in  bed 56 

To  Electra             57 

A  Country-life  :  to  his  Brother,  M.  Tho  :  Herrick  57 

Divination  by  a  Daffadill 64 

To  the  Painter,  to  draw  him  a  Picture          .         .  65 

Upon  Cuffe.     Epig 66 

Upon  Fone  a  School- master.     Epig.    ...  66 

A  Lyrick  to  Mirth 66 

To  the  Earle  of  Westmerland       ....  67 

Against  Love 68 

Upon  Julia's  Riband 68 

The  frozen  Zone  :  or,  Julia  disdainfull          .         .  68 
An  Epitaph  upon  a  sober  Matron         .         .         .69 

To  the  Patron  of  Poets,  M.  End  :  Porter    .         .  71) 

The  sadnesse  of  things  for  Sapho's  sicknesse       .  70 

Leanders  Obsequies 71 

Hope  Heartens 71 

Foure  things  make  us  happy  here         .         .         .71 

His  parting  from  Mrs.  Dorothy  Keneday     .         .  72 

The  Teare  sent  to  her  from  Stanes       ...  72 
Upon  one  Lillie,  who  marryed  with  a  maid  call'd 

Rose 74 

An  Epitaph  upon  a  child       .....  74 

Upon  Scobble.     Epig. 75 

The  Houre-glasse         .......  75 

His  Fare- well  to  Sack 76 

Upon  Glasco.     Epig 78 

Upon   Mrs.   Eliz  :   Wheeler,  under  the  name  of 

Amarillis 79 


CONTENTS. 


HESPE  RIDES  (continued) 
The  Custard          .         .         .         .         .         .         .80 

The  Myrrha  hard-hearted    .....  80 

The  Eye        ........  81 

Upon  the  much  lamented,  Mr.  J.  Warr        .         .  81 

Upon  Gryll            .......  82 

The  suspition  upon  his  over-much  familiarity  with 

a  Gentlewoman      ......  82 

Single-life  most  secure           .....  84 

The  Curse.     A  Song    ......  84 

The  wounded  Cupid.     Song         ....  84 

To  Dewes.     A  Song     .......  85 

Some  comfort  in  calamity     .....  86 

The  Vision             .......  86 

Love  me  little,  love  me  long          ....  87 

Upon  a  Virgin  kissing  a  Rose      ....  87 

Upon  a  Wife  that  dyed  mad  with  Jealousie          .  87 

Upon  the  Bishop  of  Lincolne's  Imprisonment      .  88 

Disswasions  from  Idlenesse           ....  89 

Upon  Strut            .......  90 

An  Epithalamie  to  Sir  Thomas  Southwell  and  his 

Ladie     ........  90 

Teares  are  Tongues      ......  100 

*    [Epitaph]  Upon  a  young  mother  of  many  children  100 

To  Electra    ........  100 

His  wish        .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .  101 

His  Protestation  to  Perilla    .....  101 

Love  perfumes  all  parts        .....  102 

To  Julia        ........  102 

On  himselfe           .         ......  103 


(r 


CONTENTS.  xxv. 


PAGE 

HESPERIDES  (continued) 
Vertue  is  sensible  of  suffering      ....     103 

The  cruell  Maid 103 

To  Dianeme 105 

To  the  King,  To  cure  the  Evill     .        .        .        .105 

His  misery  in  a  Mistresse 106 

Upon  Jollies  wife 107 

To  a   Gentlewoman  objecting  to  him  his  gray 

haires     .         ....'.<       .         .         .         .     107 
To  Cedars     .        . .       ...        .        .        .        .108 

Upon  Cupid          . 108 

How  Primroses  came  green  .         .         .         .109 

To  Jos  :  Lo  :  Bishop  of  Exeter    .         .         .         .109 
Upon  a  black  Twist,  rounding  the  Arme  of  the 

Countesse  of  Carlile no 

On  himselfe  .         .         .         .         .         .         .ill 

Upon  Pagget        .'. ill 

A  Ring  presented  to  Julia 112 

To  the  Detracter  .         .         .         .         .         .         .113 

Upon  the  same 114 

Julia's  Petticoat 114 

To  Musick  ..  115 

Distrust 115 

Corinna's  going  a  Maying 116 

On  Julia's  breath 119 

Upon  a  Child.     An  Epitaph         .         .         .         .120 
A  Dialogue  betwixt  Horace  and  Lydia,  Trans 
lated  Anno  1627,  and  set  by  Mr.  Ro  :  Ramsey     120 
— The  captiv'd  Bee  :  or,  The  Little  Filcher      .         .121 
Upon  Prig 123 


xxvi.  CONTENTS. 


HESPERIDES  (continued) 

Upon  Batt 123 

An  Ode  to  Master  Endymion  Porter,  upon  his 

Brothers  death 124 

To  his  dying  Brother,  Master  William  Herrick  .     125 

The  Olive  Branch 126 

Upon  Much-more.     Epig.     .         .         .         .         .127 

To  Cherry-blossomes  .     '   .         .         .         .127 

How  Lillies  came  white 127 

To  Pansies  128 

On  Gelli-flowers  begotten 128 

The  Lilly  in  a  Christal 129 

To  his  Booke 131 

Upon  some  women       ......     132 

Supreme  fortune  falls  soonest       .         .         .  133 

The  Welcome  to  Sack 133 

Impossibilities  to  his  friend  .....     137 

Upon  Luggs.     Epig 138 

Upon  Gubbs.     Epig.    .         .         •         .         .         .138 
To  live  merrily,  and  to  trust  to  Good  Verses         .     138 
Faire  dayes  :  or,  Dawnes  deceitfull      .         .         .141 
Lips  Tonguelesse          ......     141 

To  the  Fever,  not  to  trouble  Julia         .         .         .142 

To  Violets 143 

Upon  Bunce.     Epig 144 

To  Carnations.     A  Song      .         .         .         .         .144 
To  the  Virgins,  to  make  much  of  Time        .         .     144 

Safety  to  look  to  ones  selfe 145 

To  his  Friend,  on  the  untuneable  Times       .         .146 
His  Poetrie  his  Pillar  .         .         .         .146 


CONTENTS. 


HESPE RIDES  (continued) 
Safety  on  the  Shore      ....  .     147 

A  Pastorall  upon  the  Birth  of  Prince  Charles, 
Presented  to  the  King,  and  Set  by  Mr.  Nic  : 
Laniere  ,        u.  .         .  .     148 

To  the  Lark          ......  .150 

The  Bubble.     A  Song          .  .     151 

A  Meditation  for  his  Mistresse     .  .     152 

The  bleeding  hand  :  or,  The  sprig  of  Eglantine 

given  to  a  maid      ....  .     153 

Lyrick  for  Legacies 153 

A  Dirge  upon  the  Death  of  the  Right  Valiant 

Lord,  Bernard  Stuart 154 

To  Perenna,  a  Mistresse       ...  .     155 

Great  boast,  small  rost          .  .     155 

Upon  a  Bleare-ey'd  woman          .        .        .         .156 
The    Fairie    Temple  :     or,    Oberon's    Chappell. 
Dedicated   to   Mr.   John   Merrifield,    Coun 
sellor  at  Law         ;        ....  .156 

The  Temple .156 

To  Mistresse   Katherine   Bradshaw,  the  lovely, 

that  crowned  him  with  Laurel        .         .         .163 
The  Plaudite,  or  end  of  life  .  .164 

To  the  most  vertuous  Mistresse  Pot,  who  many 

times  entertained  him  .  .165 

To  Musique,  to  becalme  his  Fever        .         .         .     165 
Upon  a  Gentlewoman  with  a  sweet  Voice     .         .167 

Upon  Cupid 167 

Upon  Julia's  breasts 168 

Best  to  be  merry 168 


CONTENTS. 


HESPE RIDES  (continued) 

The  Changes.     To  Corinna 168 

No  Lock  against  Letcherie 169 

Neglect 169 

L\  Upon  himselfe       .         .         .  .         .         .     1 70 

Upon  a  Physitian 170 

Upon  Sudds  a  Laundresse 170 

To  the  Rose.     Song 170 

Upon  Guesse.     Epig 171 

To  his  Booke 171 

Upon  a  painted  Gentlewoman      .         .         .         -171 
Upon  a  crooked  Maid  .  .         .         .172 

Draw  Gloves 172 

To  Musick,  to  becalme  a  sweet-sick-youth  .         .172 
To  the  High  and  Noble  Prince,  George,  Duke, 

Marquesse,  and  Earle  of  Buckingham  .     173 

His  Recantation  .         .         .         .         .  173 

The  comming  of  good  luck  .         .         .  1 74 

The  Present  :  or,  The  Bag  of  the  Bee          .         .174 
On  Love       .        .        .        .        .        .        .        .174 

The  Hock-cart,  or  Harvest  home  :  To  the  Right 
Honourable,  Mildmay,  Earle  of  Westmor 
land  175 

The  Perfume         .         .         .         .         .         .         .178 

Upon  her  Voice 178 

Not  to  love  .         .         .         .         .         .         .178 

To  Musick.     A  Song 179 

To  the  Western  wind 1 79 

Upon  the  death  of  his  Sparrow.     An  Elegie        .     180 
To  Primroses  fill'd  with  morning-dew  .         .181 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


XXXI. 


Memorial-Introduction. 

I.  BIOGRAPHICAL. 

ERRICK  himself  proudly  recalls  his 
"  deare  ancestrie "  generally,  and  spe 
cifically  works  into  his  Book  "  of  the 
Just " — of  which  more  in  the  sequel — 
celebrations  of  many  members  of  his  family  on  both 
sides,  as  well  direct  as  indirect  (by  marriages).  It 
seems  therefore  only  fitting  that  in  the  outset  his  Bio 
grapher  should  avail  himself  of  recently-given  details 
of  Pedigree,  corrective  of  and  supplementary  to  Nichols, 
and  others.1 

The  earliest  known  seat  in  England  of  the  Herricks 
was  Stretton  Magna  or  Great  Stretton,  (Leicestershire) 

1  Nichols'  History  and  Antiquities  of  the  County  of  Leicester 
(Vol.  II.  part  ii.  p.  615  and  pp.  502-3)  has  been  displaced  in  so  far 
as  the  district  embraced  by  the  later  book  is  concerned,  by  the 
following  n\ost  laborious  local  history  :  "  The  History  of  Market 
Harborough  with  that  portion  of  the  Hundred  of  Gartree,  Leicester 
shire,  containing  the  parishes  of  Baggrave,  Billesdon  [etc.,  etc.,  etc.] 

with  an  account  of  the  Lords  of  the  Manors  and  their 

Pedigrees  ;  and  a  list  of  the  Patrons  and  Rectors  of  each  Living  ; 
a  Description  of  the  Churches,  Monuments,  &c.,  by  John  Harwood 
Hill,  B.A.,  F.S.A.,  Leicester  :  printed  for  the  subscribers  (and  not 


xxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

and  which  is  sometimes  called  Bishop  Stretton,  from 
being  the  birth-place  of  Robert  Eyrick,  Bishop  of  Lich- 
field,  who  in  1378  founded  a  'Chantry'  there.  It  is 
told  of  him  that  at  the  time  of  his  consecration  he  was 
"  obliged  to  have  some  one  to  read  the  profession  of 
canonical  obedience  before  the  Archbishop,  as  he  could 
not  read  "  2 — no  unusual  thing  then.  Earlier  still,  viz. 
in  1334,  Isabella,  wife  of  Ivo  Herrick — Ivo  suggesting 
the  Norse  traditionary  lineage  from  Erik — "  recovered 
seisin  in  relation  to  the  Manor  of  Stretton,  from  Matilda, 
daughter  of  Ivo  Eyrick,  of  three  and  a  half  acres  and 
one  messuage."3  The  following  is  the  Pedigree  of 
Eyrick  of  Great  Stretton. 

Eyrick  of  Stretton,  temp  Henry  III.  =  — 


Alan  Eyrick,  of  Stretton  =  —  2.  Henry  Eyrick,  of  Stretton  =  — 


Robert  Eyrick,  of  Stretton.     John  Eyrick,  of  Stretton  =  — 


Robert  Eyrick,  of  Stretton  =  Joanna 


i.  Sir  William  Eyrick,  of    2.  Robert  Eyrick,  Bp.      John  Eyrick,  of 
Stretton,  Kent,  from    of  Lichfield,  ob.  1385.    Adelena,  Stretton. 
whom    descend    the 
Ey  ricks  of  Hough  ton. 

published)  by  Ward  and  Sons,  1875,  folio  pp.  xvi.  and  345.  In 
these  genealogical  details  Mr.  Hill  is  my  authority,  unless  other 
wise  marked.  "  Hill,  as  before,  p.  no.  3  Ibid.  4  Ibid,  p.  123. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


The  Stretton  Eyricks — as  represented  by  Sir  William 
Eyrick,  Knt. — are  next  found  at  Houghton,  anciently 
called  Houkton,  Hohtone,  Houltone,  and  Houghton- 
on-the-Hill,  about  six  miles  from  Leicester.  The  story 
of  this  '  Lordship '  is  a  stirring  and  various-coloured 
one.  Many  lustrous  names  figure  in  it,  especially  the 
Zouches  or  La  Zouches,  Ferrers,  Erdingtons,  and  Beau- 
monts,  and  later  the  Freers.  The  Church — dedicated 
to  St.  Catharine — lies  in  a  light  of  ancient  glory.  One 
of  the  most  venerable  '  Rectors  '  was  Tobias  Heyricke 
B.D.  1605,  who  died  in  1627.  The  branches  of  the 
Houghton  Herricks  are  manifold.  I  can  only  record 
the  more  noticeable.  As  at  Stretton  the  spelling  of  the 
name  was  Ericke,  Eyreke  or  Eyrick.  Robert  Ericke 
of  Houghton,  had  two  sons,  by  Agnes  his  wife  :  Robert, 
who  died  without  issue,  and  Thomas,  "  of  Houghton- 
on-the-Hill,  Gent,"  who  afterwards  settled  at  Leicester. 
This  Thomas  is  the  first  of  the  name  that  appears  in 
the  Corporation-Books  of  Leicester,  where  he  is  men 
tioned  as  a  member  of  that  body  in  1511.  He  died 
"  about  six  years  afterwards,  most  probably  in  early  life, 
as  he  never  executed  the  office  of  chief  magistrate  of 
Leicester."  His  Will  is  dated  1517.  Nicholas  and 
John,  the  two  sons  of  this  Thomas  Eyrick,  became 
freemen  of  Leicester  in  1535  Nicholas,  the  eldest, 
c 


xxxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

was  Mayor  of  Leicester  in  1552,  and  "had,  it  is 
believed,  two  sons,  Thomas  and  John."  John,  as 
appears  by  the  Corporation-Books  was  made  free  in 
1568;  and  he  had  a  son  (probably  named  John)  for 
"old  John,  in  his  Will  dated  in  1588,  gives  a  small 
legacy  to  his  godson,  the  son  of  his  cousin  John  Eyrick; 
and  it  is  well  known  that  in  those  days  uncles  called 
their  nephews  cousins."5  John  Eyrick,  the  younger  son 
of  Thomas,  was  twice  Mayor  of  Leicester;  and  by 
Mary,  his  wife,  daughter  of  John  Bond,  of  Ward  End, 
otherwise  Little  Bromwich,  in  the  county  of  Warwick, 
Esquire,  had  five  sons  and  seven  daughters.6  The 
following  curious  epitaph  of  this  John  Heyrick  and 
Mary,  his  wife,  is  in  St.  Martin's  Church,  Leicester,  on 
an  upright  marble,  at  the  East  end  of  the  North  aisle, 
in  what  is  still  called  Heyrick's  Chapel : — 

"  Here  lieth  buried  the  body  of  JOHN  HEYRICKE,  late  of 
this  parish,  who  departed  this  life  ye  2nd  of  April,  1589, 
beinge  about  the  age  of  76.  He  did  marrie  the 
daughter  of  John  Bond,  of  Wardend,  of  the  county  of 
Warwicke,  Esquire,  who  lived  with  ye  saide  Marie  in 

5  See  this  curiously  illustrated  by  "  The  London  Prodigal"  who 
invariably  calls  his  uncle  "  uncle,"  while  the  uncle  as  invariably 
calls  the  nephew  "  cousin." 

6  Ibid,  p.  1 1 8.     Interesting   data  are  here  given  on  all  these 
"  sons  and  daughters  " — not  necessary  to  be  furnished  by  us. 


MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION.  xxxv. 

one  house,  full  52  years;  and  in  all  that  time  never 
buried  man,  woman,  nor  childe,  though  they  were 
sometimes  20  in  a  household.  He  had  issue  by  the 
said  Marie,  5  sonns  and  7  daughters,  viz  :  Robert, 
Nicholas,  Thomas,  John,  and  William ;  and  daughters, 
Ursula,  Agnes,  Elizabeth,  Ellen,  Christian  and  Alice. 
The  said  John  was  Mayor  of  this  towne  in  anno  1559 ; 
and  again  in  anno  1572.  The  said  MARIE  departed 
this  Hfe  ye  8th  of  December,  1611,  being  of  the  age  97 
years.  She  did  see  before  her  departure,  of  her  chil 
dren,  and  her  children's  children^  to  the  number 
of  142."? 

Robert  Heyricke,  the  first  son  of  John  and  Mary 
thus  celebrated,  was  three  times  Mayor  of  Leicester, 
and  was  M.P.  for  the  borough,  with  John  Chyppyndale, 
Esq.,  "  the  indenture  of  whose  return  is  dated  nth  of 
October. — 30  Elizabeth*"8  He  had  large  property, 
being  possessed  of  the  Franciscan,  or  Grey,  and  the 
Augustus  Friars,  in  Leicester,  with  a  considerable 
estate  adjoining  to  the  latter,  besides  other  estates; 
and  although  he  had  eleven  children,  was  a  great  bene 
factor  to  the  town  of  Leicester. 

In  1598,  "were  granted  from  the  Herald's  office, 
unto  Robert  and  William  Herrick,  the  sonns  of  John 
Heyrick,  the  sonne  of  Thomas-  Herick,  alias  Erick,  of 

7  Ibid,  p.  118.  *  £bid>  pp.  118-19. 


MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 


Houghton,  in  the  county  of  Leicester,  gent,  and  their 
posterity  for  ever. — A  certain  creast  or  badge,  ivy,  on  a 
wreath  of  these  colours,  a  bull's  head  Argent,  yssuing 
forth  of  a  laurell  garland,  the  mussell,  ears,  and  homes 
tipped  Sable,  to  be  annexed  and  borne  with  their 
auncient  coat  of  armes,  which  is,  Silver,  a  fess  verrey  Or, 
and  Gules."9 

The  old  Alderman  Heyrick  died  in  1618,  and  is 
thus  described  on  an  upright  stone  in  St.  Martin's.— 

"  Here  lieth  the  bodie  of  Robert  Herick,  Ironmonger  and 
Alderman  of  Leicester,  who  had  been  thrise  Maior 
thereof.  Hee  was  the  eldest  son  to  John  Herrick  and 
Marie,  and  had  two  sonnes  and  9  daughters  by  one 
wife,  with  whom  he  lived  51  years.  At  his  death  he 
gave  away  16  pound  10  shillings  a  yeare  to  good  uses. 
He  lived  78  years  :  and  after  dyed  very  godly  the 
1 4th  of  June,  1618.  All  flesh  is  grasse :  but  younge 
and  ould  must  die  :  and  so  we  pass  in  judgment  by 
and  by."1 

The  Portrait  of  this  Robert  Herrick  is  still  preserved 
in  the  Town  Hall  of  Leicester,  thus  inscribed  : 

"  His  picture  whom  you  here  see, 

When  he  is  dead  and  rotten ; 

By  this  shall  he  remembered  be, 

When  he  would  be  forgotten. 

9  Ibid,  p.  119.  l  Ibid,  p.  116. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          xxxvii. 

The  descendants  of  these  Leicester  Herricks  gave 
various  clergymen  to  the  Church  of  England  and 
eminent  citizens  to  London  and  elsewhere.2  Two 
things  in  their  descent  and  intermarriages  claim  passing 
notice  from  their  linking  on  to  still  greater  modern 
names,  viz.,  i.  That  an  Abigail  Erick,  of  Leicester, 
(probably  of  the  family  of  the  first  Nicholas)  married 
in  1665,  Jonathan  Swift,  of  Leicestershire,  father  of  the 
Dean  of  St.  Patricks.  2.  That  Anne,  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Heyrick,  M.A.,  Rector  of  Bramton  Ash, 
co.  Northampton,  married  the  Rev.  Aulay  Macaulay, 
vicar  of  Rothley  and  brother  of  Zachary  Macaulay, 
father  of  Lord  Macaulay. 

Turning  back  now  to  Nicholas  Heyrick,  the  second 
son  of  John  and  Mary  of  the  epitaph  before  given,  he 
was  "articled  in  or  before  the  year  1556,  to  a  gold 
smith  of  eminence  in  Cheapside,  London,  in  which 
place  and  profession  he  afterwards  himself  settled."3 
By  a  lucky  accident  I  have  obtained  the  record  of  his 
marriage-license  as  granted  by  the  Bishop  of  London. 
It  was  issued  "8  Dec.  1582  "  and  the  parties  are  des 
cribed  as  "  Nicholas  Herycke,  Goldsmith,  and  Julian 
Stone,  spinster,  of  the  city  of  London."  They  were 


s  Ibid,  pp.  119 — 121.  3  Ibid,  p.  I2K 


xxxviii.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"to  marry  at  St.  Leonard's,  Bromley,  co.  Middlesex."4 
This  Julian  Stone  is  usually  described  as  a  daughter  of 
William  Stone,  of  Segenhoe,  in  Bedfordshire,  Esquire  ; 
but  Segenhoe  did  not  come  to  the  Stones  until  1632  ; 
so  that  such  description  is  by  prolepsis.5  She  was 
sister  to  Anne,  Lady  Soame,  wife  of  Sir  Stephen 
Soame,  Knight,  Lord  Mayor  of  London  (1598).  For 
tunately  the  Registers  of  their  Parish  Church — St. 
Vedast,  Foster  Lane,  London — escaped  the  fire ;  and 
I  am  enabled  by  the  kindness  of  the  present  Rector 
(the  Rev.  Thomas  Pelham  Dale,  M.A.)  to  furnish 
hitherto  unknown  family  details,  as  follows  : — 

1.  William  Herricke  sonne  to   Nicholas  Herricke  was 
baptized  thexxiiii.  day  of  November  1585. 

2.  Martha  Herricke  the  daughter  of  Nicholas  Herricke 
was  baptized  the  xxiith  day  of  January,  1586. 

3.  Mercie  the  daughter  of  Nicholas  Herricke  was  bap 
tized  the  xxiith  day  of  December,  1586. 

4.  Thomas   Herricke  sonne  to   Nicholas  Herricke  was 
baptized  the  viith  day  of  May,  1588. 

5.  Nicholas  Herricke  sonne  to   Nicholas   Herricke  was 
baptized  the  xxijth  of  April  1589. 

6.  Anne  Herricke  the  daughter  of  Nicholas  Herricke  was 
baptized  the  xxvi  day  of  July  1590 

7.  Robert  Herricke  sonne  to  Nicholas  Herricke  was  bap- 
itized  the  xxiiii  day  of  August  1591. 

4  Through  Colonel  Chester,  Bermondsey,  London. 
*  Ibid, — who  has  supplied  me  with  .the  facts. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xxxix. 

There  was  a  posthumous  son,  William  (born  1593) 
as  appears  by  a  poem  in  the  Hesperides.  The  'Robert' 
of  this  Register  was  our  Poet.  So  that  it  is  seen  his 
great-grandfather  was  Thomas  Eyrick  of  Houghton-on- 
the-Hill  (ob.  1517) — his  grandfather,  John  Eyrick  of 
Leicester,  son  of  Thomas  (ob.  1589) — his  father, 
Nicholas  Herricke  or  Heyrick,  2nd  son  of  John  of 
Leicester.  He  was  named  '  Robert '  after  the  famous 
Robert  of  Leicester  as  is  proved  by  a  small  legacy  to 
him  as  his  'godsonne.'6  Very  soon  after  the  birth  of 
Robert  a  dark  shadow  fell  across  the  hearth  and  house 
hold  in  Cheapside — for  the  father  died  in  1592,  and 
was  buried  on  "  the  ixth  day  "  of  the  month.7  Family 
papers  at  Beaumanor  inform  us  that  the  death  was 
caused  by  a  fall  from  an  upper  window  of  his  own 
house.  These  also  reveal  that  at  the  time  the  fall  was 
suspected  to  have  been  not  accidental  but  intentional. 
The  Will — which  it  is  our  privilege  to  print  for  the  first 

6  In  his  Will  in   1617  he  leaves  "To   Robert    Heyricke    my 
brother  Nicholas's  son,  my  godson,  five  pounds." 

7  Usually  he  is  said  to  have  died  on  the  gth  November,  but  the 
entry    in   the  Register  of   Vedast,    Foster  Lane,  is : — "  Nicholas 
Herricke  a  goldsmith  was  buried  the  iyth  day  of  November  1592." 
This  would  seem  to  indicate  that  he  died  on  the  very  day  of  making 
his  Will  (;th).     He  could  hardly  have  been  buried  on  the  same  day 
that  he  died. 


MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 


time  from  the  original,  and  which  is  dated  only  two  days 
before  the  funeral,  gives  no  suspicion  of  suicide.  It 
thus  runs — literatim  : — 

"  In  the  name  of  God  Amen  The  seaventhe  Daye  of 
November  A  thousand  ffive  hundreth  ninety  twoe  I  Nicho 
las  Hericke  goldsmith  of  perfecte  memorye  in  sowle  but 
sicke  in  bodye  Doe  make  and  ordayne  this  my  Last  will 
and  testament  wherein  I  Doe  commend  my  Sowle  to  the 
handes  of  Almighty  god  And  my  Bodye  to  be  buryed  in  the 
parrishe  Churche  of  S*  ffosters  My  worldly  goods  I  will  and 
give  as  the  Lorde  hathe  given  me  freely  in  this  sorte  My 
state  is  worthe  three  thowsand  poundes  I  giue  to  my 
Loving  wyfe  Julyan  Hericke  the  thirde  parte  which  is  one 
thowsand  poundes  And  the  twoe  partes  to  be  Devided  my 
funeralls  being  Discharged  amongest  my  six  children  my 
twoe  Brothers  Robert  and  William  chefe  overseers  And  my 
sonnes  Thomas  and  Nicholas  wholle  and  sole  Executors 
This  I  request  my  brethren  to  see  performed  Nicholas 
Hericke  Witnesses  William  Herricke  Helyn  Holden8 
V.H." 

This  Will  is  stated  by  Mr.  Hazlitt9  and  others  not  to 
have  been  forthcoming  on  the  death ;  but  as  it  bears 

&  Letters  of  Administration  were  granted  in  the  Prerogative  Court 
of  Canterbury  13  Feb.  1592-3  to  Robert  Herricke,  brother  of  testa 
tor,  during  the  minority  of  Thomas  and  Nicholas  Herricke  the  sons 
and  executors  named  in  the  will,  the  relict  Julian  Herricke  having 
renounced.  Recorded  in  Book  "  Nevell,"  folio  95. 

*  Biographical  Notice,  as  before,  p.  xiii. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xli. 

that  Letters  of  Administration  were  granted  in  the 
Prerogative  Court  of  Canterbury  so  early  as  Feb.  i3th 
1592-3,  this  must  be  a  mistake.  All  the  more  deplor 
able  consequently  was  it  that  rumours  swiftly  taken  up 
by  Dr.  Fletcher,  Bishop  of  Bristol,  as  High  Almoner, 
led  to  a  claim  by  him  on  the  whole  "  goods  and 
chattels "  of  the  alleged  suicide.  After  weary  and 
wearing  litigation,  the  matter  was  referred  to  arbitration, 
and  the  Bishop  was  awarded  ^220  only,  "in  satis 
faction  of  all  pretensions."  It  was  ^220  taken  grasp- 
ingly  from  the  "  widow  and  the  fatherless  " — one  of, 
alas  !  many  unscrupulous  actions  of  this  constantly 
impecunious  Bishop.  (Sorrow  it  is  to  us  thus  to  speak 
of  the  father  of  John  Fletcher  and  a  brother  of  the  noble 
Dr.  Giles  Fletcher,  father  of  Phineas  and  Giles 
Fletcher.)1 

The  surroundings  of  Robert  as  a  child,  then  little 
more  than  a  year  old,  as  of  the  entire  family,  were  thus 
black  enough ;  but  their  worldly  prospects  were  not  alto 
gether  inauspicious.  If  not  to  be  regarded  as  wealthy, 
Nicholas  Herrick  must  have  been  in  fairly  easy  circum 
stances.  By  his  Will  (supra)  he  himself  estimated  his 
entire  property  at  .£3000  ;  but  it  realized  actually 
^5000,  which  may  be  set  down  as  equal  to  ^25,000 
to-day.  Early  in  1593  came  a  posthumous  child,  who 

1  Beaumanor  MSS. 


xlii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

was  named  William,  the  "  dying  brother  "  of  some 
touching  lines  in  the  Hesperides?  As  he  was  born 
at  Harry  Campion's  house  at  Hampton,  [Court]  the 
widow  appears  to  have  retired  thither.  From  an  enig 
matical  reference  to  his  father's  burial-place  it  looks  as 
though  a  shadow  of  mystery  was  allowed  to  hang  over 
his  memory.3  He  thus  writes  of  him  : — 

"  To  the  reverend  shade  of  his  religious  Father. 
That  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,  ( 'as  justments  to  the  dead) 
Forgive,  forgive  me ;  since  I  did  not  know 
Whether  thy  bones  had  here  their  Rest,  or  no. 
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  ; 

1  come  to  pay  a  Debt  of  Birth  I  owe. 

Thou  gav'st  me  life  ( but  mortal ) ;  For  that  one 
Favour,  He  make  full  satisfaction  ; 
For  my  life  mortall,  Rise  from  out  my  Herse, 
And  take  a  life  immortall  from  my  verse."4 

2  Vol.  I.  p.  125. 

3  Probably  the  body  had  been  secretly  buried  and  the  place  kept 
secret  in  fear  of  its  being  buried  as  that  of  a  suicide.     The  rapidity 
of  the  burial,  two  days  or  less  after  death,  is  significant  certainly. 

«  Vol.  I.,  PP.  45-6. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xliii. 

As  annotated  in  the  place  '  seven  Lusters '  is  =  35 
years,  and  gives  1626  as  the  date  of  the  long-delayed 
filial  tribute.  This  was  only  three  years  before  the 
mother's  death.  It  is  not  easy  in  our  dim  light  to  ex 
plain  the  son's  ignorance  of  his  father's  burial-place ; 
but  if  the  litigation  extended  over  years  and  years,  he 
may  intend  a  sub-allusion  in  '  Rest '  to  the  undecided 
question  as  to  suicide  or  accident — the  former  involving 
ecclesiastically  an  unconsecrate  grave  and  a  darkened 
memory — for  the  Bishop  in  his  greed  made  no  pitiful 
allowance  for  so  much  as  temporary  insanity,  even  sup 
posing  his  intended  self-destruction  had  been  true.  As 
an  infant  of  14  months  only,  he  could  himself  have  no 
personal  recollections.  Be  this  as  it  may,  by  the  Will 
the  children  were  confided  to  the  guardianship  of  their 
uncle,  William  Herrick,  (afterward  from  the  boring  skil 
fully  of  a  diamond  for  the  King,  created  Sir  William) 
— who  was  also  a  goldsmith  in  Cheapside  and  pros 
perous  in  every  way.5  From  our  Poet's  kindly  recol 
lections  of  "beloved  Westminster"  it  may  be  pretty 
safely  assumed  that  that  venerable  School  may  claim 

*  In  Appendix  A  to  this  Memorial-Introduction  will  be  found 
genealogical  and  other  details  on  the  Beaumanor  Herricks ;  and 
also  in  Appendix  B  a  fuller  notice  than  hitherto  of  one  eminent 
member  of  the  family,  the  Warden  of  Manchester  College. 


xliv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


him  for  a  pupil1.  Mr.  Walfard  observes  ori  this  :  "  He 
certainly  speaks  of  the  youthful  amusements  of  rowing 
and  swimming  in  connection  with  his  "  beloved  West 
minster  "  in  a  way  which  would  all  but  warrant  us  in 
asserting  that  he  was  educated  at  Westminster  School  ; 
and  the  assertion  would  be  strongly  confirmed  by  the 
evident  saturation  of  his  mind  with  the  writings  of 
classical  authors,  to  an  extent  scarcely  ever  found 
except  in  the  case  of  those  whose  early  years  have  been 
spent  at  an  English  public  school,"  (p.  v.).  It  is  to  be 
regretted  that  the  early  Registers  of  this  renowned  School 
have  all  perished  ;  but  I  agree  with  Mr.  Walford  that 
his  way  of  celebrating  his  "  beloved  Westminster"  seems 
to  indicate  the  School  and  not  his  after  home-residence. 
The  amusements  point  to  boyhood,  not  to  the  later 
abode  in  "St.  Anne's,  Westminster."  The  fact  that 
his  little  brother  William  was  born  at  Hampton  gives 
vividness  to  his  mention  of  the  villages  on  the  Thames, 
whither  he  steered,  "  Richmond,  Kingstone  and 
Hampton-Court."  If  he  came  and  went  to  School 
at  Westminister  from  Hampton  it  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  his  "  Tears  to  Thamasis." 

There  were  four  boys  in  all,  and  their  guardian 
seems  to  have  seen  to  their  several  occupations  with 
characteristic  carefulness  (in  a  double  sense,  as  will 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xlv. 

appear).  The  post-natus  William  died  young  :  Thomas 
was  placed  with  Mr.  Massam,  a  merchant  in  London ; 
but  in  1 6 10  he  retired  to  the  country  and  settled  in  a 
small  farm — as  immortalized  in  one  of  his  brother's  most 
Horatian  and  sustained  poems  ("  A  Country  Life :  to 
his  brother  M.  Tho :  Herrick"),6  and  Nicholas,  was  simi 
larly  settled  early  in  life  in  London,  and  traded  to  the 
Levant.  Another  poem,  addressed  to  him,  shows  that 
he  had  travelled  much  by  sea  and  land,  including 
Jerusalem  ("To  his  Brother,  Nicholas  Herrick").7 
Robert  was  in  like  manner  destined  to  follow  in  his 
father's  footsteps;  for  from  the  original  Indentures  which 
are  at  Beaumanor,  we  learn  he  was  "  bound  apprentice  " 
on  the  25th  September,  1607,  "for  ten  years"  to  his 
uncle  and  guardian.  Ten  years  would  bring  us  forward 
to  1617-18;  but  the  pact  must  have  been  broken,8 


6  Hill,  as  before,  p.  122.     It  is  supposed  that  this  Thomas  was 
father  of  Thomas  Heyricke,  who  in  1668,  resided  at  Market  Har- 
borough  and  issued  a  trader's  token  there ;  and  grandfather  to  a 
Thomas  Herrick  who  was  curate  of  Market  Harborough,  and  who 
published  some  Sermons  and  Poems. 

7  Ibid,  p.  122.     In  1634  his  pedigree  is  entered  in  the  Visitation 
of  London  ;  and  he  had  then  by  his  wife  Susanna,  d.  of  William 
Salter,  3  sons  and  3  daughters.      He  was  living  in   1648  when 
the  Hesperides  was  published. 

*  '  Broken.'    That  is  in  so  far  as  young  Herrick  was  concerned, 


xlvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

seeing  that  he  is  found  addressing  his  uncle  from 
(probably)  Cambridge  so  early  as  September,  1613, 
and  in  all  likelihood  he  had  proceeded  thither  some 
time  previously.  In  1613  he  was  in  his  2ist  year,  and 
youths  went  to  College  from  their  14th  to  their  i7th  year. 
From  the  loss  of  the  University  and  College  registers  and 
other  documents,  it  is  impossible  to  trace  him  exactly ; 
but  there  can  be  no  question  that  he  proceeded  to  the 
University.  Mr.  Walford  casts  doubt  on  his  ever 
having  been  of  St.  John's  College,  and  in  all  Professor 
Mayor's  bulky  tomes  from  the  Baker  MSS.  his  name  is 
sought  for  in  vain,  albeit  innumerable  nobodies  (or 
bodies  only)  have  found,  perhaps  inevitably,  devout 
record  and  eulogy  therein.9  It  is  singular  that  both 
the,se  scholars  should  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  two 
of  his  Letters  are  expressly  dated  "  Cambridg  :  St. 
Johns  "  and  that  in  a  third  in  a  receipt,  he  designates 
himself  a  "  Fellow  Commoner  of  Sfc.  Johns  Colledg  in 

who  certainly  ceased  to  be  an  '  apprentice.'  It  has  been  suggested 
to  me  that  his  dependence  upon  his  uncle  for  the  quarterly  doles  of 
his  own  patrimony  even  after  his  coming  of  age,  is  to  be  accounted 
for  by  the  apprentice  bond  being  still  in  force.  It  is  noteworthy  in 
regard  to  this  that  the  money-letters  cease  about  the  date  of  the 
expiry  of  the  apprentice  term. 

9  Memoir,  as  before,  p.  v. :  and  History  of  St.  John's  College, 
Cambridge,  2  vols.,  8vo,  1869. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xlvii. 

Cambridg."    There  is  thus  absolute  certainty  as  to  his 
having  entered  and  attended  at  S*.  John's  College. 

His  guardian-uncle,  though  the  "  Fellow  Commoner  " 
was  in  his  2ist-23d  years,  kept  a  discreditably  tight 
rein  on  his  nephew's  expenditure.  In  the  first  of  four 
teen  letters  preserved  at  Beaumanor,  the  student  seeks 
"  fifteen  pounds  "  for  his  brother  Thomas.1  It  has  all 
the  stiffness  and  stateliness  of  etiquette  demanded  from 
young  men  (and  eke  young  ladies)  of  the  period,  in 
their  approaches  to  their  seniors  and  (technically) 
superiors — even  in  the  case  of  sons  and  daughters  to 
their  parents.  We  must  pause  to  read  it : 

LETTER  I. 

[September,  1613.] 

"  SR. — Syth  the  qvallitie  of  the  Time,  and  extreamitie  of 
my  Brothers  occasions  forse  me,  I  first  shew  my  deutie,  and 
next  entreat  you  to  furnish  my  Brother  with  15  pounds, 
which  he  would  needes  borrow  of  me,  and  because  his 
vrgent  occasions  stand  in  so  vehement  a  manner,  I  am 
willing  to  pleasure  him,  still  relying  vpon  your  Worships 

1  Nichols  in  his  Leicestershire  was  the  first  to  print  some  of 
these  Letters.  Mr.  Hazlitt  printed  them  in  extenso  as  an  Appendix, 
but  faultily.  I  have  had  the  advantage  of  collating  his  text  with  the 
originals,  through  their  owner,  the  late  W.  Perry-Herrick,  Esq.,  of 
Beaumanor.  Eheu !  He  has  recently  died,  and  in  him  the  English 
Herricks  become  apparently  extinct.  There  are  others  in  the  United 
States. 


xlviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

fauour,  and  trusting  that  I  shall  not  seem  offensiue  to  you 
nor  engender  any  cause  of  dislike  in  my  proceeding  :  I 
haue  writ  thus  much  at  the  request  of  my  Brother,  though 
indeed  I  was  vnwilling  to  acquaint  you  in  this  busines,  yet 
pray,  Sr,  iustly  waigh  each  thing  in  equall  ballances  :  I 
still  runn  headlong  into  your  Worships  debt.  I  trust  you  will 
be  pleased,  though  I  vnwillingly  acquaint  you  with  this. 
Thus  hauing  rudely  made  known  the  effect  of  the  matter, 
I  with  my  endles  deutie  take  my  leaue,  liuing  to  be 
comanded  by  you  and  yours  for  euer : 

ROBERT  HERICK." 

[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  worl.  Sr  William  Hearick 
at  Beaumanor  or  els  where." 

A  second  Letter  but  without  time-date,  though  from 
echo  of  words  used  in  the  preceding,  most  probably 
written  very  soon  after  it — has  under  all  its  phrases  of 
respect  an  under-tone  of  plaint  if  not  complaint  of  his 
"constrained  necessitie."  The  explanation  of  the  evident 
sore  feeling  of  the  Writer  is  to  be  found  in  this,  that 
every  one  of  the  payments  in  these  letters  was  simply 
out  of  his  own  "little  fortune,"  which  amounted  to  from 
^470  to  .£660  (=  ^2500  now).  It  was  hard  to  have 
what  was  his  own  doled  out  meagrely,  in  this  knowledge. 
This  second  letter  intimates  a  very  bare  '  setting  up ' 
at  the  University.  Had  the  nephew-apprentice  irri 
tated  the  old  knight  by  violating  his  indenture  to  him  ? 
We  can  only  conjecture.  Here  is 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xlix. 


LETTER  II. 

"  Cambridg  :  St.  Johns. 

"  Sr. — Considering  the  importunitie  of  my  own  affaires, 
and  the  last  testimonie  of  your  so  euident  loue,  makes  me 
to  run  headlong  between  two  ineuitable  difficulties,  but 
desirous  of  equall  performance  :  the  shortness  of  this  shall 
not  hinder  the  one,  nor  I  trust  detract  from  the  other :  Sr, 
vnderstand  that  my  hart  (more  feruently  then  my  pen  can 
express)  speaks  my  deuout  thanks,  and  ioyes  in  no  greater 
thing  then  this,  that  it  can  see  some  sparkes  of  your  con- 
ceald  affection  :  I  haue  not  as  hitherto  acquainted  you 
with  the  chardg  I  Hue  in,  but  your  self  can  iudg,  by  my 
often  (as  now  at  this  time)  writing  for  mony,  which  when  I 
doe,  it  is  for  no  impertinent  expens,  but  for  constraind 
necessitie  :  for  be  your  self  the  iudg,  when  aboue  twentie 
pounds  will  not  suffice  the  house,  not  reckening  with  it 
commoditie  for  my  self  (I  meane  apparell  nor  other 
complements)  nor  tuition  mony  nor  other  sundrie  occasions 
for  chardges,  this  but  considered,  there  is  no  reasonable 
soule,  but  will  kindly  and  indulgently  censure  of  my  lyfe 
and  me.  Had  I  but  a  competent  estate  to  mayntayne  my 
self,  to  my  title,  I  could  presume  of  as  soone  atayning  to  ye 
end  of  the  efficient  cause — my  coming, — as  he  that  hath 
stronger  cause  and  fortune  :  Sr,  I  know  you  vnderstand 
me,  and  did  you  but  know  how  disfurnished  I  came  to 
Cambridg,  without  bedding  (which  I  yet  want)  and  other 
necessaries,  you  would  (as  I  now  trust  you  will)  better  your 
thoughts  towards  me,  considering  of  my  forc't  expence. 
Sr,  I  entreat  you  to  furnish  me  with  ten  pounds  this 
quarter ;  for  the  last  mony  which  I  receaud  came  not  till 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


the  last  quarter  had  almost  spent  it  self,  which  now  con- 
straines  me  so  suddenly  to  write  for  more.  Good  Sr, 
forbeare  to  censure  me  as  prodigall,  for  I  endeuour  rather 
to  strengthen  (then  debilitate)  my  feeble  familie  fortune. 
I  should  fill  much  paper,  if  I  should  follow  my  passions ; 
but  I  will  break  off,  only  entreating  you  (yf  there  be  no 
waye  for  me  to  leade  a  lyfe  here)  that  then  you  would 
write  me  your  counsell  how  I  maye  learn  to  liue.  In  hope 
that  you  will  some  waye  effectuate  my  desires,  with  all 
respect  of  deutie  and  obseruance,  I  forstop  2  my  passage. 
"  Euer  to  be  at  comand  and  studious  to  please, 

"  R.  HEARICK." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  his-  most  careftill  Vncle  Sr  Willi : 
Hearick  dwelling-  at  London  in 
Wood-streete.'^ 

There  was  a  little  break  of  sarcasm  surely  in  that 
endorsement  "To  his  most  carefull  Vncle"  as  within 
in  the  phrase,  "  concealed  affection." 

Still  at  8*.  John's  College,  a  third  letter  brings  the 
student  before  us  in  the  same  attitude  of  formal  and 
punctilious  obeisance  to  the  grand  city-uncle  and  evi 
dently  hampered  for  books  and  scholarly  necessities, 
after  a  fashion  not  at  all  creditable  to  his  guardian. 
In  the  last  letter  he  had  said  "  I  should  fill  much  paper 
if  I  should  follow  my  passions ;  but  I  will  break  off, 
only  entreating  you  (yf  there  be  no  waye  for  me  to  leade 

2 1  stop  my  going  on  earlier  than  I  otherwise  would. 


MEMORIA  L-INTRODUCTION.  \\, 

a  lyfe  Here)  that  then  you  would  write  me  your  coun- 
sell  how  I  rnaye  leame  to  Hue."  Surely  this  was  most 
reasonable?  With  his  youth  passing  away  and  his 
future  indefinite,  he  now  still  more  passionately  longs 
to  be  and  to  do  something,  e.g.  "  because  that  Time 
hath  devoured  some  yeeres,  I  am  the  more  importunate 
in  the  crauing."  One  is  reminded  of  a  greater  Poet 
who  similary  marked  the  flight  of  his  years  and 
mourned  grandly  over  uneffected  purpose  and  hinder 
ing  circumstance.  Before  we  turn  to  this  letter  we 
may  pause  to  read  Milton's  great  sonnet : — 

"  On  his  having  arrived  at  the  age  of  twenty -three. 

How  soon  hath  Time,  the  subtle  thief  of  youth, 

Stolen  on  his  wing  my  three-and-twentieth  year  ! 

My  hasting  days  fly  on  with  full  career, 

But  my  late  spring  no  bud  or  blossom  shew'th. 

Perhaps  my  semblance  might  deceive  the  truth 
That  I  to  manhood  am  arrived  so  near  ^ 
And  inward  ripeness  doth  much  less  appear, 
That  some  more  timely-happy  spirits  endu'th. 

Yet,  be  it  less  or  more,  or  soon  or  slow, 

tit  shall  be  still  in  strictest  measure  even 
To  that  same  lot,  however  mean  or  high, 
oward  which  Time  leads  me,  and  the  will  of  Heaven. 
All  is,  if  I  have  grace  to  use  it  so, 
As  ever  in  my  great  Task- Master's  eye. 
do  not  think  that  I  do  wrong  to  Herrick  when 


ME  MORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 


I  judge  that  in  these  years  there  came  no  such 
vision  of  the  '  great  Task-Master's  eye  '  to  him. 
It  were  of  the  Pleasures  of  Imagination  rather  than  of 
the  Pleasures  of  Hope,  to  think  of  him  as,  thus  far,  more 
than  impulsively  ardent  in  the  acquisition  of  that  odd 
and  discursive  learning  which  characterizes  his  Poems. 
His  fierce  Norse  blood,  I  fear,  made  the  '  flesh '  rather 
than  the  '  spirit '  master — as  the  Puritans  would  have 
phrased  it  There  was  evidently,  as  yet,  no  fixed 
purpose  of  studying  for  '  holy  orders  ;  '  and  so,  as 
evidently,  he  gave  full  swing  to  what  were  accounted 
lay-liberty  to  quaff  of  all  cups  that  might  be  put  to  his 
lips.  Even  later  he  had  to  accuse  himself  of  "wild, 
unhallowed  rhymes,"  and  contemporary  with  his  attend 
ance  at  the  University  the  manners  were  gay  (in  a 
sorrowful  sense),  and  not  a  few  of  the  students  (so- 
called)  uncleanly.  Evidently  'evil  reports  '  reached 
the  old  gentleman — Herrick's  uncle — concerning  him  ; 
for  he  deprecates  his  suspicions  (in  Letter  X).  Now  for 

LETTER  HI. 

From  St.  Johns  in  Cambridg. 
"  Qui  timide  rogat, 
Negare  docet." 

"  Are  the  minds  of  men  immutable  ?  and  will  they  rest 
in  only  one  opinion  without  the  least  perspicuous  shewe  of 


ME  MORI  A  L-INTROD  UCTION. 


chaing  ?  O  no,  they  cannot,  for  Tempora  mutantur  et  nos 
mutamur  in  illis :  it  is  an  old  but  yet  young  saying  in  our 
age,  as  times  chainge,  so  mens  minds  are  altered :  O 
would  .  .  .  .3  weere  scene,  for  then  some  pittying  Planet 
would  with  a  dr  [op  of]  deaw  refreash  my  withered  hopes, 
and  giue  a  lyfe  to  that  which  [is  about  ?]  to  die ;  the  bodie 
is  presented  by  foode,  and  lyfe  by  hope,  which  (but  want 
ing  either  of  these  conseruers)  faint,  feare,  fall,  freese,  and 
die.  Tis  in  your  power  to  cure  all,  to  infuse  by  a  pro 
fusion  a  duble  lyfe  into  a  single  bodie.  Homo  homini 
Deus  :  man  should  be  soe,  and  he  is  commanded  so ;  but, 
fraile  and  glass-lik,  man  proues  brittle  in  many  things. 
How  kind  Arcisilaus  the  philosopher  was  vnto  Apelles  the 
painter,  Plutark  in  his  Morals  will  tell  you ;  which  should 
I  heere  depaint,  the  length  of  my  letter  would  hide  the 
sight  of  my  Labour,  which  that  it  may  not,  I  bridle  in  my 
Quill,  and  mildly,  and  yet  I  feare  too  rashly,  and  too  boldly, 
make  knowne  and  discouer  [that]  which  my  modestie 
would  conceale :  and  this  is  all :  my  studie  craues  but  your 
assistance  to  furnish  hir  with  bookes,  wherein  she  is  most 
desirous  to  laboure ;  blame  not  hir  modest  boldnes,  but  suffer 
the  aspertions  [=sprinklings}  of  your  loue  to  distill  vpon  hir, 
and  next  to  Heauen  she  will  consecrate  hir  laboures  vnto  you, 
and  because  that  Time  hath  deuoured  some  yeeres,  I  am- 
the  more  importunate  in  the  crauing :  suffer  not  the 
distance  to  hinder  that  which  I  know  your  disposition  will 
not  denie.  And  now  is  the  time  (that  florida  &tas)  which 
promises  frutifulness  for  hir  former  barrenness,  and  wisheth 

1  The  corners  of  the  original  are  somewhat  injured,  and  hence 
certain  words  are  illegible. 


liv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

all  to  hope  :  As  euery  thing  will  haue  in  time  an  end,  so 
this,  which  though  it  would  extend  it  self  and  ouerflow  its 
bounds  I  forceibly  withstand  it.  Wishing  this  worlds 
happines  to  follow  and  attend  you  in  this  lyf,  and  that  with 
a  triumphant  crown  of  glorie  you  maye  be  crowned  in  the 
best  world  to  come.  *'  ROBERT  HEARICK." 

[Endorsement:] 
"  To  the  very  Worshipf  [ul]  His 

Vncle  Sr  W[ill.]   Hearicke  dwelling 

at  London  in  Woodstreete.     These." 

These  Letters  (I.  to  III.)  belong  to  1613-14.  So 
that  1615,  which  has  hitherto  been  given  as  the  year  of 
his  going  to  Cambridge,  is  proved  to  be  much  too  late. 
The  next  two  Letters — as  shown  by  the  receipt  at  the 
foot  of  the  first — belong  to  January,  1615-6  :  another 
to  February,  1616  :  another  to  April,  1616.  These 
have  all  the  same  'burden'  of  "  mitte pecuniam?  as  it 
so  happens  (what  must  be  repeated  and  remembered) 
that  this  one  thing  was  all  that  led  to  correspondence 
between  nephew  and  niggard  uncle — who  gave  (of 
what  was  not  his  own  but  simply  held  in  trust)  as  if  a 
personal  bestowment.  These  four  further  Letters  follow 
successively : — 

LETTER  IV. 

"  Cambridg.  [January,  1615-16. 

SR. — Your  prosperitie  desired  and  the  good  success  of 
your  issue,  I  pronounce  my  deutie,  and  wish  some  felicitie 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  lv. 


to  my  self  (as  all  other  creatures  do).  I  entreat  you  (as 
heretofore)  so  now  to  paye  to  Mr.  Adrian  Morrus,  book 
seller  in  the  black  fryers,  the  some  of  tenn  pounds,  who 
hath  payd  the  same  some  at  Cambridg  :  I  cannot  meet  the 
expence  for  want  of  primarie  consideration ;  be  you  but 
pleas'd,  and  I  shall  iustifie  the  expectation  (which  I  trust 
is  religious)  of  all  men.  My  prayers  begin  at  home,  but 
end  at  you  their  obiect.  Bless  me  with  your  countenance, 
and  I  shall  Hue  triumphant,  and  my  weake  hopes  will 
receaue  vigour.  Yf  you  reflect  vpon  ....  I  am  all  yours 
and  completely  yours  for  euer  obsequious, 

"  ROBIN  HARicK."4 

[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  Worpfl.  his  louing  Vncle 
Sr  William  Hearick  dwelling  at 
London  in  great  Wood- 
street.     This." 

LETTER  V. 

"  Cambridge,  [January,  1616.] 

"  Before  you  vnceald  my  letter  (right  wor11.)  it  cannot  be 
doubted  but  you  had  perfect  knowledg  of  the  essence  of  my 
writing,  before  you  reade  it;  for  custome  hath  made  you 
expert  in  my  playne  songe  (mitte  pecuniam)  that  beeing 
the  cause  sine  qua  non,  or  the  power  that  giues  lyfe  and 
beeing  to  each  matter.  I  delight  not  to  draw  your  imagi- 

4  The  request  was  granted,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  letter  appears 
Robert  Martin's  receipt  for  £10  to  be  paid  to  Herrickj  this  bears 
date  Jan.  24,  1615-16.  The  present  letter  is  not  in  the  poet's  hand 
writing,  but  seems  to  have  been  written  for  him,  and  his  name 
added  playfully. 


Ivi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


nation  to  inextricable  perplexities,  or  knit  vp  my  Love  in 
indissoluable  knotts,  but  make  no  other  exposition  but  the 
literall  sence,  which  is  to  entreat  you  to  paye  to  Mr.  Adrian 
Morice  the  some  of  tenn  pounds  as  customarily,  and  to 
take  a  note  of  his  hand  for  the  receit,  which  I  desire  may 
be  effected  brefly,  because  the  circumstance  of  the  time 
must  be  expressed.  I  perceaue  I  must  crie  with  the 
afflicted  vsquequo,  vsquequo,  Domine.  Yet  I  haue  confi 
dence  that  I  Hue  in  your  memorie,  howsoeuer  Time  brings 
not  the  thing  hoped  for  to  its  iust  maturity  ;  but  my  beleef 
is  stronge,  and  I  do  establish  my  hopes  on  rocks,  and  feare 
no  quick-sands,  be  you  my  firme  assistant,  and  good  effects 
(produced  from  virtuous  causes)  follow.  So  shall  my  wishes 
pace  with  yours  for  the  suplement  of  your  owne  happi 
ness  and  the  perfection  of  your  owne  posterity. 
"  Euer  to  be  commanded, 

"  ROBERT  HEARICK. 

"To  paye  to  Mr.  Brunt  Bookseller  in  Paules  church 
yarde  the  some  aboue  named. 

LETTER  VI. 

"  Chambridge  [February,  1616.] 

."  Because  my  Commencment  is  at  hand  (worthie  Sir),  I 
am  compeld  to  write,  though  it  be  with  a  violent  relucta- 
tion ;  for  what  hermonie  can  be  effected  when  there  is 
diuision  'twixt  the  hart  and  hand ;  want  and  chardge 
admit  no  sympathie,  because  they  are  of  diffring  natures, 
not  conuertibles.  Yet  volens,  nolens,  it  must  be  done,  and 
as  heretofore  so  now  I  desire  your  worship  to  paye  to  this 
Bearer,  Mr.  Hotchkin,  the  dew  of  tenn  pounds  for  my  vse 
at  Chambridge.  I  haue  runn  thorough  the  most  of  the 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ivii. 

expense  which  is  not  much,  but  in  respect  of  disabilitie. 
Yf  it  may  please  you  to  remember  me  like  a  trew  Mae 
cenas,  I  shall  glory  in  that  my  Tale  hath  raysd  me  vp  a 
Friend  to  share  in  my  passions — 

'  Multorum  manibus  grande  leuatur  onus.' 

Many  hands  make  light  worke  ;  your  healpe  can  make  my 
burden  light.  I  atend  your  pleasure,  and  as  I  hope  such 
wilbe  my  hap,  I  haue  fayth  in  the  goodness  of  your  Nature. 
Attending  with  patience  the  complement  and  consumma 
tion  of  my  hopes. 

"  Euer  obseruant 

"  to  your  benignant 

"fauours,  R.  HEARIK."* 

"  Bis  dat  qui  cito  dat." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  worU.  his  louing  vncle 
Sr  William  Hearick  dwelling 
at  London  in  Great 
Woodstreet. 
This." 


LETTER  VII. 

"  Camb.  [April,  1616.] 

"  Sir,  that  which  makes  my  letter  to  be  abortive  and 
borne  before  maturitie,  is  and  hath  been  my  Commenc- 
ment,  which  I  haue  now  ouergonn,  though  I  confess  with 
many  a  throe  and  pinches  of  the  purse ;  but  it  was  neces- 
sarie,  and  the  prize  was  worthie  the  ha^arde ;  which  makes 
me  less  sensible  of  the  expence,  by  reason  of  a  titular 

5  The  acknowledgment  of  the  person  who  was  appointed  to  receive 
this  sum,  is  at  the  foot  of  the  letter  as  elsewhere. 


Iviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


prerogatiue — &  bonum  est  prodire  in  bono.  The  essence 
of  my  writing  is  (as  heretofore)  to  entreat  you  to  paye  for 
my  use  to  Mr.  Arthour  Johnson  bookseller  in  Paules 
church  yard  the  ordinarie  sume  of  tenn  pounds,  and  that 
with  as  much  sceleritie  as  you  maye,  though  I  could  wish 
chardges  had  leaden  wings  and  Tortice  feet  to  come  vpon 
me  ;  sed  votis  puerilibus  opto.  Sr,  I  fix  my  hopes  on  Time 
and  you ;  still  gazing  for  an  happie  flight  of  birdes,  and 
the  refreshing  blast  of  a  second6  winde.  Doubtfull  as  yet 
of  either  Fortunes,  I  liue,  hoarding  vp  prouision  against 
the  assault  of  either.  Thus  I  salute  your  Vertues. 

"  Hopefull  R.  HEARICK." 

It  has  already  been  stated  that  there  is  no  trace  of 
Herrick's  matriculation  at  either  St.  John's  College,  or 
at  Trinity  Hall,  or  at  the  Registry ;  but  from  the  last  it  is 
found  that  he  took  his  B.A.  degree  from  Trinity  Hall  in 
1616-7,  when  he  signed  himself  '  Robertus  Hearick.'7 
He  must  have  migrated  from  St.  John's  to  Trinity  Hall 
in  1616;  and  thus  the  letters  dated  by  Mr.  Hazlitt8 
1617,  belong  to  1615-6  ;  for  in  the  last  of  the  next  group 
he  is  still  a  "  fellow  commoner  of  St.  John's  colledg." 
As  these  additional  letters  are  read,  be  it  still  borne  in 

6  The  Latin  secundus  =  favourable,  profiting. 

7  Unfortunately  only  the  year-dates  are  recorded.     Mr.  William 
Aid.  Wright,  M.A.,  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  was  so  good  as 
to  favour  me  with  this  and  another  entry  at  the  Registry. 

8  Edition  of  Herrick,  as  before,  pp.  492-94  et  seqq. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  lix. 

mind,  that  their  monotonous  refrain  of  'money'  is  in 
consequence  of  the  correspondence  being  practically  so 
many  receipts  for  (apparently)  quarterly  payments  of  the 
"customarye  ;£io."  Again  these  Letters  follow  suc 
cessively  : — 

LETTER  VIII. 

"  Health  from  Heauen. 

"  Chambridg. 

"  Sr.  —  I  haue  long  since  expected  your  return  in  that 
your  long  absence  hath  made  me  want  that  which  your 
presence  could  haue  remedied.  I  trust  you  are  not  igno 
rant  what  my  meaning  is ;  may  it  therefore  please  you  to 
send  me  £10,  for  my  ocasions  require  so  much ;  and  the 
long  time  that  your  Worship  hath  been  absent  from 
London  hath  compelled  me  to  runne  somewhat  deepe 
into  my  Tailours  debt.  I  entreat  your  Worship  to  send 
me  a  part  of  my  stipend  with  all  possible  sceleritie,  for 
want  of  which  so  necessarie  helpe,  cares  greatly  posses  me, 
and  force  me  contrarie  to  my  wish,  in  some  sort  to  neglect 
my  study  ;  whereas  yf  you  would  be  pleased  to  furnish  me 
with  so  much,  that  I  might  keepe  beforehand  with  my  Tutor, 
I  doubt  not  but  with  quicke  dispatch  to  attaine  to  what  I 
ayme.  Thus  trusting  that  you  will  in  some  sort  be  mind- 
full  of  me,  in  sending  me  that  which  I  haue  writ  for,  with 
my  eternall  deutie  to  your  self  for  euer,  togeither  with  my 
Ladie,  I  finish. 

"  For  euer  readie 

"  to  be  comanded 

"  during  mortallitie 

"  ROBERT  HEARICK." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  I  entreate  your  worship  to  furnish  me  with  so  much  as 
will  serue  me  till  the  Natiuitie." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  worll.  his  carefull  vncle  Sr 
William  Hearick.     These  be  delivered 
at  his  house  in  London." 

LETTER  IX. 

"  From  Cambridg. 

"  Sr. — I  am  loath,  yet  pforce  I  must,  beeing  ouerruled 
by  necessitie,  trouble  you.  I  haue,  before  the  birth  of  this 
letter,  sent  others  which  peraduenture  haue  been  stayed  by 
infortunitie ;  but  I  trust  this  will  manifest  itself.  Let  it  not 
seeme  offensiue,  though  I  exceede  a  little  in  length,  for 
your  Worships  long  beeing  in  the  Cuntrie,  hath  constrained 
me  contrarie  to  my  will  to  become  a  debter  to  my  instruct', 
— wherfore  let  me  entreat  your  worship  to  be  mindfull  of 
me,  and  that  this  weeke  I  may  receaue  it ;  for  my  extreames 
be  such  that  vnless  I  attaine  what  now  I  desire,  I  shalbe 
constrained  to  make  a  iourney  to  London  to  satisfie  the 
mind  of  my  Tutour.  Good  Sr,  consider  this,  and  redresse 
it,  and  I  shall  for  euer  in  deutie  show  my  self  most  abun 
dantly  thankfull.  I  trust  this  little  will  suffice  to  explain 
my  great  want,  and  I  hope  you  will  in  some  sorte  bee 
carefull  for  my  credit,  which  wilbe  weak,  except  I  hear 
from  your  worship  this  weeke.  I  will  not  extend  too  farr, 
but  with  my  deutie  to  you  and  my  Ladie,  I  for  this  time 
cease.  "  Being  euer,  obsequious  to  both, 

"ROBERT  HEARICK." 

[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  Right  worshipfull  his  louing  vncle 
Sr  Willia  Hearick  dwelling  at 
London  in  Great  Wood- 
street,  Giue  this." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixi. 


LETTER  X. 

"  Chambridge. 

"Sr. — Though  my  seruice  be  late,  yet  better  thus  then 
neuer ;  it  is  in  you  to  pardon  what  I  haue  so  long  neglected, 
and  I  beleeue  you  will.  I  will  come  speadily  and  person 
ally  to  attend  you  at  London,  and  will  bring  your  bond 
along;  to  which  end  (necessitie  constrayning  me)  I  entreate 
you  out  of  my  litle  possession  to  deliver  to  this  bearer  the 
customarye  £10,  without  which  I  cannot  meate9  my  ioyr- 
ney  :  I  vnderstand  it  is  troublesom  to  you  for  the  quarterly 
dispatch,  and  I  am  honestly  sorrowfull  for  your  disease. 
Pardon  me,  and  mayntayn  some  good  opinion  of  me,  that 
what  I  haue  lost  heretofore  in  your  estimation,  time  and 
my  endeuours  may  redeeme  it.  Trusting  to  which  I  offer 
vp  to  them,  and  to  your  self,  the  sacrifice  of  my  vowes. 

"ROBERT  HEARICKE." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  his  lovinge  Vncle  Sr  William  Hearicke 

dwellinge  at  Westminster 

this  del.  del." 

LETTER  XL 

"  Cambridg,  nth  of  October. 

"  Sr. — My  deutie  remembred  to  your  self  and  La  :  the 
cause  essentiall  is  this :  That  I  would  entreat  you  to  paye 
to  this  bringer  (to  Mr.  Adrian  Morrus  book  seller  in  the 
black  friers,)  the  some  of  £10  the  which  my  Tutor  hath 
receaued,  to  be  payde  at  London.  I  have  business  that 
drawes  me  from  prolixitie;  and  I  craue  pardon  for  this 
rudeness,  still  expecting  the  sun-shine  of  youre  fauour  and 

9   =-  meet,  the  expenses  of. 


Ixii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


the  daye  of  happiness.  I  end  with  my  prayers  for  your 
preseruation  and  health,  the  best  terrestriall  good.  Long  lyf 
and  the  aspertions  [  =  sprinklings]  of  Heauen  fall  vpon  you. 

"  Yours  euer 

"  obsequious 

"R.  HEARICK." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  worll.,  &c." 

LETTER  XII. 

"  Cambridg. 

"  Sir, — I  presume  again e  to  present  another  Embassador, 
who,  in  the  best  eloquence  that  was  taught  him,  aboun- 
dingly  thanks  you  for  the  larg  extent  of  your  favor  and 
kindness;  which,  though  present  time  denies  to  mak  any 
ostentation  of  desert,  yet  future  ....  crownes  the  expec 
tation  of  the  hopefull;  and  because  the  urgent  extreamite 
and  vnexpected  occasion  of  chamber  roome  instigats  me  to 
such  importunate  demands,  I  am  bold  to  entreat  you  that 
the  mony  might  this  week  be  sent  me,  for  necessitie  fer 
vently  requires  it ;  and  I  am  sorrie  to  be  the  subiect  of  so 
great  a  molestation  to  your  Worship;  but,  trusting  on 
your  patience,  I  am  bold  to  saye  that  generous  minds  still 
haue  the  best  contentment,  and  willingly  healp  where  there 
is  an  euidencie  of  want.  Thus  hoping  to  triumph  in  the 
victorie  of  my  wishes,  by  being  not  frustraeted  in  my 
expectatio,  I  take  my  leaue,  and  eternally  thank  you.  Liuing 
to  be  comanded  by  you  and  yours  to  the  end  of  mortalitie. 
"  Euer  most 

"  obsequious 

"ROBERT  HEARICK." 

"  Be  it  known  to  all,  that  I  Robert  Hearick,  Fellow  com- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixiii. 

moner  of  St.  Johns  colledg  in  Cambridg,  acknowledg  my 
self  to  stand  indebited  unto  my  vncle,  Sir  Will.  Hearick, 
of  London,  in  the  some  of  tenn  pounds,  for  so  much 
receaued  of  him ;  to  be  repayde  vnto  him  a[t]  all  times  :  I 
saye,  receaued  tenn  pounds  by  me,  Robert  Hearick." 
[Endorsement :] 

"  To  the  right  worll.  his  vncle  Sr  Willi :  Hearicke 

dwelling  at  London  in  Great  Wood 

strete  giue  This." 

The  wording  of  the  receipt  seems  to  show  that 
Herrick  had  either  come  to  the  end  of  his  own  money 
or  that  the  money  was  a  loan  over  and  above  his  allow 
ance.  These  importunities  for  books  and  necessaries 
recall  that  through  the  same  years,  and  at  the  same  Uni 
versity,  George  Herbert  was  writing  in  much  the  same 
strain  to  his  good  and  generous  step-father,  Sir  John 

Danvers.     It  will  put  the  blame  on  the  guardian-uncle, 

i  •     * 

and  lighten  the  pecuniary-iteration  of  these  letters,  to  show 

that  apart  from  the  monies  being  from  his  own  patrimony, 
his  requests  were  really  necessities — not  forgetting  that 
Herbert's  love  of  *  gay-dress '  probably  carried  him 
further  than  Herrick.  I  cull  one  characteristic  letter 
from  Herbert,  as  thus  : — 

Sir, 

I  dare  no  longer  be  silent,  lest  while  I  think  I  am 
modest,  I  wrong  both  my  self  and  also  the  confidence  my 
friends  have  in  me ;  wherefore  I  will  open  my  case  unto 


Ixiv.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 


you,  which  I  think  deserves  the  reading  at  the  least ;  and 
it  is  this — I  want  books  extremely.  You  know,  sir,  how  I 
am  now  setting  foot  into  divinity,  to  lay  the  platform  of  my 
future  life;  and  shall  I  then  be  fain  always  to  borrow 
books  and  build  on  another's  foundation  ?  What  trades 
man  is  there  who  will  set  up  without  his  tools  ?  Pardon  my 
boldness,  sir,  it  is  a  most  serious  case,  nor  can  I  write  coldly 
in  that  wherein  consisteth  the  making  good  of  my  former 
education,  of  obeying  that  Spirit  which  hath  guided  me 
hitherto,  and  of  atchieving  my  (I  dare  say)  holy  ends.  This 
also  is  aggravated  in  that  I  apprehend  what  my  friends 
would  have  been  forward  to  say  if  I  had  taken  ill  courses, 
'  Follow  your  book,  and  you  shall  want  nothing.'  You 
know,  sir,  it  is  their  ordinary  speech,  and  now  let  them 
make  it  good ;  for  since  I  hope  I  have  not  deceived  their 
expectation,  let  not  them  deceive  mine.  But  perhaps  they 
will  say,  '  You  are  sulky ;  you  must  not  study  too  hard.' 
It  is  true,  God  knows,  I  am  weak,  yet  not  so  but  that  every 
day  I  may  step  towards  my  journey's  end;  and  I  love  my 
friends  so  well  as  that  if  all  things  proved  not  well,  I  had 
rather  the  fault  should  be  on  me  than  on  them.  But  they 
will  object  again,  '  What  becomes  of  your  annuity?'  Sir, 
if  there  be  any  truth  in  me,  I  find  it  little  enough  to  keep 
me  in  health.  You  know  I  was  sick  last  vacation,  neither 
am  I  yet  recovered,  in  that  I  am  fain  ever  and  anon  to  buy 
somewhat  tending  towards  my  health;  for  infirmities  are 
both  painful  and  costly.  Now  this  Lent  I  am  forbid  utterly 
to  eat  any  fish,  so  that  I  am  fain  to  dyet  in  my  chamber  at 
mine  own  cost ;  for  in  our  publick  halls  you  know,  is  nothing 
but  fish  and  white  meats ;  out  of  Lent  also  twice  a  week,  on 
Fridays  and  Saturdays,  I  must  do  so,  which  yet  sometimes 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixv. 

I  fast.  Sometimes  also  I  ride  to  Newmarket,  and  there  lie 
a  day  or  two  for  fresh  air ;  all  which  tend  to  avoiding  of 
costlier  matters  if  I  should  fall  absolutely  sick.  I  protest 
and  vow  I  even  study  thrift,  and  yet  I  am  scarce  able  with 
much  ado  to  make  one  half  year's  allowance  shake  hands 
with  the  other.  And  yet  if  a  book  of  four  or  five  shillings 
come  in  my  way,  I  buy  it,  though  I  fast  for  it;  yea  some 
times  of  ten  shillings.  But,  alas,  sir,  what  is  that  to  those 
infinite  volumes  of  divinity,  which  yet  every  day  swell  and 
grow  bigger  ?  Noble  sir,  pardon  my  boldness,  and  con 
sider  but  these  three  things  :  first,  the  bulk  of  divinity  ; 
secondly,  the  time  when  I  desire  this  (which  is  now,  when  I 
must  lay  the  foundation  of  my  whole  life) ;  thirdly,  what  I 
desire  and  to  what  end — not  vain  pleasures  nor  to  a  vain 
end.  If  then,  sir,  there  be  any  course,  either  by  engaging 
my  future  annuity,  or  any  other  way,  I  desire  you  sir,  to  be 
my  mediator  to  them  in  my  behalf. 

Now  I  write  to  you,  Sir,  because  to  you  I  have  ever 
opened  my  heart ;  and  have  reason  by  the  patents  of  your 
perpetual  favour  to  do  so  still,  for  I  am  sure  you  love  your 
faithful  servant  GEORG  HERBERT. 

"Trin.  Coll.  March  18.  1617." » 

Far  different  was  the  response  to  the  "  sweet  Singer  " 
of  "  The  Temple  "  from  that  to  the  poet  of  "  Hes- 
perides  "  ;  and  for  my  part,  across  the  centuries,  I  cry, 
Beshrew  the  close-fisted  old  Knight. 

1  Prose  of  Herbert  in  Fuller  Worthies'  Library :  Vol.  iii.  of  Com 
plete  Works,  pp.  485-6. 

e 


Ixvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Like  Herbert,  Robert  Herrick  had  undoubtedly  pro 
ceeded  to  the  University  with  a  vague  intention  to  study 
for  the  Church ;  and,  like  him,  he  ought  now  to  have 
been  "  setting  foot  into  divinity."  But  his  next  letter 
brings  him  before  us  as  doubtful  whether  to  direct  "  his 
study"  to  Divinity  or  to  Law.  This  letter  also  belongs 
to  1616.  It  follows  : — 

LETTER  XIII. 

"  After  my  abundant  thanks  for  your  last  great  loue 
(worthie  Sir),  proud  of  your  fauoure  and  kindness  shewne 
by  my  Ladie  to  my  vnworthy  selfe,  thus  I  laye  open  my 
selfe ;  that,  for  as  much  as  my  continuance  will  not  long 
consist  in  the  spheare  where  I  now  moue,  I  make  known  my 
thoughts,  and  modestly  craue  your  counsell,  whether  it 
were  better  for  me  to  direct  my  study  towards  the  lawe  or 
not ;  which  yf  I  should  (as  it  will  not  be  impertinent),  I 
can  with  facilitie  laboure  my  self  into  another  colledg 
appointed  for  the  like  end  and  studyes,  where  I  assure  my 
self  the  charge  will  not  be  so  great  as  where  I  now  exist ; 
I  make  bold  freely  to  acquaint  you  with  my  thoughts  ;  and 
I  entreat  you  answeare  me  :  this  being  most  which  checks 
me,  that  my  time  (I  trust)  beeing  short,  it  may  be  to  a 
lesser  end  and  smaller  purpose;  but  that  shalbe  as  you 
shall  lend  direction.  Nothing  now  remaines  but  my  perfect 
thankfullness  and  remembrance  of  your  hopefull  promises; 
which  when  Heauen,  working  with  you,  shall  bring  them  to 
performance,  I  shall  triumph  in  the  victorie  of  my  wishes ; 
till  when,  my  prayers  shall  inuocate  Heauen  to  powre  vpon 


ME  MORI  A  L-  IN  TROD  UCTION.  Ixvii . 

you  and  your  posteritie  the  utmost  of  all  essentiall  happi 
ness.  "  Yours  euer  seruicable 

"  R.  HEARICK." 

The  closing  Letter  is  dated  "  Trinitie  Hall,  Cam 
bridge,"  and  is  pathetic  in  its  references  to  his  "ebbing 
estate  " — by  which  I  understand  that  Sir  William  had  told 
him  his  .£400  to  ^500  was  nearly  exhausted ;  nor  less 
so  his  resolution  in  his  new  College  "to  Hue  recluse,  till 
Time  contract  me  to  some  other  calling,  striuing  now 
with  myself  (retayning  vpright  thoughts)  both  sparingly 
to  Hue  and  thereby  to  shun  the  current  of  expence." 
The  yearly  amount  allowed  was  (apparently)  at  most 
^£40,  and  had  it  been  from  Sir  William  himself  instead  of 
from  his  own  "  little  portion,"  Herrick  might  have  had 
no  great  ground  of  complaint.  As  it  was  he  certainly 
had  ground  of  complaint  It  is  likewise  to  be  noted 
that  though  Robert  (Sir  William's  elder  brother)  was 
associated  with  him  as  '  overseer  '  of  the  Will,  the 
Knight  seems  practically  to  have  ignored  him  from  the 
outset  and  acted  alone.  The  last  letter  thus  runs  : — 

LETTER  XIV. 

"  Trinitie  Hall,  Camb. 

"  Sr. — The  confidence  I  haue  of  your  bothe  virtuous  and 
generous  disposition  makes  me  (though  with  some  honest 
reluctation)  the  seldomer  to  solicite  you;  for  I  haue  so 


Ixviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

incorporated  beleef  into  me,  that  I  cannot  chuse  but  per- 
swade  my  self  that  (though  absent)  I  stand  imprinted  in 
your  memorie ;  and  the  remembrance  of  my  last  beeing  at 
London  serud  for  an  earnest  motiue  (which  I  trust  Hues  yet 
vnperisht)  to  the  effectuating  of  my  desire,  which  is  not  but 
in  modesty  ambitious,  and  consequently  virtuous ;  but, 
where  freeness  is  euident,  there  needs  no  feere  for  forward 
ness  ;  and  I  doubt  not  (because  fayth  giues  boldness)  but 
that  Heauen,  togeither  with  your  self,  will  bring  my  ebbing 
estate  to  an  indifferent  tyde;  meane  while  I  hope  I  haue 
(as  I  presume  you  know)  changd  my  colledg  for  one  where 
the  quan[ti]tie  of  expence  wilbe  shortned,  by  reason  of  the 
priuacie  of  the  house,  where  I  propose  to  Hue  recluse,  till 
Time  contract  me  to  some  other  calling,  striuing  now  with 
my  self  (retayning  vpright  thoughts)  both  sparingly  to  Hue, 
and  thereby  to  shun  the  current  of  expence.  This  is  my  desire 
(which  I  entreat  may  be  performd)  that  Mr.  Adrian  Morrus, 
bookseller  of  the  black  fryers,  maye  be  payd  ten  pounds  as 
heretofore,  and  to  take  his  acquittance.  Trusting  whereto, 
He  terminate  your  sight,  and  end ;  hoping  to  see  your  dayes 
many  and  good ;  and  prosperitie  to  crown  your  self  and 
issue.  "  Euer  seruiceable 

"  to  your  Virtues, 

"  R.  HEARICK." 

It  rouses  one  to  remember  that  to  the  guardian-uncle 
to  whom  these  letters  were  addressed,  an  additional 
quarterly  allowance  to  his  nephew  would  have  been  as 
nothing.  But  he  was  adding  broad  acre  to  broad  acre, 
and  ambitious  to  found  a  family  away  down  in  ances- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixix. 

tral  Leicestershire.  That  in  his  land-hunger  (of  which 
the  greater  Sir  Walter  Scott  later  spoke  so  penitently ) 
he  was  not  over  scrupulous,  appears  by  this  damning 
record  in  the  MSS.  of  the  House  of  Lords  : 

"1640-1,  Jan.  15. — Petition  of  Elizabeth  Smyth,  the  poor 
distressed  widow  of  Christopher  Smyth,  deceased,  that 
Sir  William  Herrick  may  be  called  upon  to  answer  for 
detaining  from  her  a  certain  estate  in  the  county  of 
Leicester,  part  of  the  manor  of  Beaumanor,  to  which 
the  Court  of  Chancery  decreed  that  she  is  entitled."2 

From  the  indefiniteness  of  the  phrase  "till  Time 
shall  contract  me  to  some  other  calling  "  in  the  final 
letter  that  remains,  it  would  seem  that  the  proposed 
change  from  Divinity  to  Law  was  left  undetermined. 
The  only  further  record  of  him  at  the  University  is 
that  he  took  his  M.A  degree  in  1620,  signing  himself 
*  Robert  Hearick.'  In  this  year,  thereupon,  he  most 
probably  left  Cambridge.  As  he  was  not  a  Fellow,  it  is 
not  likely  that  he  would  continue  in  residence.  Be 
sides,  had  he  remained  and  *  taught',  there  must  have 
been  some  memorials  of  his  teaching  and  pupils. 
Certain  entries  found  by  Mr.  Riley  in  the  Steward's 
Book,  and  printed  in  the  Second  Report  of  the  Royal 

*  Fourth  Report  of  the  Royal  Commission  on  Historical  Manu 
scripts  :  Part  I.  Report  and  Appendix  :  p.  40. 


Ixx.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

Commission  on  Historical  Manuscripts  (pp.  121-123) 
have  been  too  hastily  assigned  to  our  Robert  Herrick. 
His  nephew — Robert  3rd  son  of  Sir  William  Herricke, 
who  was  "  baptized  the  viii.  day  of  February,  1598,"  at 
St.  Vedast's  Church,  Foster  Lane,  London,3  was  much 
more  probably  the  person  whose  indebtedness  to  his 
college  is  therein  recorded.  Extending  as  these 
entries  do  to  1629-30,  or  fully  nine  years  after  his 
M.A.  degree,  it  surely  bears  on  the  face  of  it,  that  it 
could  not  be  our  Robert,  and  on  the  other  hand,  it 
would  be  quite  in  keeping  with  the  Beaumanor  Knight's 
penuriousness  and  begrudging,  so  to  hamper  his  own 
son  as  to  compel  him  to  leave  there  a  small  debt, 
unliquidated.4 

3  From  the  Register  by  the  present  Rector,  as  before.     See  also 
Appendix  A  to  this  Memorial-Introduction. 

4  I  place  here  Mr.  Riley's  notes  : 

"A  small  memorandum  [among  Trinity  Hall  MSS.]  without  any 
date,  but  belonging,  no  doubt,  to  the  year  1630,  bearing  reference 
to  Robert  Herrick,  who  had  been  a  member  of  the  College,  (the 
well-known  author  of  the  "  Hesperides  ") — The  names  of  those  that 
are  to  be  sued.  Will.  Wake,  5^  i8s.  6d.  obol.  Thomas  Creake, 
besides  '  prae  manibus '  [a  name  apparently  given  to  caution- 
money]  deducted  4^  2s.  Jet.  Herricke  3^  *  prae  manibus '  being 
deducted,  7^  165.  gd.  The  Steward's  accounts  of  1629  and  30 
follow  shortly  after,  in  both  of  which  Herrick's  name  appears,  as 
debited  with  10/165.  yd.  against  it,  the  largest  sum  debited  against 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxi. 

A  study  of  the  facts,  leaves  the  impression  that  on 
closing  his  attendance  at  the  University  in  1620  (as 
supra)  Herrick — then  in  his  29th  year  —  came  to 
London,  with  his  future  uncertain,  but  ready  to  plunge 
into  all  the  gaieties  of  '  town.'  To  these  years — 
1620-28-9 — belong  (meo  judicio)  : — 

"  Those  Lyric  feasts 
Made  at  the  Sun, 
The  Dog,  the  Triple  Tun," 

any  one  in  the  list:  reference  will  again  be  found  made  toHerrick's 

name  in  the  sequel  (p.  122) "  Also  a  paper  book,  pamphlet 

form,  entitled — "  The  Steward  his  accompt  of  the  whole  Commons 
Booke,  the  3rd  of  October  1623."  In  this  book,  col.  2.  of  page  3, 
under  (tr.), — "  Names  of  those  who  were  in  College  on  the  3rd  day 
of  October  1623,  and  their  debts."  Herrick  is  named,  as  then 
owing  the  steward  575.  J(L  (p.  123).  I  must  add  to  what  is  said 
in  the  text,  that  had  these  entries  referred  to  our  Herrick,  I  should 
have  expected  that  he  would  be  called  '  Mr.  Herricke.'  Walford 
mistakenly  says  there  is  an  entry  of  indebtedness  at  Trinity  Hall  in 
1617  (p.  v).  There  is  no  such  entry.  The  earliest  is  1623,  and 
the  others  1630 — at  which  time  he  was  incumbent  of  Dean  Prior. 
Anthony  a- Wood  mistook  our  Herrick' s  cousin  Robert  for  him,  and 
so  entered  him  as  of  Oxford.  The  cousin  may  have  attended  both 
Universities — as  was  common — and  in  such  case  it  was  natural 
that  his  father  would  send  him  to  the  same  College  at  which  his 
nephew  had  attended.  Supra,  it  was  not  exactly  '  caution,'  nor 
even  earnest,  but  so  much  being  already  paid.  Be  it  also  noted 
that  the  £']  i6s.  Qd.  and  £3  make  up  the  same  amount  and  debt 
as  before — viz.,  jfcio  i6s.  9d. 


Ixxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

of  which  he  sang  so  proudly.  To  them  also  belong  the 
still  more  boastful  reminiscences  of  his  "  Farewell  vnto 
Poetrie,"  as  thus  : — 


"  Wee  ....  haue  spent  our  tyme 


Both  from  the  morning  to  the  euening  chyme ; 
Nay,  till  the  bell-man  of  the  night  had  tould 
Past  noone  of  night,  yett  weare  the  howers  not  old, 
Nor  dull'd  with  yron  sleeps,  but  haue  out-worne 
The  fresh  and  fayrest  flourish  of  the  morne 
With  flame,  and  rapture ;  drincking  to  the  odd 
Number  of  wyne,  which  makes  vs  full  with  God, 
And  yn  that  misticke  frenzie,  wee  haue  hurl'de, 
(As  with  a  tempeste)  nature  through  the  worlde, 
And  yn  a  whirl-wynd  twirl'd  her  home,  agast 
Att  that  which  in  her  extasie  had  past." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  102.) 

Nor  may  we  doubt  that  his  "  Farewell  to  Sack  "  and 
"  Welcome  to  Sack  "  find  place  in  the  same  group. 

Be  it  noted  that  while  the  later  '  innes '  of  assembly, 
"  The  Sun,  the  Dog,  the  Triple  Tun"  are  celebrated, 
nowhere  is  the  earlier  "  Mermaid,"  or  "  Mitre,"  or  the 
after-frequented  "Windmill"  (1605)  so  much  as  named. 
Be  it  also  noted  that  it  would  have  simply  been  impos 
sible  for  Herrick  to  have  met  Shakespeare  at  "The  Mer 
maid"  and  not  have  recalled  the  meeting.  As  we  read  his 
"  Apparition  of  his  Mistresse  calling  him  to  Elysium  " 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxiii. 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  1 73-4)  with  its  lofty  praise  of  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher  and  Jonson,  we  instinctively  ask,  '  Where  is 
Shakespeare  all  this  time?'  But  by  1611 — at  latest- 
he  had  gone  down  to  Stratford-on-Avon,  and  our  Poet 
celebrates  only  the  contemporaries  he  actually  knew. 
Every  one  carries  in  his  memory  the  verse-letter  of 
Beaumont  to  Ben  Jonson  of  "  The  Mermaid  " : — 


What  things  have  we  seen 


Done  at  the  Mermaid  !  heard  words  that  have  been 

So  nimble  and  so  full  of  subtle  flame, 

As  if  that  any  one  from  whence  they  came 

Had  meant  to  put  his  whole  wit  in  a  jest, 

And  had  resolv'd  to  live  a  fool  the  rest 

Of  his  dull  life ;  then  when  there  hath  been  thrown 

Wit  able  enough  to  justify  the  town 

For  three  days  past ;  wit  that  might  warrant  be 

For  the  whole  city  to  talk  foolishly, 

Till  that  were  cancell'd  ;  and  when  that  was  gone, 

We  left  an  air  behind  us,  which  alone 

Was  able  to  make  the  two  next  companies 

(Right  witty,  though  but  downright  fools)  more  wise." 

But  these  days  were  early,  when  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
founded  '  The  Club,'  and  when  Herrick  was  much  too 
young  to  have  joined;  and  onward,  as  first  'appren 
tice  '  goldsmith,  and  next  at  College  in  (probably) 
1612-13,  he  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  found  his  way 


Ixxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

within  the  '  charmed  circle.'  Accordingly  I  am  not 
satisfied  that  because  he  refers  to  the  unfavourable 
reception  of  the  Alchemist,  which  was  brought  out  in 
1 6 10,  or  because  in  his  lines  to  John  Fletcher  he 
speaks  of  the  power  of  his  Maid's  Tragedy  (which  was 
produced  in  1611)  to  make  "young  men  swoon," 
he  knew  either  personally  so  early  as  1610-11.  But 
there  is  abundant  evidence  that  later  he  did  know  per- 
v  sonally  Ben  Jonson.  It  was,  however,  later — viz.,  from 
1620  forward.  When  the  Master  of  Arts,  in  1620, 
came  to  town,  the  purple  splendour  was  still  in  the  air 
if  not  in  the  sky,  though  the  sun  had  sunk  and  only 
stars  gleamed.  Besides  "  immortal  Ben,"  if  Shake 
speare  and  Francis  Beaumont  were  gone,  there  still 
remained  John  Fletcher  and  Philip  Massinger,  William 
Browne  and  Richard  Corbet,  James  Shirley  and  William 
Cartwright,  Thomas  Carew  and  venerable  John  Selden. 
I  can  very  well  believe  that,  bound  apprentice  to  his 
v  goldsmith-uncle  on  2 5th  September,  1607,  while  the 
Poet  of  the  "  mountain  belly  and  the  rocky  face  "  was 
bringing  out  his  Volpone,  and  Epicene,  and  Alchemist, 
and  Catiline,  and  at  "Whitehall,  and  the  "  Court,"  his 
unapproachable  Masques,  as  of  the  Masque  of  Queens 
and  Oberon,  the  Fairy  Prince — the  young  apprentice 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxv. 

paid  furtive  visits  to  the  theatres.5  His  "  Fairie 
Temple,"  and  "  Oberon's  Feast,"  and  others,  were 
written  early ;  and  therefore,  one  can  understand  with 
what  rotund  and  thundering  mouth  *  great  Ben  '  would 
give  their  conceiver  admittance  among  his  sons.  But 
whatever  slighter  acquaintance  there  may  have  been 
whilst  he  was  passing  out  of  his  teens,  the  likelihoods 
are  that — as  above — it  was  not  until  1620  that  he 
"  quaffed  the  mighty  bowl  "  and  mingled  in  those 
"brave  translunary  scenes."  Perchance  in  his  occa 
sional  visits  to  London  while  at  the  University  he  may 
have  looked  in  upon  the  great  compotators,  and  so 
paved  the  way  for  full  fellowship  on  leaving  it.  By 
1620  he  had  unquestionably  composed  some,  at  least, 
and  some  of  his  daintiest  Poems  (exclusive  of  the 
'  Fairy '  ones).  It  was  "  in  the  season?  that  is  in 
youth,  he  sang  : — 

"  Of  brooks,  of  blossomes,  buds  and  bowers 
Of  April,  May,  of  June  and  July  flowers  ;" 

and  so  he  could  carry  proof  of  his  poetic  vocation  to 
the  august  brethren.  With  Ben  Jonson  for  '  Master,' 

5  Volpone,  1605,  &c.,  published  1608 — shows  a  long  run: 
Epicene,  1609  :  Alchemist,  1 6 10:  Catiline,  161 1  :  Bartholomew 
Fair  not  till  1614. 


Ixxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

there  were  others  subsidiary.  I  think  it  is  manifest 
that  he  elected  his  subjects  and  formed  his  style  after 
CHRISTOPHER  MARLOWE  (in  his  sweeter  and  lowlier 
vein,  and  in  his  epithets),  ROBERT  GREENE,  and  JAMES 
SHIRLEY — exclusive  of  the  Classics.  The  first  in  his 
"  Come  live  with  me,  and  be  my  love,"  is  echoed  in 
his  rural  pieces.  Then  his  favourite  vocabulary  of 
dews  and  nard,  wine  and  ambrosia,  amber  and  flames, 
and  spices,  white  brows,  golden  hair,  cherry  lips,  eyes 
that  brighten,  lily  cheeks,  '  silver  shine,'  kisses  and 
clasps,  maidens  and  virgins  and '  maidenheads,'  favourite 
flowers  as  roses,  lilies,  daisies  and  daffodils,  and  out-of- 
the-way  words  as  '  chequered '  and  l  diapered  '  and 
'  enamell'd  '  and  the  like,  are  all  found  in  Greene.  One 
could  imagine  it  was  from  the  Hesperides  such  things  as 
these  have  been  gathered  : — 

"  Her  hair  of  golden  hue  doth  dim  the  beames 
That  proud  Apollo  giveth  from  his  coach." 

(II.  215,  Dyce.) 

"  Her  lips  are  roses  over-wash'd  with  dew 
Or  like  the  purple  of  Narcissus*  flower."     (Ib.  p.  228.) 

"  Her  cheeks  like  ripen'd  lilies  steep'd  in  wine 

When  first  her  fair  delicious  cheeks  were  wrought, 
Aurora  brought  her  blush,  the  morn  her  white  ; 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxvii. 

Both  so  combin'd  as  passed  Nature's  thought, 
CompiFd  those  pretty  orbs  of  sweet  delight." 

(Ib.  p.  230.) 

"  Thine  eyes  are  likte  the  glow-worms  in  the  night." 

(It.  p.  232.) 

-  "  Enchanted  fits  of  lunacy."    (Ib.  p.  236.) 

"  Her  haire  as  Gorgon's  foul  retorting  snakes." 

(Ib.  p.  237.) 

"  As  air  perfum'd  with  amber  is  her  breath." 

"  Like  lilies  dipt  in  Bacchus'  choicest  wine."  (Ib.  p.  254.) 

"  Her  amber  trammels  did  my  heart  dismay." 

(Ib.  p.  254.) 

[Flora]     "  Curld  locks  of  amber  hair."  (Ib.  p.  243.) 

—  "  Her  mantle  chequer'd  all  with  gaudy  green." 

(Ib.  p.  26.) 

"  And  bade  my  lambs  to  feed  on  daffadil."  (Ib.  p.  284.) 
"  Behold  my  cell,  built  in  a  silent  shade."  (Ib.  p.  246.) 

Nor  is  it  only  in  single  words  and  turns  that  Greene  is 
inevitably  recalled.  His  "  Ode  "  and  "  The  Palmer's 
Ode  "  and  the  "  Penitent  Palmer's  Ode  "  have  the  very 
touch  of  Herrick's  '  Fairy '  poems  : — 

"  Down  the  valley  'gan  he  track 
Bag  and  bottle  at  his  back, 
In  a  surcoat  all  of  gray  : 
Such  wear  palmers  on  the  way, 


Ixxviii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


When  with  scrip  and  staff  they  see 

Jesus5  grave  on  Calvary."  (Ib.  p.  243.) 

Again,  in  Francesco's  Ode  are  other  characteristics  : — 

"  Eyes  that  lighten,  and  do  shine 
Beams  of  love  that  are  divine, 
Lily  cheeks,  whereon  beside 
Buds  of  roses  show  their  pride, 
Cherry  lips,  which  did  speak, 
Words  that  made  all  hearts  to  break, 
Words  most  sweet,  for  breathe  was  sweet, 
Such  perfume  for  loue  is  meet, 
Precious  words,  as  hard  to  tell 
Which  more  pleased,  wit  or  smell."     (Ib.  p.  249.) 

Once  more,  Infida's  Song  : — 

"  Thy  face  as  fair  as  Paphos'  brooks, — 
Wherein  fancy  baits  her  hooks. 
Thy  cheeks  like  cherries  that  do  grow 
Amongst  the  autumn  mounts  of  snow  ; 
Thy  lips  vermilion  full  of  loue, 
Thy  neck  of  siluer  white  as  doue, 
Thine  eyes,  like  flames  of  holy  fires 
Burn  all  my  thoughts  with  sweet  desires/* 

(Ib.  pp.  252-3.) 

Further  :— 

"  White  her  brow,  her  face  was  fair 
Amber  breath  perfum'd  the  air ; 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxix. 

Rose  and  lily  both  did  seek 

To  show  their  glories  on  her  cheek  : 

Love  did  nestle  in  her  looks 

Baiting  there  her  sharpest  hooks  ; 

Gold  her  hair,  bright  her  eyne, 

Like  to  Phoebus  in  his  shine."       (Ib.  p.  299.) 

And  here,  as  already  noticed,  is  an  odd  but  recurring 
word  of  Herrick  : — 

"  Meads  that  erst  with  green  were  spread 
With  choice  flowers  diap'red."          (Ib.  p.  302.) 

Herrick's  "  Charon  and  the  Nightingale  "  (II.  224)  and 
"  The  New  Charon"  (III.  no)  were  certainly  inspired 
by  Greene's  "  Eurymachus'  Fancy  in  the  prime  of  his 
Affection,"  and  it  is  only  fair  to  the  earlier  singer  to 
give  here  this  more  complete  example  of  him  : — 

"  As  thus  I  sat,  disdaining  of  proud  love, 

Have  over,  ferryman,  there  cried  a  boy ; 

And  with  him  was  a  paragon  for  hue, 

A  lovely  damsel,  beauteous  and  coy ; 

And  there 

With  her 

A  maiden,  cover'd  with  a  tawny  veil, 
Her  face  unseen  for  breeding  lovers  bale. 
I  stirr'd  my  boat,  and  when  I  came  to  shore, 
The  boy  was  wing'd  ;  methought  it  was  a  wonder; 
The  dame  had  eyes  like  lightning,  or  the  flash 
That  runs  before  the  hot  report  of  thunder ; 


Ixxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Her  smiles 

Were  sweet, 

Lovely  her  face  ;  was  ne'er  so  fair  a  creature, 
For  earthly  carcass  had  a  heavenly  feature. 
My  friend,  quoth  she,  sweet  ferryman,  behold, 
We  three  must  pass,  but  not  a  farthing  fare  ; 
But  I  will  give,  for  I  am  Queen  of  Love, 
The  brightest  lass  thou  lik'st  unto  thy  share  ; 

Choose  where 

Thou  lov'st, 

Be  she  as  fair  as  Love's  sweet  lady  is, 
She  shall  be  thine,  if  that  will  be  thy  bliss. 
With  that  she  smil'd  with  such  a  pleasing  face 
As  might  have  made  the  marble  rock  relent ; 
And  I  that  triumph'd  in  disdain  of  love, 
Bad  fie  on  him  that  to  fond  love  was  bent, 

And  then 

Said  thus, 

So  light  the  ferryman,  for  love  doth  care, 
As  Venus  pass  not,  if  she  pay  no  fare. 
At  this  a  frown  sat  on  her  angry  brow  ; 
She  winks  upon  her  wanton  son  hard  by, 
He  from  a  quiver  drew  a  bolt  of  fire, 
And  aim'd  so  right  as  that  he  pierc'd  mine  eye ; 

And  then 

Did  she 

Draw  down  the  veil  that  hid  the  virgin's  face, 
Whose  lovely  beauty  lighten'd  all  the  place." 

(pp.  259-60,  as  before.) 

The  closing  line  is  worthy  of  Spenser,  and  there  is 
nothing  finer  in  the  Hesperides. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxi. 

James  Shirley's  "  Poems  "  published  in  1646  had  long 
circulated  in  MS.,  and  I  find  the  original  of  Herrick's 
Julia  in  his  Odelia,  and  in  his  "  To  L.  for  a  Wreath  of 
Bays  sent  him,"  I  discern  the  prototype  of  his  "  Wel 
come  to  Sack,"  and  ever  and  anon  peculiar  ways  of 
putting  things  and  celebrations  of  feminine  graces, 
that  Herrick  must  have  seen.  Of  Shirley  I  can  find 
space  only  for  a  single  quotation.  It  reminds  us  in 
parts  of  Herrick's  "Welcome  to  Sack"  (I.  133)  and  * 
"Farewell  to  Sack"  (I.  76),  and  also  of  his  Lines  "To 
Mistresse  Katharine  Bradshaw,  the  lovely,  that  crowned 
him  with  Laurel"  (1.163).  There  is  much  of  their 
abandon  and  ecstatic  fancies  : 

To  L.for  a  Wreath  of  Bays  sent  him. 
"  Soul  of  my  Muse,  what  active  unknown  fire 
Already  doth  thy  Delphick  wreath  inspire  ! 
O'  th'  sudden,  how  my  faculties  swell  high, 
And  I  am  all  a  powerful  prophesy  ! 
Sleep,  ye  dull  Csesars,  Rome  will  boast  in  vain 
Your  glorious  triumphs ;  one  is  in  my  brain 
Great  as  all  yours  ;  and  circled  with  thy  bays, 
My  thoughts  take  empire  o'er  all  land  and  seas  : 
Proof  against  all  the  planets,  and  the  stroke 
Of  thunder,  I  rise  up  Augustus'  oak, 
Within  my  guard  of  laurel,  and  made  free 
From  age,  look  fresh  still  as  my  Daphnean  tree. 

f 


Ixxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


My  fancy's  narrow  yet,  till  I  create 

For  thee  another  world,  and  in  a  state 

As  free  as  innocence,  shame  all  poets  and  wit, 

To  climb  no  higher  than  Elysium  yet, 

Where  the  pale  lovers  meet,  and  teach  the  groves 

To  sigh,  and  sing  vain  legends  of  their  loves  ; 

We  will  have  other  flights,  and  taste  such  things 

Are  only  fit  for  sainted  queens  and  kings. 

Musaeus,  Homer  and  ye  sacred  rest 

Long  since  believ'd  in  yr  own  ashes  blest, 

Awake,  and  live  again  !  and  having  wrote 

One  story,  wish  your  songs  forgot, 

And  yourselves  too  :  but  one  high  subject  must 

In  spite  of  death  and  time,  new  soul  yr  dust. 

What  cannot  I  command  I  what  can  a  thought 

Be  now  ambitious  of,  but  still  be  brought 

By  virtue  of  my  charm  ?  I  will  undo 

The  year,  and  at  my  pleasure  make  one  new, 

All  spring,  whose  blooming  paradise  but  when 

I  list,  shall  with  one  frown  wither  again. 

Astrologers,  leave  searching  the  vast  skies  : 

Teach  them  all  fate,  O  Delia,  from  thine  eyes ; 

All  that  was  earth  resolves  my  spirits  free, 

I  have  nothing  left  now  but  my  soul  and  thee." 

(Works  by  Gifford  &  Dyce,  vi.,  pp.  413-14.) 

I  cannot  doubt  that  besides  those  named,  he  had 
studied  Barnabe  Barnes  and  Richard  Barnfield  and  other 
of  the  early  Singers.  With  an  absolute  and  unique 
originality  Herrick,  nevertheless,  reveals  that,  Bee-like, 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          Ixxxiii. 

he  gathered  his  honey  from  many  flowers.  Yet  was 
it  his  boast  that  anything  he  took  was  '  adopted,  not 
stolen,'  as  thus  : — 

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  lawfull  plate) 

And  no  Verse  illegitimate."     (Vol.  II.  p.  223.) 

He  had  been  a  Poet  at  Cambridge,  and  came  to 
'  town '  all  ringing  with  his  poetic  readings  and  his 
own  fine  imaginings.  It  was  something  that  there 
were  still  surviving  so  many  who  could  appreciate  his 
rare  gift.6 

During  the  year  1620  onward,  it  is  just  possible  that 

6  I  wish  here  to  express  my  admiration  for  a  brilliant  paper  on 
Robert  Herrick,  by  Mr.  Edmund  W.  Gosse,  which  appeared  in 
Comhill  (August,  1875).  I  am  unlucky  enough  to  be  compelled 
to  express  and  vindicate  differences  (as  above  and  onward)  in 
several  important  points  of  fact,  and  likewise  in  criticism ;  but 
none  the  less  do  I  appreciate  the  fine  spirit  of  the  paper,  and  its 
finished  workmanship.  Besides,  Mr.  Gosse  was  really  the  first  to 
write  in  full  sympathy  with  Herrick's  genius,  and  to  try  to  indi 
cate  (if  not  always  accurately)  his  reading.  See  II.  Critical, 
for  remarks  on  Mr.  Gosse's  conception  (eheu !  misconception)  of 
Herrick  in  relation  to  the  events  and  circumstances  of  the  period, 
and  other  matters. 


Ixxxiv.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

through  his  uncle  he  was  received  at  Court.  His 
later  royal  poems  "  sung  at  Whitehall "  and  his  usual 
language  to  the  King  and  Queen,  suggest  that  he  had 
been  for  years  known  to  them,  if  certain  also  suggest  that 
he  met  with  inevitable  courtly  disappointments — as 
George  Herbert  too  had  to  confess.  The  only  really 
dated  poem  is  his  rendering  of  the  "  Dialogue  betwixt 
Horace  and  Lydia,"  which  is  inscribed  "  Translated 
anno  1627,"  and  "  set  by  Mr.  Ro.  Ramsey."  To  have 
found  such  a  distinguished  composer  as  Ramsey  to 
'  set '  his  verses,  is  surely  declarative  of  a  position 
already  gained ;  for  Ramsey,  and  Laniere,  and  Wilson, 
and  the  Lawes' — all  of  whom  '  set '  his  poems — moved 
in  the  Court  and  among  the  "  Upper  Ten." 

In  1629  two  important  events  in  Herrick's  life  took 
place.  The  first — hitherto  unascertained  —  was  the 
death  of  his  mother.  I  am  able  to  give  here,  for 
the  first  time,  her  Will,  which  is  again  literatim,  as 
follows  : — 

"In  the  name  of  God,  Amen,  I,  Julian  Hirricke  of  Branta, 
in  the  Countie  of  Suff.,  Gent.,  being  in  perfect  memorie, 
(thankes  bee  vnto  God)  yet  remembringe  the  vncertainty 
of  this  life,  doe  make  my  last  will  and  Testament  in  forme 
following,  ffirst  I  bequeath  my  soule  vnto  God  my  mercifull 
ftather,  And  my  bodie  to  to  bee  buried  at  the  place  of  my 
departure.  Impr.  I  will  &  bequeath  to  my  daughter  Wing- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  Ixxxv. 

feild  one  hundred  pounds.  Item  to  my  sonne  Wingfield, 
Twenty  pounds.  It.  to  my  Grandchild  Mercy  Wingfield, 
fiftie  pounds.  It.  to  theire  sonne,  Humphrey  Wingfeld, 
Twentie  pounds.  It.  to  their  sonne,  John,  Tenne  pounds, 
and  to  theire  sonne,  Willm,  ten  pounds.  It.  to  my  sonne,  \ 
Willm  Herricke,  one  hundred  pounds ;  and  to  his  two 
children,  ten  pounds  apeece.  To  my  Goddaughter,  Ellis, 
my  lesser  Cutt  worke  handkerchiefe.  To  his  wife,  a  Ringe 
of  Twenty  shillings.  To  my  two  sonnes,  Nicholas  and  \l 
Robert,  either  of  them  a  Ringe  of  Twenty  shillings  apeece.  j 
To  my  sonne  Willm,  his  wife,  a  Ringe  of  Twenty  shillings. 
It.  to  Dr.  Jones,  fortie  shillings.  It.  to  Mr.  Herdson,  three 
pounds ;  to  his  wife,  my  saddle  and  cloth.  Item  to  Mr. 
Cauldred,  a  Ringe  of  Twenty  shillings.  Item  to  Charls 
Cutler,  Twenty  shillings.  To  Laurence  Crick,  Twenty 
shillings.  To  mine  owne  maide,  Twenty  shillings,  besides 
her  wages.  It.  to  An  Tomson,  twenty  shillings.  To 
Humph  :  Huggins,  Twenty  shillings.  It.  to  Nurse  Lawter, 
Twenty  shillings.  To  the  Coachma,  tenne  shillings.  It. 
to  the  boye  in  the  Kitchin,  Ten  shillings.  To  the  maides 
now  in  the  house,  ten  shillings  apeece.  To  the  poore  of 
Branta,  fortie  shillings.  All  the  rest  of  my  goods  now  at 
Branta  I  bequeath  to  my  daughter  Wingfeld,  the  siluer 
skillet  and  plate,  after  her  decease,  to  Mercy,  her  daughter. 
And  I  doe  appoint  my  sonne  Willm  and  my  daughter 
Wingfeld  my  Executors,  and  my  sonne  Wingfeld  supra- 
uisor  of  this  my  last  Will.  In  witnes  whereof  I  haue  here- 
vnto  set  my  scale  the  fewer  and  Twentieth  of  August,  One 
thousand  six  hundred  twenty  nine,  Julian  Hirricke. 

"  Sealed  and  deliuered  in  the  presence  of  Ro :  Grimble, 


Ixxxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

John    Rand.  —  Nowe    Lord  letst   thie   Servant  depart   in 
peace."7 

Recorded  in  Book  "  Ridley  "  at  folio  97. 

This  Will  was  proved  in  the  Prerogative  Court  of 
Canterbury  5th  November,  1629,  by  William  Herricke 
(not  Hirricke  or  Hiricke  as  the  mother  spelled)  the  son 
and  Mary  Wingfield  the  daughter  of  the  testatrix,  the 
executors  named  by  her.  So  that  she  probably  died 
shortly  after  making  these  arrangements.  That  she 
came  to  be  resident  at  Brantham  in  Suffolk,  is  explained 
by  her  daughter  '  Mercie '  having  married  there.  Un 
fortunately  the  Register  of  Brantham  does  not  com 
mence  until  1634  ;  but  until  comparatively  recent 
years  Wingfields  are  found  in  the  register  and  Parish. 
All  that  Robert  and  his  elder  brother  Nicholas  received 
was  "  a  ringe  of  twenty  shillings  "  apiece.  Sir  William 
Herrick  does  not  get  even  a  '  ringe ' — a  suggestive 
omission  in  the  remembrance  that  he  had  been  one  of 
the  two  "chief  overseers."  The  solitary  reference 
to  his  mother  does  not  indicate  any  very  warm  re 
gard  ;  and  it  is  noticeable  that  he  who  wrote  Epi 
taphs  so  incomparably  for  so  many,  left  none  for 
her,  neither  aught  of  memorial-verse. 

7  Obtained  through  Colonel  Chester,  as  before. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         Ixxxvii. 


The  second  event  of  the  year  1629  is  his  taking 
orders,  and  his  presentation  to  the  '  living '  of  Dean 
Prior  in  Devon.  I  know  not  on  what  authority  it  has 
been  stated  that  it  was  through  the  (then)  Earl  of  Exeter 
the  'presentation'  was  obtained.  The  fact  is  that  the 
vicar  of  Dean  Prior, — Potter — several  of  whose  family 
find  a  place  in  Hesperides  —  being  promoted  to  the 
bishopric  of  Carlisle,  he  was  admitted  thereto  on  2nd 
October,  1629.  What  bishop  gave  him  'orders'  has 
not  been  transmitted.  From  his  Lines  to  Williams 
Bishop  of  Lincoln  on  his  imprisonment,  one  might 
suspect  that  he  had  thrown  obstacles  in  the  way  of 
his  ordination.  But  it  may  be  that  the  felt  injury  was 
neglect  or  even  flouting  by  that  most  astute  but  unpo- 
etical  dignitary,  of  the  earlier  "  Charoll,"  which  the  Poet 
had  sent  him.  Nor  have  we  any  light  on  the  long 
delay  from  1620  to  (apparently)  1629,  that  is  until 
nearly  his  40th  year,  in  seeking,  or  at  least  being  made 
'  priest.'  His  motif  for  seeking  ordination  was  at  any 
rate  not  mercenary,  or  for  "a  piece  of  bread."  He 
asserts  this  unmistakably  in  his  impassioned  "  Farewell 
vnto  Poetrie,"  as  thus  : — 


-"'TVs  not  need 


(The  skarcrow  vnto  mankinde)  that  doth  breed 


Ixxxviii.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Wiser  conclusions  in  mee,  since  I  knowe 

I've  more  to  beare  my  chardges,  then  way  to  goe  ; 

Or  had  I  not,  I'de  stopp  the  spreading  itch 

Off  craueing  more  :  soe  yn  conceipt  bee  ritch  ; 

But  tis  the  god  of  nature  ivho  yntends, 

And  shaps  my  function  for  more  glorious  ends  : " 

To-day  a  more  charming  portion  of  the  great  Vine 
yard  (to  fitly  appropriate  Bible  language)  than  Dean 
Prior  is  scarcely  conceivable.  Leaving  Brent — a 
station  on  the  South  Devon  Railway,  about  16  miles 
from  Plymouth, — you  take  the  road  in  a  north-easterly 
direction,  passing  just  below  the  edge  of  the  moor. 
The  road  is  not  particularly  beautiful  or  interesting,  but 
you  get  glimpses  of  the  hills  sometimes  on  your  left, 
and  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Brent  there  are  a  few  old 
cottages,  and  then  the  road  passes  through  a  fordable 
stream  by  a  clump  of  trees,  and  from  a  little  stone 
bridge  for  foot  passengers  that  they  call  in  Devonshire 
a  clam,  you  look  over  the  hedge  to  your  right  upon 
rich  meadows,  well  backed  with  wood.  Another  mile 
and  you  come  to  the  narrow  lane  on  the  right  which 
leads  down  to  Dean  Church,  i.e.  the  Church  and  vicarage 
and  a  small  farm-house  and  a  few  cottages  clustered 
round  them.  The  Church  town  as  it  is  called  in  Devon 
and  Cornwall,  lies  in  a  small  but  deep  valley.  Look- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          Ixxxix. 

ing  down  upon  them  from  the  high  road,  the  church 
and  houses  seem  sunk  among  the  trees.  The  trees 
now  standing  are  all  of  recent  growth,  but  from  the 
sheltered  situation  of  the  little  valley,  it  was  probably 
always  well  wooded.  About  a  mile  further  on  is  Dean 
Prior,  another  little  hamlet,  close  to  which  stands  Dean 
Court,  now  a  farm,  but  anciently  a  great  manor-house. 
In  Herrick's  time  it  was  beautified  by  Sir  Edward 
Giles,  the  lord  of  the  manor,  who  left  his  family-seat  at 
Bowden  near  Totness,  and  came  thither  to  reside  a  few 
years  before  his  death  in  1637.  Close  to  this  hamlet 
of  Dean  Prior — (which  en  passant  gets  its  name  from 
the  manor  having  been,  up  to  the  Reformation,  the 
property  of  the  Priory  of  Plympton)  the  little  river 
Dean  flows  down  to  join  the  Dart  near  Buckfastleigh, 
a  market-town  a  mile  further  on  the  road  to  Ashburton. 
The  stream  flows  from  the  moor  through  one  of  the 
coombs,  or  deep  and  wooded  valleys  which  abound  on 
the  borders  of  Dartmoor.  Like  all  Devonshire  streams 
it  has  a  rocky  bed.  The  wood  through  which  it 
bickers  is  called  Deany  Wood,  and  just  above  the  wood 
is  another  little  hamlet  called  Dean  Combe.  These 
three  hamlets,  Dean  Combe,  Dean  Prior  and  Dean 
Church,  all  within  the  parish  of  Dean,  form  as  it  were 
the  points  of  a  triangle,  of  which  each  side  is  about 


xc.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

three-quarters  of  a  mile  in  length.  The  parish  contains 
4,165  acres,  and  in  1871  the  population  was  400,  the 
number  of  people  having  diminished  since  the  begin 
ning  of  the  present  century,  and  being  probably  less 
than  it  was  in  Herrick's  time.  According  to  the  Clergy 
List  the  tythe-rent  charge  is  now  about  ^230  a  year 
with  93  acres  of  glebe.  The  old  manor-house — Dean 
Court — was  the  only  great  house  in  the  parish.  From 
Sir  Edward  Giles,  who  enlarged  the  house  and  made  a 
park,  and  apparently  kept  up  some  state  there,  it 
passed  into  the  family  of  Yarde,  and  from  them — long 
after  Herrick's  death — by  marriage,  to  the  Bullers. 
Lord  Churston,  the  present  head  of  the  Buller  family, 
is  now  lord  of  the  manor,  but  Dean  Court  is  shorn  of 
its  grandeur,  and  is  now  an  ordinary  farm-house,  with 
but  few  remains  of  its  ancient  dignity. 

Two  centuries  and  a  half  ago  Dean  Prior  was  remote 
from  literary  society,  and  its  parishioners  not  very 
capable  of  giving  intellectual  sympathy  to  their  Vicar. 
The  change  from  London  to  "  dull  Devonshire  "  and 
the  "  loathed  West "  to  such  a  sociable  and  erewhile 
pleasure-taking  nature  must  have  been  in  Dominie 
Sampson's  exclamation — prodigious  !  The  links  that 
bound  him  to  the  great  Metropolis  were  not  easily 
severed.  From  his  "  loopholes  of  retreat"  he  looked 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xci. 

thitherward.  Within  a  few  months  of  his  settlement 
he  wrote  "  A  Pastoral  upon  the  Birth  of  Prince 
Charles,"  afterwards  Charles  II.,  and  it  is  headed, 
"Presented  to  the  King,"  (Charles  I.)  "and  set  by 
Mr.  Nic.  Laniere."  Three  years  onward — 1633 — he 
similarly  greeted  another  royal  birth,  entitling  his  poem, 
"  The  Poet's  Good  Wishes  for  the  most  hopeful  and 
handsome  prince,  the  Duke  of  York,"  afterwards 
James  II.  Later  still,  sick-at-heart,  through  hope  long 
deferred  (I  fear)  he  thus  addressed  his  Muse  on  send 
ing  (as  seems  likely)  a  copy  of  Hesperides  : 

"  Go  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  loue  the  man 
Who  by  the  shepherds,  sung  long  since 
The  starre-led  birth  of  Charles  the  Prince." 

namely  his  "  Pastorall." 

Thus  was  it  continuously,  on  through  the  troublous 
and  dolorous  years  of  conflict  between  Kingdom  and 
King.  That  he  cultivated  his  gift  as  a  Poet  in  Devon 
shire  is  certain,  albeit  Hesperides  in  its  order  or  dis-  / 
order  violates  all  chronology  and  makes  it  impossible 
to  date  earlier  and  later  except  occasionally.  So  far  as 
I  have  been  able  to  trace,  his  first  appearance  in  print 


xcii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

was  the  anonymous  publication  of  fragments  of  his 
"  Fairy  "  poems — so  imperfect  as  to  suggest  that  they 
had  been  surreptitiously  obtained.  This  was  in  1635, 
in  a  delicious  little  booklet  called,  "  A  Description  of 
the  King  and  Queene  of  Fayries,  their  habit,  fare,  their 
abode,  pompe  and  state.  Beeing  very  delightfull  to  the 
sense,  and  full  of  mirth."8  Ben  Jonson's  death  took 
place  on  6th  of  August,  i6379;  but  Herrick  did  not 
contribute  to  "  lonsonus  Virbivs "  (1638).  Within 
the  next  few  years  he  must  have  been  well  known  as  a 
Poet  j  for  when  in  1640  there  came  out  "  Wit's  Recrea 
tions  "  there  were  included  in  it  no  fewer  than  62  of  the 
poems  contained  in  Hesperides  afterwards,  and  one 
("Description  of  a  Woman")  not  reprinted  therein. 
In  common  with  the  entire  collection,  these  are  all 
without  name  or  even  initials  ;  but  they  establish  their 
authoritative  publication  by  the  author's  own  most 
careful  revision  and  reproduction  of  them  subsequently.1 
It  is  noticeable  that  so  much  from  him  should  have 
found  place  in  a  book  that  was  the  first  to  bring  to- 

8  This  will  likely  be  reproduced  as  one  of  my  "  Occasional 
Issues." 

9  It  is  usually  said  to  have  been  i6th  August.     Whether  it  was 
old  or  new  style  I  am  not  aware.     If  new  style  it  would  be  = 
1 8th  August. 

1  See  II.  Critical  for  more  on  "  Wit's  Recreations." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xciii. 

gether — sadly  intermixed,  no  doubt — some  of  the  most 
choice  pieces  of  the  greater  poets  and  a  few  originals, 
as  of  Richard  Crashaw's  immortal  "  Wishes,"  if  some 
what  poorly  given.  The  probabilities  are  that  he  came 
and  went  between  Devonshire  and  London.  The 
provincial  Winters  could  not  but  be  dull  and  lonely ; 
and  for  the  elder  generation  of  his  poetic  contem 
poraries  there  were  rising  into  notice  Carew  and 
Lovelace,  Denham  and  Suckling,  and  Charles  Cotton, 
with  all  of  whom  he  formed  friendships  apparently. 

Of  his  life  as  a  clergyman — except  in  the  lights  and 
shadows  of  touching  memorial  and  '  epitaph '  verses 
beyond  all  Greek  and  Roman  exquisiteness,  and 
marriage  greetings  comparable  with  Catullus  at  his 
best,  and  stinging  and  rough  epigrams  hitting  off  his 
parishioners  emulative  of  Martial  at  his  worst,  in  Hes- 
perides — we  know  very  little.  That  he  entered  on  his 
office  with  a  real  sense  of  new  responsibilities,  and  that 
he  was  resolved  to  be  delivered  from  all  that  would 
hinder  his  consecration  to  its  manifold  duties,  is  certain. 
This  indeed  is  made  to  stand  out  very  definitely,  in  a 
sense,  awfully — though,  strange  to  say,  it  has  escaped 
all  his  Biographers.  Among  the  Ashmolean  MSS.  a 
little  poem — complete  in  itself,  and  not  a  fragment — is 
informed  with  a  passion  and  has  over  it  a  shadow  of 


xciv.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

solemnity  most  unusual  to  Herrick,  and  declarative  of  a 
resolute  breaking  off  from  earlier  entanglements  and 
self-indulgences,  and  a  profound  sense  of  being  now  a 
'  priest  of  the  Most  High  God,'  and  so  set  apart  for 
holy  and  celestial  work.  We  know  that  he  remained 
unmarried ;  and  hence  there  was  reality  in  the  "  Fare 
well  "  of  this  remarkable  poem.  Let  us  study  it, 
meditatively : — 

"  Vpon  Parting. 

Goe  hence  away,  and  in  thy  parting  know 
'Tis  not  my  voice,  but  heauens  that  bidds  thee  goe ; 
Spring  hence  thy  faith,  nor  thinke  it  ill  desart 
I  finde  in  thee,  that  makes  me  thus  to  part. 
But  voice  of  fame,  and  voice  of  heauen  haue  thunderd 
We  both  were  lost,  if  both  of  us  not  sunderd  : 
Fould  now  thine  armes,  and  in  thy  last  looke  reare 
One  Sighe  of  loue,  and  coole  it  with  a  teare  : 
Since  part  we  must,  let's  kisse ;  that  done,  retire 
With  as  cold  frost,  as  erst  we  mett  with  fire; 
With  such  white  vowes  as  fate  can  nere  dissever, 
But  truth  knitt  fast ;  and  so  farewell  for  euer." 

Vol.  III.  p.  109. 

It  needs  no  italicizing  or  capitals  to  arrest  attention  to 
the  significance  of  these  words  : — 

"  Voice  of  fame  and  voice  of  heauen  have  thunderd 
We  both  were  lost,  if  both  of  us  not  sunderd  : 

and  so  farewell  for  euer." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xcv. 

There  was  probably  folded  up  in  this  "  Parting "  such 
unsuspected  struggle  and  conquest  as  similarly  unsus 
pected,  went  on  with  Phineas  Fletcher.2  Even  his 
Muse  was  to  be  forsaken,  as  his  equally  striking  and 
memorable  "  Farwell  vnto  Poetrie  "  remains  to  attest — 
although  it  proved  a  mere  mood,  not  an  irreversible  or 
unreversed  decision  ;  or  rather,  henceforward  he  would 
1  sing  '  his  "  Noble  Numbers  "  rather  than  add  to 
"  Hesperides."  Will  the  Reader  tarry  at  this  point  to 
read  and  re-read  this  "  Farwell  "  (Vol.  III.,  pp.  101-6), 
or  at  least  the  italicized  lines  in  these  two  brief  quota 
tions  from  it : — 

—  "  Vnto  mee,  bee  onlye  hoarse,  since  now 
(Heauen  and  my  soule  beare  record  of  my  -vowe) 
/,  my  desires  screw  from  thee,  and  directe 
Them  and  my  thoughts  to  that  sublimed  respecte 
And  conscience  imto  priesthood."  (p.  104.) 

Then  thus  of  higher  aims  in  his  after-verse  : — 

"  Thus  with  a  kisse  of  warmth,  and  loue,  I  parte 
Not  soe,  but  that  some  r clique yn  my  harte 
Shall  stand  for  euer,  though  I  doe  addresse 
Chiefelye  my  selfe  to  what  I  must  proffess  : 
Knowe  yet  (rare  soule)  when  my  diuiner  muse 
Shall  want  a  hand-mayde  (as  she  ofte  will  vse) 

2  See  my  Memoir  of  Phineas  Fletcher,  F.  W.  Library  edition  of 
his  Works. 


xcvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Bee  readye,  thou  for  mee,  to  ivayte  vppon  her, 
Thoughe  as  a  seruant,  yet  a  tnayde  of  honor. 
The  crowne  of  dutye  is  our  dutye  :  well 
Doing's,  the  fruite  of  doinge  well.     Farewell." 

(P.  106.) 

Swift's  and  Sterne's  Sermons  remain  to  witness  how 
they  could  and  actually  did  preach — to  the  confusion  of 
all  theories  and  preconceptions  about  them,  for  where 
do  you  find  of  their  kind,  better  ?  We  have  not  this 
advantage  in  the  case  of  Herrick.  Anthony  a-Wood 
characterizes  his  Sermons  as  "  florid  and  witty  [=wise] 
discourses,"  but  he  shews  himself  ill-informed  on  him 
in  several  ways.  He  states,  too,  that  he  was  much 
"  beloved  by  the  neighbouring  gentry."  A  late 
tradition,  from  the  mouth  of  the  "oldest  inhabitant," 
aged  99,  one  Dorothy  King,  informs  us  that  "he 
one  day  threw  his  sermon  at  his  congregation,  cursing 
them  for  their  inattention."3  It  has  been  said  of 
Sterne's  portrait  that  it  looks  as  if  he  were  going  to 
fling  his  wig  at  his  auditors.  He  had  too  keen  a 
sense  of  the  ridiculous  to  have  run  such  a  grotesque 
risk ;  but  somehow  one  does  not  feel  it  incongruous  if 
Herrick  did  what  venerable  Dorothy  recalled.  She 
shewed  that  her  old  Vicar's  memory  was  dear  to  her 

3  Quarterly  Review  :  Mr.  Barren  Field,  as  before. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xcvii. 

by  regularly  using  stray  verses  of  his  "  Letanie  "  in 
bed   o'  nights  and   preserving   in  her  memory  other 
lines.4     I  suspect  that  not  in  the  pulpit,  but  as  a  free 
and  easy  associate  with  the  "  neighbouring  gentry,"  , 
and   his    humblest    parishioners    in    their    joys    and 
sorrows,  amusements  and  superstitions,  did  the  Vicar 
exercise  influence.     From  his  repeated  self-portraitures 
and    descriptions    of   his   *  cell  '   (as   he    called   his 
Vicarage)  it  is  abundantly  manifest  that  if  there  were   .' 
high  thinking,  his  ordinary  living  was  homely.     His 
one   house-keeper  and   servant,  *  Prue/  or  Prudence  ,. 
Baldwin,  lives  "  for  all  time  "  in  Hesperides.     His  spa 
niel  '  Tracy'  takes  its  place  beside  Cowper's  and  Scott's. 
One  other  pet  he  has  not  celebrated.     Dame  Dorothy 
King  distinctly  remembered  that  he  had  a  "  favourite   % 
pig,  which  he  amused  himself  by  teaching  to  drink  out     ^ 
of  a  tankard."    This  latter  *  favourite '  has  been  re 
peated  in  our  own  day  in  a  *  parson  '  of  equal  unique 
ness  of  character  and  almost  equal  poetic  genius — the 
Vicar  of    Morwenstow,    the    Rev.    Robert    Stephen 
Hawker,    M.A.,  of  whom   his   Biographer  (the  Rev. 
S.  Baring-Gould,  M.A.)  states  :  "  He  had  a  favourite 
rough  pony  which  he  rode,  and  a  black  pig  of  Berk- 


xcviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

shire  breed,  well  cared  for,  washed  and  curry-combed, 
which  ran  beside  him  when  he  went  out  for  walks  and 
paid  visits.  Indeed,  the  pig  followed  him  into  ladies' 
drawing-rooms,  not  always  to  their  satisfaction.  The 
pig  was  called  '  Gyp,'  and  was  intelligent  and  obedient. 
If  Mr.  Hawker  saw  that  those  whom  he  visited  were 
annoyed  at  the  intrusion  of  the  pig,  he  would  order  it 
out,  and  the  black  creature  shrunk  out  of  the  door, 
with  its  tail  out  of  curl."5  Elsewhere  (II.  Critical)  it 
will  be  amply  shown  that  the  Vicar  of  Dean  Prior  had 
a  deeper  vein  of  Christian  thoughtfulness  than  Hes- 
perides,  or  even  Noble  Numbers  hastily  read,  would  lead 
us  to  suppose.  There  will  be  found  also  a  striking 
undertone  of  melancholy.  Fundamentally,  it  will 
appear  that  no  misconception  is  more  absolute  than 
that  he  went  on  singing  his  jovial  lyrics  and  throwing 
off  his  light  fantastiques  of  verse  and  broad  epigrams 
while  the  most  disastrous  events  were  occurring  in  the 
nation.  A  thoughtful  study  of  Hesperides  reveals  him 
as  moved  in  the  deepest  of  him  by  every  element  of 
the  sorrowful  national  conflict,  and  that  his  gay  l  sing 
ing  '  was  long  prior  to  these  years.  There  was  gravity 
all  along  in  combination  with  his  jesting,  aye,  even 
when  what  was  "  not  convenient  "  fell  from  him. 

5  Page  20. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  xcix. 

From  1629  to  1647  he  continued  Vicar  of  Dean  • 
Prior.  Then  came  thundering  "  The  Revolution," 
with  Oliver  Cromwell's  truncheon  as  "  Lord  Protector," 
more  potential  than  kingly  sceptre  gripped  by  Charleses. 
John  Selden  was  Herrick's  friend  "  next  to  idolatry;  " 
but  Herrick  was  an  avowed  Royalist  and  *  Loyalist  '- 
that  is  to  the  King,  rather  than  to  the  Kingdom.  His 
*  Loyal '  poems  are  open-mouthed  in  his  avowal  of  the 
'  divine  right '  of  kings  to  '  govern,'  wrongly  or  rightly. 
There  are  memorable  bits  that  go  to  prove  he  saw  with 
tear-wet  eyes,  the  madness  of  Charles  I.  and  his  ad 
visers — saw  the  glory  paling  in  his  ideal  sovereignty — 
the  rainbow  vanishing"  in  a  drizzle  of  bodiless  rain  ; 
but  substantially  he  held  fast  by  the  old  anchor 
of  hereditary  monarchy  as  such.  As  a  consequence  he 
was  disloyal  to  the  Commonwealth  and  its  'government' 
— a  government  built  up,  if  as  augustly,  also  against  as 
great  odds  as  was  the  second  Temple  on  Mount  Zion. 
One  can  understand  the  chivalry  of  such  loyalty  ; 
especially  as  nowhere  is  there  a  ribald  or  even  tart 
word  against  the  Roundheads  or  Cromwell  personally  ; 
but  we  must  equally  comprehend  the  inevitableness  of 
the  Vicar's  removal.  "  Sober  and  learned  "  he  might 
or  might  not  be — as  John  Walker  in  his  folio  of  "  Suf 
ferings  of  the  Clergy  "  6  names  him  ;  but  then  one  true 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


to  the  powers  that  were,  in  every  parish,  was  a  neces 
sity.  And  so  Robert  Herrick  stepped  out,  and  good 
and  brave  and  venerable  JOHN  SYMS  stepped  in.  That 
it  was  unreluctantly  he  gave  way  is  loudly  proclaimed 
in  his  "Return  to  London" — all  palpitating  as  the 
poem  is  with  gladfulness  in  once  more  being  back  in 
his  native  country  (as  he  designates  it)  and  free  from 
his  banishment.  We  must  tarry  to  read  this  poem : 

His  returne  to  London. 

From  the  dull  confines  of  the  drooping  West, 
To  see  the  day  spring  from  the  pregnant  East, 
Ravisht  in  spirit,  I  come,  nay  more,  I  flie 
To  thee,  blest  place  of  my  Nativitie  ! 
Thus,  thus  with  hallowed  foot  I  touch  the  ground, 
With  thousand  blessings  by  thy  Fortune  crown'd. 
O  fruitful  Genius  !  that  bestowest  here 
An  everlasting  plenty,  yeere  by  yeere. 

0  Place  !  O  People  !  Manners  !  fram'd  to  please 
All  Nations,  Customes,  Kindreds,  Languages  ! 

1  am  a  free-born  Roman  ;  suffer  then, 
That  I  amongst  you  live  a  Citizen. 

London  my  home  is  :  though  by  hard  fate  sent 
Into  a  long  and  irksome  banishment; 
Yet  since  cal'd  back ;  henceforward  let  me  be, 
O  native  countrey,  repossest  by  thee  ! 
For,  rather  then  Tie  to  the  West  return, 
Pie  beg  of  thee  first  here  to  have  mine  Urn. 
Weak  I  am  grown,  and  must  in  short  time  fall ; 
Give  thou  my  sacred  Reliques  Buriall. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ci. 


It  is  evident  that  the  '  outed '  Vicar's  return  to 
Ixmdon  was  as  of  a  Jew's  from  captivity  and  exile. 
Walker  (as  before)  states  that  "after  his  Ejectment  he 
returned  to  London,  and  having  no  fifths  paid  him,  was 
subsisted  by  Charity,  until  the  Restoration."  This 
needs  sifting — and  shall  now  have  it.  First  of  all, 
Mr.  Walford,  in  sheer  ignorance  of  the  facts,  sneers  at 
his  "  godly  successor,"  repeatedly  putting  *  godly'  within 
inverted  commas.  Now  had  he  deigned  to  inquire, 
instead  of  sneering,  he  would  have  superabundantly 
discovered  that  John  Syms  was  a  man  of  men — an 
humble,  devoted,  learned,  conscience-ruled  servant  of 
the  '  great  Taskmaster ' — a  man  whose  memory  bore 
fragrance  in  it  across  a  century  and  more,  as  well  for 
the  multitude  of  his  '  sufferings'  on  account  of  his  heroic 
Nonconformity,  as  for  the  meekness  and  modesty  and 
unclamorousness  with  which  he  bore  them.  Next,  in 
like  ignorance  of  the  facts,  the  non-payment  of  'Fifths' 
is  turned  not  only  into  a  sneer,  but  an  accusation. 
If,  again,  Wood  and  Mr.  Walford  and  your  ultra- 
Churchmen  had  inquired,  it  would  have  been  made 
clear  to  them  that  in  the  case  of  such  slender 
*  livings'  to  give  '  Fifths'  was  an  impossibility,  if  body 
and  soul  were  to  be  kept  together,  and  that  it  was 
only  in  such  cases,  naturally,  as  warranted  the  deduc- 


cii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

tion,  or  in  special  circumstances,  that  'Fifths'  were  due 
to  the  '  outed  '  clergyman.  Then  one  is  compelled  to 
remind  your  Mr.  Walfords  that  when  the  later  Ejection 
of  24th  August,  1662,  was  enforced,  those  who 
returned'  in  not  a  solitary  instance  paid  ' Fifths,'  or 
paid  one  sixpence  to  the  then  '  outed  ' ;  and  yet  these 
"  Two  Thousand  "  were  as  learned,  as  cultured,  as 
'  godly,'  as  consecrate  (to  say  the  least),  and  as  lawfully 
and  '  divinely '  appointed  as  they  were.  More  than 
that :  they  were  '  ejected  '  not  for  disloyalty  to  an 
earthly  sovereign,  but  as  being  loyal  to  the  King  of 
Kings  as  their  consciences  instructed  them.  I  cry 
shame  on  the  '  restored,'  who  while  '  out '  had  regu 
larly  drawn  their  '  Fifths '  and  more — and  yet  forgot 
the  good  men  and  true  who  beyond  the  letter  had  kept 
the  law  toward  them.  I  protest  with  indignation 
against  such  traducing  of  honourable  and  illustrious 
men. 

Further :  the  alleged  poverty  and  '  subsisting  by 
charity  '  is  sheer  nonsense.  For,  unlike  most,  Herrick 
had  innumerable  wealthy  relatives  of  the  nearest,  and 
many  open  doors  of  welcome  in  brothers  and  sisters 
well-married.  It  is  out  of  the  question  to  accredit 
that  all  these  resources  were  dried  up.  As  a  Royalist 
in  the  Commonwealth,  he  doubtless  had  his  hardships 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


and  vexations ;  but  there  is  not  one  iota  to  warrant  the 
alleged  abject  poverty.  We  are  the  more  disposed 
to  argue  this  from  the  numerous  indications  of  the 
most  friendly  relations  being  sustained  by  the  Poet 
with  his  family  on  both  sides.  The  Stones  and  Soames 
and  Wingfields,  and  the  other  Herricks,  and  their  sons 
and  daughters — all  kindly  remembered  as  '  kinsmen ' 
• — have  prominent  and  heart-full  celebration  all  through 
Hesperides.  Probably  the  origin  of  the  whole  misre 
presentation  is  to  be  looked  for  in  '  gossip  '  concerning 
gifts  bestowed  on  him  by  noble  and  other  friends,  as 
was  the  mode.  That,  like  others,  he  received  such 
gifts,  is  evident  by  his  acknowledgments  to  the  Earl  of 
Pembroke,  as  thus  : — 

"  You,  my  lord,  are  one,  whose  hand  along 
Goes  with  your  mouth,  or  do's  outrun  your  tongue, 
Paying  before  you  praise p,  and  cockring  wit, 
Give  both  the  gold  and  garland  unto  it." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  63.) 

So  "  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  dos't  give 
Not  onely  subject-matter  for  our  wit, 
But  likewise  oyle  of  maintenance  to  it. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Fcr  which,  before  thy  threshold,  we'll  lay  downe 
Our  Thyrse,  for  Scepter,  and  our  Bales  for  Crown." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  70.) 

:  A  brother  of  Endymion  Porter  may  also  have  been 
a  'patron';  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  the  two 
introductory  stanzas  of  "  An  Ode  to  Master  Endymion 
Porter,  upon  his  Brother's  Death "  are  put  into  the 
mouth  of  Endymion  and  express  his  loss,  not  Herrick's 
own.  Otherwise  the  second  stanza  would  have  sug 
gested  weighty  obligation,  if  not  dependence,  e.g. : — 

"  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  sheltering  wall, 

Whereon  my  vine  did  crawl e, 

Now,  now,  blowne  downe ;  needs  must  the  old  stock  fall." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  124.) 

The  opening  precludes  the  application  of  this  to 
Herrick  : — 

"  Not  all  thy  flushing  sunnes  are  set, 
Herrick,  as  yet." 

Such  '  gifts '  partook  not  at  all  of  the  nature  of  elee 
mosynary  payments  ;  and  yet  I  feel  persuaded  that 
Anthony  a-Wood  had  merely  caught  up  a  perverted 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cv. 

rumour  concerning  them,  and  so  wrote  of  his  "  subsist 
ing  by  charity." 

In  1647-8  he  published  his  "  Hesperides :  Works 
Humane  and  Divine,"  with  his  portrait — of  which 
more  in  the  sequel — prefixed.  He  describes  himself 
as  "  Robert  Herrick,  Esq."  ;  so  assuming  the  lay 
character,  as  was  possibly  expedient,  alike  from  the 
circumstances  and  from  the  matter-of-fact  that  in  so  far 
as  the  bulk  of  the  poems  went,  they  had  been  composed 
by  him  while  a  layman.  Elsewhere  again  (II.  Critical) 
I  examine  his  matterful  and  marvellous  double-volume. 
Here  it  is  sufficient  to  remark  that  never  had  the 
Cavaliers  so  congenial  a  gift  in  a  book — redolent  as  it 
was  of  that  type  of  wit  with  which  they  set  "  the  table 
in  a  roar." 

A  tradition  lingered  in  Devonshire  that  Herrick  was 
the  originator  of  "  Poor  Robin's  Almanac  "  that  ul 
timately  became  renowned  and  held  a  long  lease  of 
life,  if  indeed  it  do  not  still  in  humble  guise  circulate. 
Nichols  in  his  Leicestershire  accepts  the  tradition  as 
possible,  as  he  also  accepts  his  (impossible)  poverty 
while  in  London.  Others  recalling  that  the  Almanac 
was  first  published  in  1661  regard  it  as  impossible.  I 
have  disposed  of  the  poverty  in  any  pauper-sense ;  but 
I  am  inclined  to  accredit  the  tradition.  For  (i)  The 


MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 


Restoration  of  "  our  most  religious  king "  Charles  II. 
came  with  sudden  unexpectedness  ;  so  that  such  a 
literary  scheme  might  be  extremely  timely  to  Herrick, 
and  while  all  ready,  years  before,  he  may  have  simply 
postponed  publication  until  1661.  (2)  It  was  not 
until  the  'Ejection 'of  24th  August,  1662,  that  John 
Syms  was  '  outed  '  from  Dean  Prior ;  and  so  Herrick 
might  still  up  to  1662  be  gladly  occupied  in  such  a 
venture.  (3)  Such  a  tradition  could  scarcely  be 
invented — for  it  was  not  a  thing  at  all  likely  to  be 
ascribed  to  their  Vicar  by  his  Parishioners  unless  he 
himself  had  told  and  owned  it.  (4)  It  is  specially 
to  be  remembered  (albeit  from  Chaucer  onward 
*  Robin '  was  the  accepted  name  for  a  simple  rustic)  that 
both  in  his  Poems,  and  in  at  least  one  letter,  "  Robin  " 
and  "  Robin  Herrick"  was  his  self-chosen  playful  way  of 
describing  himself.  An  examination  of  the  earlier  '  Poor 
Robin's '  Almanacs  and  of  later,  gives  things  that  in  my 
judgment  might  have  been  written  by  Herrick.7  If  only 
we  had  the  key — and  a  chance  turning  out  of  old  MSS. 

7  1  regret  that  space  cannot  be  found  for  specimens.  Had  one 
known  absolutely  that  they  were  his,  space  must  have  been  taken. 
As  it  is,  we  must  wait  confirmation.  The  verses,  sooth  to  say,  are 
not  of  high  quality.  Certes  they  are  not  equal  to  Hesperides, 
though  they  must  have  come  after. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cvii. 

may  any  day  put  it  into  our  hands — I  imagine  it  would  be 
discovered  that  the  Poet  of  the  Hesperides  and  Noble 
Numbers  took  part  in  the  fecund  literature  of  the  period. 
It  seems  inconceivable  that  he  could  give  the  world 
"  Hesperides  "  and  "  Noble  Numbers,"  and  then  cease 
production.  And  yet  this  must  be  believed  if  we  set 
aside  anonymous  writing ;  for  outside  of  his  books,  all 
that  persistent  research  has  recovered  is  the  tomb-inscrip 
tion  of  his  neighbours,  Sir  Edward  and  Lady  Giles. 
This,  and  the  Poems  from  the  Ashmolean  and  B. 
Museum  MSS.  are  the  whole  that  have  been  added  to  his 
'  Works.'  Here  and  there  poems  of  the  Hesperides 
were  inserted  in  after-books,  e.g.  in  the  '  Musarurri 
Deliciae  '  (1656)  and  the  continuous  editions  of 
"  Wit's  Recreations  "  and  the  like.  How  strangely 
even  Hesperides  had  fallen  out  of  sight  so  early  as 
1657  is  evidenced  by  Henry  Hold's  "  Wit  a  sporting  in 
a  pleasant  Grove  of  New  Fancies,"  wherein  various  of 
its  Poems  were  undetectedly  appropriated  bodily,  and 
others  disguisedly. 

Returned  to  Dean  Prior  after  24th  August,  1662— 
John  Syms. still  '  preaching'  with  splendid  devotedness 
and  fearlessness  of  penalties  in  neighbouring  villages — 
Herrick  was  then  in  his  7ist-72d  year  ;  but,  in  all  like 
lihood  beneath  his  grey  hairs  carried  as  clear  an  intel- 


cviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

lect  and  joyous  a  spirit  as  of  old.  He  had  vowed  that 
nothing  should  ever  take  him  back  to  loathed  Devon 
shire  : — 

"  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." 
(Vol.  I.,  p.  48.) 

but  mellowed  and  softened  by  the  intervening  years  of 
national  and  personal  trial,  he  no  doubt  went  back 
gratefully  and  graciously.  He  was  destined  to  reach 
the  "  four  score  years  "  and  upwards.  There  is  an 
inexplicable  absence  of  contemporary  notices  of  him. 
How  he  bore  himself  in  his  white-headed  old  age  there 
is  no  light  to  see.  At  last  the  "  lean  fellow "  who 
beats  all  conquerors  paid  the  ultimate  call.  He  died 
!  in  October,  1674,  in  his  83d  year.  As  with  George 
Herbert,  the  exact  day  of  his  death  cannot  be  fixed ; 
but  in  the  church-register  at  Dean-Prior  is  still  pre 
served  this  entry  : 

"  Robert  Herrick,  vicker,  was  buried  y6  i5th  day  of 
October  1674." 

His  grave  is  unknown,  or  at  least  uncertain.  There 
is  a  characteristic  introduction  of  himself  in  his  epitaph 
lines  for  Sir  Edward  and  Lady  Giles  ;  and  if  composed 
long  after  their  decease  for  a  late-raised  monument,  the 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cix. 

expectant  attitude  of  the  words  I  venture  to  italicise,  is 
significant  and  pathetic : 

"  Here's  the  Sun-set  of  a  Tedious  day  : 
These  two  asleep  are  :  Vie  but  be  Vndrest 
And  so  to  Bed :  Pray  wish  us  all  Good  Rest." 

A  collateral  descendant  (W.  Perry-Herrick,  Esq.,  of 
Beaumanor  Park,  Leicestershire)  erected  a  costly  monu 
ment  to  his  memory  in  Dean  Church.  It  is  cut  out  of 
a  great  block  of  Caen  stone,  and  carven  in  fruit  and 
foliage.  The  inscription  is  on  a  brass  plate  and  runs 
as  follows  : 

IN  THIS  CHURCHYARD  LIE  THE  REMAINS  OF 

ROBERT  HERRICK, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  HESPERIDES  AND  OTHER  POEMS, 
OF  AN  ANCIENT  FAMILY  IN      PRESENTED  TO  THIS  LlVING 

LlECESTERSHIRE,  AND  BORN  BY  KlNG  CHARLES  I.,  IN 
IN  THE  YEAR  1591.  HE  WAS  THE  YEAR  1629.  EjECTEDDU- 
EDUCATED  AT  ST.  JOHN'S  RING  THE  COMMONWEALTH 

COLLEGE      AND      TRINITY      AND       REINSTATED      SOON 

HALL,  CAMBRIDGE.  AFTER  THE    RESTORATION. 

HE  DIED  VICAR  OF  THIS  PARISH  IN  THE  YEAR  1674. 

Wt)i0  tablet  toa0  (ZErecteft 
To  HIS  MEMORY  BY  HIS  KlNSMAN,  WlLLIAM  PERRY  HERRICK 

OF  BEAUMANOR  PARK,  LEICESTERSHIRE,  A.D.  1857. 
"  OUR  MORTAL  PARTS  MAY  WRAPT  IN  SEARE-CLOTHES  LYE, 
GREAT  SPIRITS  NEVER  WITH  THEIR  BODIES  DIE.*' 

HESPERIDES. 
VIRTUS  OMNIA  NOBILITAT.8 

8  Works :  Fuller  Worthies'  Library,  Vol.  II.  p.  70. 


ex.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

And  so  I  leave  my  little  Biography  with  the  Reader, 
asking  him,  if  so  he  please,  to  turn  next  to  II.  Cri 
tical.  If  in  both  I  have  sought  to  revive  the  'fame' 
of  Herrick  it  has  been  with  a  recollection  of  the  axiom 
of  Fulke  Greville,  Lord  Brooke,  in  his  "  Inquisition 
vpon  Fame  and  Honour  " : — 

"  Thus  see  we,  both  the  force  and  use  of  Fame ; 
How  States  and  men  have  honour  by  her  stile, 
And  ecchoes  that  enuiron  in  Order's  frame, 
Which  disproportion  waiteth  to  beguile  : 

Fame  walks  in  truth,  and  cherisheth  her  end, 
Knowes  neither  why,  nor  how,  yet  is  her  friend." 

(Works  in  F.  W.  L.,  ii.  p.  70.) 


CXI. 


II.    CRITICAL. 

'T'HE  outward  Facts  in  the  life  of  Herrick,  even  as 
more  matterfully  told  by  us  (I.  Biographical)  are 
few  and  simple.  None  the  less  has  he  secured  that 
*  eternity  of  &rja£'  of  which  again  and  again  he  prophe 
sied  in  his  Hesperides.  It  is  as  Singer  he  is  remem 
bered  ;  and  if  his  memory  thus  endure  through  rela 
tively  humble  and  fragile  verse,  it  is  only  the  old  old 
story  of  the  fern  in  its  little  nook  out-during  the  stately 
Manor-house.  Flowers  bloom  across  the  centuries, 
while  the  rock  crumbles  and  moulders.  The  merest 
lilts  and  playthings  of  Poetry  keep  green  and  fragrant 
the  name  of  their  Maker,  when  (so-called)  '  great '  works 
are  benignantly  covered  with  the  fine  small  dust  of 
oblivion.  And  yet  there  is  more,  infinitely,  than 
flower-beauty  or  bird-like  singing  in  Hesperides.  Apollo 
was  still  Apollo  when  he  played  his  oaten  reed;  but  Apollo 
who  played  his  oaten  reed  was  the  '  unshorn '  sun-god. 
Similarly,  if  you  look  and  listen  whilst  you  read  the  Poetry 
of  Robert  Herrick,  you  will  discover  that  you  have  genius 
of  a  unique  and  masterful  sort — no  mere  dainty  weaver 
of  words  into  rhyme.  Greatness  is  not  a  synonym  for 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


bulk.  Perfectness,  on  however  small  a  scale,  is  the 
signet  of  the  one  man  in  ten  thousand,  whatever  be  his 
material,  and  whatever  his  art.  Keeping  all  this  in 
mind,  I  ask  the  Reader  to  accompany  me  in  an  exami 
nation  of  the  Works  of  Herrick  so  as  to  bring  out  their 
and  his  characteristics — the  latter  the  more  necessary 
because  if  not  the  Poet  at  least  the  Man  has  not  been 
adequately  estimated  ;  contrariwise,  has  been  mis-esti 
mated.  These  six  things  I  propose  to  look  at  / 
successively  : — 

I.  The  Book  in  its  arrangement  or  disarrangement : 

of  what  it  consists,  and  wherefore. 

II.  Evidences  of  patient  and  genuine  workmanship. 

III.  What  the  Book  tells  of  the  Man  and  his  relation 

to  his  times. 

IV.  The  specialities  of  his  Poetry. 

V.  His  assurance  of  fame. 

VI.  His  Portrait. 

I.  The  Book  in  its  arrangement  or  disarrangement :  of 
what  it  consists,  and  wherefore.  In  "  The  Argument  of 
his  Book,"  (I.  p.  7-8)  the  'argument'  is  sweetly  and 
alluringly  put.  As  one  is  thankful  to  turn  the  leaf  of 
our  (Authorised)  English  Bible,  and  pass  from  the  pious 
profanities  and  lying  of  the  Epistle-dedicatory  "  to  the 
most  high  and  mighty  prince,  James,"  so  one  inhales 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxiii. 

with  sense  of  relief  from  mephitic  air  the  fresh 
ness  of  the  outburst  that  succeeds  the  verse-dedication 
"  To  the  most  illustrious  and  most  hopefull  Prince, 
Charles,  Prince  of  Wales."  One  cannot  read  it  too 
often  ;  and  so  here  it  is  : — 

I  sing  of  Brooks,  of  Blossomes,  Birds,  and  Bowers  : 

Of  April,  May,  of  June,  and  July- Flowers. 

I  sing  of  May-poles,  Hock-carts,  Wassails,  Wakes, 

Of  Bride- grooms,  Brides,  and  of  their  Bridall-cakes. 

\  write  of  Youth,  of  Love,  and  have  Accesse 

By  these,  to  sing  of  cleanly-  Wantonnesse. 

I  sing  of  Delves,  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. 

\  write  of  Groves,  of  Twilights,  and  I  sing 

The  Court  of  Mab,  and  of  the  Fairie-King. 

\  write  of  Hell ;  I  sing  (and  ever  shall) 

Of  Heaven,  and  hope  to  have  it  after  all. 

(Vol.  I.,  pp.  7-8.) 

With  this  '  argument '  for  guide,  it  is  not  difficult  to  find 
it  fulfilled  (filled  full)— for,  as  in  Noble  Numbers,  he 
says  of  God  : — 

He  gives  not  poorly,  taking  some 
Between  the  finger,  and  the  thumb ; 
But,  for  our  glut,  and  for  our  store, 
Fine  flowre  prest  down,  and  running  o're. 

(III.  p.  146.) 


cxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

But  there  is  a  great  deal  more  in  Hesperides  than  the 
'  argument '  promises.  You  come  first  of  all  on  celebra 
tions  of  eminent  contemporaries  and  near  relatives  and 
others,  and  then  all-too-often  on  what  are  designated 
'  Epigrams.'  Neither  of  these  are  in  any  way  so  much 
as  hinted  at  in  the  'argument.'  I  notice  this  in  the 
outset  because  it  gives  a  solution  of  different  problems 
that  start  themselves  as  you  study  the  Book,  and  per 
chance  lightens,  if  it  do  not  absolutely  relieve,  the 
blame  of  those  offences  against  good  manners,  and 
even  good  breeding,  that  stain  the  pages. 

The  verse-celebrations  addressed  to  friends  and  emi 
nent  contemporaries  were  evidently  designed  to  form  a 
separate  work  from  Hesperides.  They  are  these — Upon 
his  Sister-in-Law,  Mistresse  Elizab  :  Herrick  (I.  p.  39). 
To  the  reverend  shade  of  his  religious  Father  (I.  pp. 
45-6)— To  the  Earle  of  Westmerland  (I.  p.  67)— To 
the  Patron  of  Poets,  M.  End.  Porter  (I.  p.  70) — His 
parting  from  Mrs.  Dorothy  Keneday  (I.  p.  72) — Upon 
Mrs.  Eliz:  Wheeler,  under  the  name  of  Amarillis  (I.  p. 
78-9) — To  his  dying  brother,  Master  William  Herrick 
(I.  p.  125-6) — To  Mistresse  Katherine  Bradshaw,  the 
lovely,  that  crowned  him  with  Laurel  (I.  pp.  163-4) — 
To  the  most  vertuous  Mistresse  Pot,  who  many  times 
entertained  him  (I.  p.  165) — To  the  High  and  Noble 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxv. 

Prince,  George,  Duke,  Marquesse,  and  Earle  of  Buck 
ingham  (1/173) — Mrs.  Eliz.  Wheeler,  under  the  name 
of  the  lost  Shepardesse  (II.  pp.  3-4) — To  the  most 
accomplisht  Gentleman  Master  Edward  Norgate  (II.  p. 
29 — To  his  honoured  kinsman  Sir  William  Soame  (II. 
p.  45) — To  the  Lady  Mary  Villars,  Governesse  to  the 
Princesse  Henrietta  (II.  p.  56) — The  meddow  verse  or 
Aniversary  to  Mistris  Bridget  Lowman  (II.  pp.  60-1) — 
To  the  right  honourable  Philip,  Earle  of  Pembroke, 
and  Montgomery  (II.  pp.  62-3) — To  the  most  learned, 
wise,  and  Arch- Antiquary,  M.  John  Selden  (II.  p.  65) 
—To  the  most  fair  and  lovely  Mistris,  Anne  Soame, 
now  Lady  Abdie  (II.  pp.  69-70) — Upon  his  Kinswoman 
Mistris  Elizabeth  Herrick  (II.  pp.  70-1) — Upon  M. 
Ben  Johnson — Another  (II.  pp.  78-9) — To  his  Nephew, 
to  be  prosperous  in  his  art  of  Painting  (II.  p.  79) — To 
his  Maid  Prew  (II.  pp.  80-1) — To  his  peculiar  friend, 
Sir  Edward  Fish,  Knight  Baronet  (II.  p.  82) — To  his 
peculiar  friend,  Master  Thomas  Shapcott,  Lawyer  (II. 
p.  no) — To  the  right  gratious  Prince,  Lodwick,  Duke 
of  Richmond  and  Lenox  (II.  pp.  113-4) — To  the  Right 
Honourable  Mildmay,  Earle  of  Westmoreland  (II.  p. 
1 1 8)— To  his  Kinsman,  Sir  Tho.  Soame  (II.  p.  124)— 
To  his  worthy  Friend,  M.  Tho.  Falconbridge  (II.  p. 
132)— To  Sir  Clisebie  Crew  (II.  p.  134)— To  his  Hon- 


cxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

cured  Kinsman,  Sir  Richard  Stone  (II.  pp.  139-40) — 
To  the  right  Honourable  Edward  Earle  of  Dorset 
(II.  p.  143) — To  his  Kinswoman,  Mrs.  Penelope 
Wheeler  (II.  p.  145) — Another  upon  her  (ibid) — To 
Mistresse  Mary  Willand  (II.  p.  148)— To  his  Kins 
woman,  Mistresse  Susanna  Herrick  (II.  p.  152)— Upon 
Mistresse  Susanna  Southwell  her  cheeks  (II.  p.  153) — 
To  his  honoured  friend,  Sir  John  Myntz  (II.  p.  154) — 
To  his  worthy  Kinsman,  Mr.  Stephen  Soame  (II.  p. 
162) — To  his  Honoured  friend,  M.  John  Weare, 
Councellour  (II.  p.  166) — Upon  his  Kinswoman,  Mis 
tresse  Bridget  Herrick  (II.  p.  169) — To  his  Brother  in 
Law,  Master  John  Wingfield  (II.  p.  181) — His  Prayer 
to  Ben  Johnson  (II.  p.  185) — To  his  worthy  friend,  M. 
Arthur  Bartly  (II.  p.  216) — To  M.  Denham,  on  his 
Prospective  Poem  (II.  p.  220) — To  Doctor  Alablaster, 
(II.  pp.  258-59) — Upon  his  Kinswoman  Mrs.  M.  S.  (II. 
pp.  259-60) — To  his  deare  Valentine,  Mistresse  Margaret 
Falconbrige  (II.  p.  272) — To  his  faithfull  friend,  Master 
John  Crofts,  Cup-bearer  to  the  King  (II.  pp.  276-7) — 
To  my  dearest  Sister  M.  Mercie  Herrick  (II.  pp.  180-1) 
—To  Mistresse  Amie  Potter  (II.  288) — To  M.  Henry 
Lawes,  the  excellent  Composer  of  his  Lyricks  (II.  p. 
293)— To  his  Friend,  Master  J.  Jincks  (II.  p.  295) — 
To  his  Honour'd  Friend,  Sir  Thomas  Heale  (II.  pp. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxvii. 

298-9) — Vpon  Ben  Johnson  and  An  Ode  for  him  (III. 
pp.  11-12)— To  M.  Kellam  (III.  pp.  14-15) — To  his 
honoured  and  most  ingenious  friend  Mr.  Charles 
Cotton  (III.  p.  24) — To  M.  Leonard  Willan  his  pecu 
liar  friend  (III.  p.  27) — To  his  worthy  friend  M.  John 
Hall,  Student  of  Grayes-Inne  (III.  27-8) — To  the  most 
comely  and  proper  M.  Elizabeth  Finch  (III.  pp.  28-9) 
— Ultimus  Heroum,  or  to  the  most  learned,  and  to  the 
right  Honourable  Henry,  Marquesse  of  Dorchester  (III. 
p.  31) — To  his  learned  friend  M.  Jo.  Harmar,  Phisitian 
to  the  Colledge  of  Westminster  (III.  pp.  32-3) — To  his 
Sister  in  Law,  M.  Susanna  Herrick  (III.  p.  37) — Upon 
the  Lady  Crew  (III.  p.  37)— Of  Tomasin  Parsons  (III. 
p.  38) — To  his  Kinsman,  M.  Tho:  Herrick,  who  desired 
to  be  in  his  Book  (III.  p.  39) — To  the  handsome  Mis- 
tresse  Grace  Potter  (III.  p.  43) — To  his  peculiar  friend 
M.  Jo:  Wicks  (III.  p.  65)— To  Sir  George  Parrie, 
Doctor  of  the  Civill  Law  (III.  p.  66) — A  Dialogue  be 
twixt  himselfe  and  Mistresse  Eliza:  Wheeler,  under  the 
name  of  Amarillis  (III.  p.  69) — To  the  Honoured, 
Master  Endimion  Porter  (III.  pp.  70-1) — The  School 
or  Perl  of  Putney,  the  Mistress  of  all  singular  manners, 
Mistresse  Portman  (III.  pp.  73-4) — To  M.  Laurence 
Swetnaham  (III.  p.  76) — To  the  most  accomplisht 
Gentleman  Master  Michael  Oulsworth  (III.  pp.  77-8) 
—To  his  Brother  Nicolas  Herrick  (III.  p.  80). 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


As  the  most  of  these  '  celebrations/  compared  with 
the  majority  of  the  others,  are  of  considerable  extent, 
it  will  be  seen  that  their  proportion  to  the  whole  is 
large.  Now  turning  to  certain  of  them,  there  appear 
various  titles  for  the  Book  within  which  he  was  writing 
the  several  tributes.  Thus  to  Sir  Edward  Fish  (i) : — 

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.      (II.  p.  82.) 

Again,  to  Sir  Richard  Stone  (2)  : — 

To  this  white  Temple  of  my  Heroes,  here 
Beset  with  stately  Figures  (every  where) 

Come,  thou."  (II.  p.  139.) 

Once  more,  to  Mrs.  Penelope  Wheeler  (3)  : — 

Next  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.       (II.  p.  145.) 

Further,  to  Mr.  Stephen  Soame  (4) : — 

Nor  is  my  Number  full,  till  I  inscribe 

Thee  sprightly  Soame,  one  of  my  righteous  Tribe 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxix. 


Among  which  Holies,  be  Thou  ever  known, 
Brave  Kinsman,  markt  out  with  the  whiter  stone  : 
Which  seals  Thy  Glorie ;  since  I  doe  prefer 
Thee  here  in  my  eternall  Calender.      (II.  p.  162.) 

Again,  to  Dr.  Alablaster  (5)  : — 

Nor  art  thou  lesse  esteem'd,  that  I  have  plac'd 
(Amongst  mine  honour'd)  Thee  (almost)  the  last. 

(II.  P-  258.) 

Once  more,  to  Susanna  Herrick  (6) : — 

The  Person  crowns  the  Place ;  your  lot  doth  fall 
Last,  yet  to  be  with  These  a  Principall. 
How  ere  it  fortuned  ;  know  for  Truth,  I  meant 
You  a  fore-leader  in  this  Testament.    (III.  p.  37.) 

Finally,  to  his  kinsman,  M.  Tho.  Herrick,  who  desired 
to  be  in  his  Book  (7)  : — 

Welcome  to  this  my  Colledge,  and  though  late 
Th'ast  got  a  place  here  (standing  candidate) 
It  matters  not,  since  thou  art  chosen  one 
Here  of  my  great  and  good  foundation. 

(III.  p.  39-) 

The  first,  by  the  use  of  "  Plantation,"  might  have 
been  interpreted  as  applicable  to  Hesperides,  as  such ; 
but  all  the  others  point  out  definitely  a  Book  of  Friends, 
a  Book  dedicated  to  their  honour  and  poetic  immortality. 
Then  the  third  to  Mrs.  Penelope  Wheeler,  while  called 


cxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"  Late,"  is  early  in  Hesperides,  though  well-advanced  in 
the  list  of  those  separately  renowned;  and  so  of  Dr. 
Alablaster,  "  almost  the  last"  does  not  at  all  hold  of  his 
place  in  Hesperides,  neither  is  the  sixth  to  Mrs. 
Susanna  Herrick  "  last."  Besides,  finally,  the  seventh 
to  M.  Tho.  Herrick  recalls  the  first-announced  purpose 
of  that  Book  in  which  he  had  "  desired  to  be."  Hence 
I  think  most  will  agree  with  me  that  Herrick  had  a 
manuscript  book  wherein  he  copied  out  his  Verses  to 
the  inner  circle  of  his  friends  and  compeers,  and  which 
he  pleasantly  thought  of,  as  a  Gallery  of  Portraits,  or  a 
Hall  of  Statues,  or  a  College  of  good  and  great.  Their 
repeated  annunciation  of  *  immortality'  would  lead  us 
to  conclude  that  they  were  meant  one  day  to  be 
published.  Add  to  these  the  royal  and  loyal  poems — 
of  which  anon — and  the  brilliant  Epithalamiums  and 
tender  Epitaphs  and  rural  poems  to  his  Brother,  and 
Crewe,  and  Pemberton,  and  sunny  self-portraits — which 
all  more  or  less  partake  of  the  same  character, — and  we 
can  understand  the  Poet's  lofty  estimate  of  such  a  book 
when  it  should  be  given  to  the  world. 

The  Epigrams,  in  relation  to  the  '  argument'  are  also 
and  likewise  made  conspicuous  by  its  absolute  silence 
on  them.  Taken  as  a  whole  they  were  evidently  written 
off  after  a  laugh  over  Martial,  or  at  some  odd  or  offend- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxxi. 

ing  parishioners.  With  very  rare  exceptions  they  lack  the  | 
keenness  of  the  classical  Epigram.  With  as  rare  excep 
tions  they  are  just  so  many  *  spots'  of  putridity  placed 
among  the  good  things  of  the  banquet.  I  cannot 
suppose  that  their  Author  designed  them  for  publica 
tion,  or  at  least,  as  part  of  Hesperides.  A  friend  suggests 
that  the  Vicar  of  Dean  Prior  answered  his  parishioners 
as  Solomon  says  the  fool  ought  to  be  answered,  that 
is,  descended  to  their  low  level  and  versified  in  their 
own  rough  and  coarse  fashion  the  every-day  subjects  of 
their  unlicensed  wit  and  mirth.  It  may  have  been  so 
— may  be  conceded  that  refinement  would  have  been 
cast  away  on  such  "  currish  "  natives.  None  the  less  is 
it  to  be  lamented  that  their  Vicar  descended  rather  than 
^sought  to  elevate  theni.  Yet  must  it  be  added  that 
among  old  clergymen,  even  down  to  our  own  day,  an 
extraordinary  freedom  of  speech  was  common.  A  very 
small  grain  of  salt  gave  circulation  to  exceedingly  broad 
stories  ;  and  notwithstanding,  one  could  not  doubt  of 
the  reality  of  the  worth  of  such  ancient  and  jocund 
clerics.  The  sorrow  is  that  in  Herrick's  case  his  Epi 
grams  were  printed  and  published — only  let  after-con 
siderations  thereon  be  weighed. 

Had   those   poems   announced   in   the  '  argument' 
alone  been  published,  Hesperides  had  been  such  a  gift 


cxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

to  our  finest  poetical  literature,  as  should  have  remained 
to-day  unapproached  for  etherealness  and  delicacy,  for 
brightness  and  whiteness,  for  colour  and  fragrance  and 
melody.  But  self-evidently  the  Publisher  had  an  eye 
to  the  sale,  and  his  own  remuneration ;  and  on  the 
plea  of  slenderness  if  only  such  Poems  composed  the 
volume,  over-persuaded  Herrick  to  entrust  him  with 
his  "  Book  of  the  Just"  and  his  miscellaneous  Manu 
script  of  Epigrams  and  the  like,  and  his  marked  copy 
of  "Wit's  Recreations."  Whereupon  he  or  some 
unskilled  subordinate  proceeded  to  intermix  these 
additions  with  the  others.  That  the  Poet  himself  had 
nothing  to  do  with  the  arrangement  or  disarrangement 
lies  on  the  surface.  Thus  "  The  Fairie  Temple  "  of 
which  the  last  line  is 

"  Goe's  to  the  Feast  that's  now  provided  " 

is  separated  from  the  Feast  by  nearly  fifty  pages,  and 
then  after  fully  nine  pages  comes  "  Oberon's  Palace," 
which  begins  "  After  the  Feast."  These  three  poems 
were  most  certainly  intended  to  form  one,  or  to  be  set 
together.  Then  "  The  Beggar  to  Mab  "  would  natur 
ally  have  followed  the  others.  It  may  be  presumed 
that  the  beggar  saw  the  fairy,  banquet,  and  asked  for  a 
share  of  the  c'rumbs.  Similarly  one  is  constantly  coming 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxxiii. 

on  poems  in  Hesperides  utterly  incongruous,  yet  associated . 
You  have  such  a  blossoming  of  flowers,  or  such  an  incense 
of  scents,  or  such  a  healthy  breath  of  vernal  wind,  or 
such  a  vivid  word-landscape  as  the  setting  of  some  fine 
old  English  country  usage,  as  thrills  one ;  and  lo  !  off 
the  same  or  next  leaf  you  have  an  Epigram  without  one 
grain  of  salt  of  wit,  or  some  hit  at  a  luckless  parishioner, 
or  some  outrage  on  common  decency  that  might  have 
done  for  "  Wit's  Recreations "  or  the  "  Musarum 
Deliciae,"  but  which  in  Hesperides  is  a  sorrow  and  a 
scandal.  I  should  very  gladly  have  re-arranged  the 
whole,  shovelling  away  the  Epigrams  bodily  into  an  ap 
pendix  that  might  not  be  read,  and  as  one  removes  a 
snail  from  a  lily's  heart,  occasional  lines  throughout. 
But  as  the  Book  was  published  during  the  Author's 
own  life-time,  it  is  too  late,  in  an  edition  of  his  Works, 
to  venture  on  this.  I  have  before  noted  that  there 
appeared  in  "Wit's  Recreations"  (1640),  sixty-two 
poems  afterwards  included  in  Hesperides.  Mr.  Hazlitt 
has  a  section  of  his  edition  of  Herrick  which  he  en 
titles  "  Poems  Attributed  to  Herrick."  They  are  the 
following  : — 

1.  King  Oberon's  Apparell. 

2.  The  Fairy  King. 

3.  The  Fairy  Queen,  or  the  Fairies  Fegaries. 


cxxi  v.  ME  MORI  A  L-  INTROD  UC  TION. 

4.  Another  Copy. 

5.  The  Fayrie  Kings  Diet  and  Apparrell. 

6.  A  Description  of  the  Fairies'  Revel  and  Feast. 

7.  To  a  Gentlewoman  with  one  eye. 

8.  Domina  Margarita  Sandis  :  Anagramma. 

9.  On  Chloris  Walking  in  the  Snow. 

10.  On  Julia's  Weeping. 

11.  On  a  Beautifull  Virgin. 

12.  A  Loving  Bargain. 

13.  To  Celia  Weeping. 

14.  The  Wake. 

Except  No.  10 — a  couplet — which  belongs  to  Hes- 
perides  (Vol.  II.,  p.  250)  and  appears  in  its  place 
in  Mr.  Hazlitt's  own  edition  —  there  is  not  a 
shadow  of  authority  for  assigning  any  one  of  these  to 
Herrick.  Nos.  7,  8,  9,  n,  12,  13,  and  14  were  pub 
lished  in  "Wit's  Recreations"  (1640)  and  seeing  that 
Herrick  reclaimed  no  fewer  than  sixty-two  Poems  from 
"  Wit's  Recreations  "  for  Hesperides,  and  did  not  these, 
this  is  decisive  that  they  were  not  his ;  while  internally 
no  student  of  the  Hesperides  could  for  a  moment 
imagine  them  to  belong  to  our  Poet.  Nos.  i,  2,  3,  4, 
5,  and  6  are  expressly  assigned  in  three  public  MSS. 
and  in  several  others  to  their  actual  Authors.  Thus 
"  King  Oberon's  Apparell "  appeared  in  "  Musarum 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxxv. 


Delicise "  (1655)  and  faultily  in  Poole's  "English 
Parnassus  "  (1657) — in  both  anonymously  ;  but  in  the 
Rawlinson  MS.  Poet  147,  p.  102,  under  the  heading 
of  "  The  Faery  King,"  it  is  signed  Sr.  S.  St.,  and  who 
was  meant  thereby  is  ascertained  from — among  others 
— the  additional  MSS.  B.  Museum  11,811,  fol.  18, 
where  the  name  is  written  in  full,  S[ir]  Simeon  Steward, 
which  again  agrees  with  MS.  Malone,  17,  and  various 
other  MSS.  known  to  me  in  private  hands.  To  Sir 
Simeon  Steward  therefore  belongs  "  King  Oberon's 
Apparell,"  and  so  too,  of  course,  the  variant  of  it 
(No.  2)  "  The  Fairy  King."  In  Hesperides  there  is  a 
verse-Letter  to  Sir  Simeon  Steward  (Vol.  II.  pp.  36-39) 
which  prepares  us  to  find  him  a  writer  of  verse  imita 
tive  or  reflective  of  Herrick.  Had  "  King  Oberon's 
Apparell  "  or  "  The  Fairy  King  "  been  Herrick's  own, 
there  was  no  reason  whatever  that  when  he  published 
his  Fairy  poems  he  should  not  have  included  it. 
Nos.  3  and  4,  "The  Fairy  Queen,  or  the  Fairies 
Fegaries,"  and  "  Another  copy  "  exists  in  a  number  of 
MSS.,  public  and  private,  but  in  none  is  Herrick's 
name  found.  It  was  printed  fragmentarily  in  a  little 
volume  already  noticed,  viz,  "  A  Description  of  the 
Queen  of  Fayries,"  etc.,  etc.,  (1635)  an(*  h'ke  all  there 
in,  anonymously ;  but  in  MS.  Ashmole  36,  there  is  an 


cxxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

endorsement,  "  To  the  right  wo11,  his  moste  deare  and 
much  respected  Father  James  Pagitt  at  Battersey, 
present  these."  This  may  or  may  not  mean  that  Pagitt 
( films )  was  the  author.  Mr.  Hazlitt  is  disposed  to 
regard  him  as  the  transcriber  only.  Be  this  as  it  may 
— but  for  myself  it  is  just  such  a  juvenile  writing  after 
Herrick  as  one  might  expect  in  a  young  friend  of  his — 
that  Herrick  is  not  its  composer  is  again  made  sure  by  his 
not  reclaiming  it  for  Hesperides,  while  he  did  so  in  the 
case  of  another  fragment  which  appeared  in  the  same 
volume — as  will  be  seen  immediately.  Internally  there 
is  the  faint  echo,  but  not  at  all  the  real  voice  of  Herrick. 
No.  5,  "  The  Fayrie  King's  Diet  and  Apparrell,"  occurs 
in  the  Rawlinson  MS.  Poet  142  (near  the  middle  of  the 
volume).  It  is  a  somewhat  stupid  adumbration,  of  Nos. 
i  and  2,  and  Herrick's  "  Feast."  The  two  parts  in  the 
MS.  are  separated  by  a  line.  Mr.  Hazlitt  states  that 
"  the  writer  of  this  collection  evidently  supposed  them 
to  be  portions  of  the  same  poem."  This  alleged  'sup 
position'  is  not  quite  certain.  The  second  part  was 
probably  derived  from  an  early  MS.  of  Herrick's — as 
in  the  sequel  will  appear.  Nowhere  is  the  first  part 
ascribed  to  him,  and  nobody  worth  considering  will 
agree  with  Mr.  Hazlitt's  haphazard  ascription  of  it  to 
him.  Still  more  emphatically  must  every  one  reject 


ME  MORI  A  L-  IN  TROD  UCTION.  cxx  vii . 

the  possibility  of  Herrick  perpetrating  such  rubbish  as 
No.  6,  "  A  Description  of  the  Fairies  Revel  and  Feast." 
In  the  Ashmole  MS.  36,  fol.  47,  recto  (not  45,  as  Mr. 
Hazlitt)  whence  Mr.  Hazlitt  fetched  it,  has  no  author's 
name  attached.  It  is  an  outrage  to  make  Herrick 
responsible  for  such  inartistic  rhymes — our  word  re- 
reminding  that  Mr.  Hazlitt  in  st.  2d,  1.  3,  misreads 
*  artistically  '  for  *  artificially  '  and  otherwise  mangles 
what  can  hardly  be  made  worse  than  the  original. 
No.  7,  "  To  a  Gentlewoman  with  One  Eye,"  is  found 
in  Rawlinson  MS.  147,  p.  13  (not  142,  as  Mr.  Hazlitt) 
and  is  signed  "  Henry  Molle."  In  place  of  seeing 
with  Mr.  Hazlitt  that  this  is  "unmistakeably"  Herrick's, 
no  capable  reader  will  discern  anything  in  the  lines  that 
could  not  have  been  written  by  Henry  Molle  or  any 
other,  not  excluding  Mr.  W.  C.  Hazlitt  himself.  Nos. 
8,  9,  n,  12,  13,  and  14,  having  all  been  published  in 
"Wit's  Recreations"  (1640)  whence  Herrick  re-claimed 
sixty-two  poems  for  Hesperides  (as  before)  they  are  set 
aside  as  not  his,  by  the  fact  of  his  not  claiming  them. 
This  is  additionally  confirmed  by  his  having,  on  the 
other  part,  re-claimed  No.  10 — as  already  pointed  out. 
Were  it  worth  while,  it  might  be  shown  to  whom  these 
belong ;  but  not  being  Herrick's,  there  seems  no  call  to 
think  more  about  them.  It  is  with  a  sense  of  infinite 


cxxviii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

relief  that  I  have  rescued  Herrick  from  the  imputation 
of  the  authorship  of  so  much  additional  trash.  The 
Publisher's  unhappy  mixture  and  intermixture  of  all 
the  Herrick  MSS.,  good-naturedly  entrusted  to  him  by 
their  Writer,  has  wrought  sufficient  damage,  without 
more  being  contributed  to  the  weeds  and  thorns  and 
nettles  and  pestilential  growths  of  Hesperides.  Our 
section  yclept  '  Golden  Apples  '  it  had  been  pity  to 
lose — the  last.  '  Epitaph  on  Sir  Edward  and  Lady 
Giles'  being  very  fine — but  these  "Poems  attributed 
to  Herrick,"  with  the  slight  exception  of  the  fragment 
from  an  early  MS.  of  the  "  Feast,"  are  to  be  summarily 
and  gratefully  rejected. 

Let  the  student  of  Hesperides  keep  in  his  forgiving 
recollection  that  for  a  great  deal  at  any  rate  of  the 
incongruous  arrangement  or  disarrangement  of  his 
book,  not  Herrick,  but  JOHN  WILLIAMS  and  FRANCIS 
EGLESFIELD,  his  publishers,  must  be  held  answerable. 
It  would  have  been  a  '  gainful!  loss  '  had  they  not  been 
allowed  access  to  the  Epigrams.  By  their  indiscrimi 
nate  insertion  the  Author's  lines  concerning  the  Errata 
were  additionally  illustrated : 

"  For  these  Transgressions  which  thou  here  dost  see, 
Condemne  the  Printer,  Reader,  and  not  me ; 
Who  gave  him  forth  good  Grain,  though  he  mistook 
The  Seed  ;  so  sow'd  these  Tares  throughout  my  Book." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxxix. 

II.  Evidence  of  patient  and  genuine  workmanship. 
Differing  from  SIR  PHILIP  SIDNEY  earlier,  and  GEORGE 
HERBERT  later,  the  Works  "  humane  and  divine  "  of 
Herrick  had  the  advantage  that  none  were  posthumous 
— every  "  clause  and  word  "  having  passed  under  his 
own  eye,  although — as  shewn — he  allowed  himself  to 
be  over-persuaded  by  his  Publishers  to  let  them  print 
everything  put  into  their  hands  in  his  MSS.  But  on 
the  other  hand — especially  in  the  light  of  ^hdjlmter- 
mixture  and  disarrangement  that  have  beeny&mon- 
strated — it  is  a  disadvantage  that  Hesperides  and  -Noble 
Numbers  remained  in  the  one  edition,  without  revision, 
without  revelation  of  the  Poet's  mind  about  his  volume, 
and  besides,  an  absolute  after-silence  (except  possible 
anonymous  writing)  of  upwards  of  a  quarter  of  a 
century.  There  are  not  consequently  those  printed 
VARIOUS  READINGS  and  Author's  changes  that  so 
often  (as  in  Spenser,  and  Shakespeare,  and  Daniel, 
and  in  modern  days,  Shelley,  and  Wordsworth,  and 
Tennyson)  reveal  to  us  the  crystallization  of  thought 
and  the  gradual  perfection  of  the  ultimate  poem — 
though,  alas  !  all  too-often  revealing  strange  and 
almost  incredible  deterioration,  e.g.  even  Spenser,  and 
1  )aniel,  and  Wordsworth,  and  Tennyson,  are  found  to 
spoil  the  very  bloom,  and  to  remove  the  fine  powder 


cxxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

of  many  of  their  most  exquisite  fancies.     When  there 
fore  I  propose  to  give  evidence  of  patient  and  genuine 
workmanship,  my  meaning  is  not  to  bring  forth  from 
Hesperides  or  Noble  Numbers  examples  of  supreme  and 
consummate  workmanship.     This  I  shall  do  in  stating 
the  specialities  of  his  Poetry.     Here  and  now,  through 
Manuscripts  that  remain  to  us — none,  unhappily,  auto 
graph — and   through   prior  publication,  as  in  "Wit's 
Recreations"   (1640),   I   wish   to   look  in   upon  the 
Poet  at  his  fine  work,  and  shew,  in  so  far  as  within 
these  limits  can  be  done,  that  Herrick's  genius  was 
too  substantive  and  non-accidental  to  have  given  us  his 
Lyrics  and  rural-breathed  Poems  off-hand  (so-to-say). 
That  is,  admitting  the  apopthegm,  Ars  est  celare  artem, 
I  therein  as  throughout,  there  was  art  as  well  as  genius — 
genius  kindling  and  inspiring  the  flame,  but  art  giving 
it  lustre,  and  setting  it  in  its  'golden  candlestick.'    I 
should  stand  in  doubt  of  the  reality  of  genius  of  any  type 
that  was  sundered  from  the  long  and  ever-aspiring  pa 
tience  of  nicest  and  devoutest  workmanship.  Turning  to 
"  Wit's  Recreations,"  as  might  almost  have  been  antici 
pated,  material  for  the  evidence  now  sought  is  relatively 
scanty.  The  likelihoods  are  that  Herrick  simply  marked 
his  own  Poems  in  a  copy  of  the  book  and  allowed  his 
Publishers  to  transfer  them  from  "  Wit's  Recreations  " 


MEMORIA  [^INTRODUCTION,  cxxxi. 

to  Hesperides  and  Noble  Numbers.  Yet  are  there 
noticeable,  variants  that  are  declarative  of  the 
Author's  revision.  The  following  are  the  sixty-two 
pieces  that  originally  appeared  in  "Wit's  Recreations  " 
— taken  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  found  therein, 
and  on  the  left-hand  side  the  places  in  our  edition  of 
the  Poems  : 

Hesperides.  Wit's  Recreations. 

1.  Vol.  i.  pp. Cherry  Pit  •;'•»     *        p.  457. 

2.  „      „   47-8— Upon  Love .  p.  465. 

3.  „      „    51-2 — TheBagof  the  Bee  pp.  413-4. 

4.  „      „    72-4 — The  Teare  sent  to 

her  from  Stanes.        .  pp.  339-40. 

5.  „      „    76-78 — His  Farewell  to 

Sack.  .     pp.  432-3. 

6.  „      „    103-4 — The  Cruell  Maid    pp.  342-3. 

7.  „      „    106-7 — His  Misery  in  a 

Mistresse  .  .     pp.  344-5. 

8.  „      „    112-13 — A  Ring  presen 

ted  to  Julia       .         .     pp.  321-2. 
9-        »      »    138— Upon  Gubbs.     Epig.       p.  89. 

10.  „      „    144-5— To  the  Virgins, 

to  make  much  of  time   pp.  474-5. 

11.  „      „    170 — Upon  Himselfe    .         p.  465. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Hesperides.  Wit's  Recreations. 

12.  Vol.  I.,  pp.  170-1 — To  the  Rose      .  p.  459. 

13.  „      „    171 — Upon  Guesse.     Epig.  p.  91. 

14.  „      „    171 — Upon    a    painted 

gentlewoman      .         .  .  p.  92. 

1 5.  Vol.  II.  „    2 — How   violets   came 

blew  .  .    pp.  461-2. 

1 6.  „      „    32 — Upon  a  Child  that 

Dyed.         .         .         .  p.  254. 

17.  „      „    42 — Gold  before  Goodnesse  p.  95. 

1 8.  „      „    55 — A  short  Hymne  to 

Venus  p.  457. 

19.  „      „    55-6 — Upon  a    delaying 

Lady  .  .    pp.  346-7. 

20.  „      „    60 — Nothing  Newe         .  p.  96. 

21.  „      „    62 — Long  and  Lazie       .  p.  96. 

22.  „      „    66 — Upon  Wrinkles        .  p*  97. 
23-         „      „    77— Upon  Doll.       Epig.  p.  100. 

24.  „      „    78 — Upon  Skrew.     Epig.  p.  101. 

25.  „      „    84-5— Upon  Raspe.  Epig.  p.m. 

26.  „      „    87-8 — Upon  Himself     .  p.  157. 

27.  „      „    88 — Another          .         .  p.  126. 

28.  „      „    88 — Upon  Skinns.      Epig.  p.  104. 

29.  „      „    90 — Upon  Craw     .         .  p.  no. 

30.  „      „    in — To  Oenone  .         .  p.  475. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cxxxiii. 

Hesperides.  Wit's  Recreations. 

31.  Vol.  II.  pp.  148 — Change  gives  Con 

tent   .         .         .         .  p.  122. 

32.  „      „    156-7 — To  Electra         .  p.  349. 

33.  „      „    172 — Upon  Umber.    Epig.  p.  117. 

34.  „      „    184 — Little  and  Loud    .  p.  167. 

35.  „      „    189-90— To  the  Maides 

to  walk  abroade .         . ,,  p.  366. 

36.  „      „    203 — Upon  a  Child        .  t?  p.  247. 

37.  „      „    206 — Upon  an  old  Man, 

a  Residenciarie  .         .  p.  258. 

38.  „      „    207 — Upon  Cob.     Epig.  p.  118. 

39.  „      „    207 — Upon  Lucie.    Epig.  p.  121. 

40.  „      „    207 — Upon  Skoles.     Epig.  p.  128. 

41.  „      „    217 — Upon  Zelot  .        .  p.  131. 

42.  „      „    218 — Upon  Crab.     Epig.  p.  132. 

43.  „      „    222 — Deniall  in  Women, 

no   disheartening   to 

men  .  .  p.  133. 

44.  „      „    229 — Adversity      .        .  p.  144. 

45.  „      „    247 — Maid's  Nays  are 

nothing      .         .         .  p.  149. 

46.  „      „    250 — Another  upon  her 

weeping     .        .        .  p.  150. 

47-        „      „    256-7— The  Walke         .  p.  372. 


cxxxiv.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Hesperides.  Wit's  Recreations. 

48.  Vol.  II.  pp.  263-4 — A  Hymne  to  Bac 
chus  .  .    pp.  385-6. 

49-        „      „    266— Anger  p.  158. 

50.  „      „    273— Upon  Bice    .  p.  165. 

51.  „      „    274 — Upon  Trencherman  p.  166. 

52.  „      „    274— Kines  p.  170. 

53.  „      „    286 — Upon  Purchin.  Epig.  p.  172. 

54.  „      „    289— Upon  a  Maide      .  p.  259. 
55-        »      »    289— Beauty  p.  176. 

56.  „      „    292 — Satisfaction  for  suf 

ferings  .  p.  177. 

57.  Vol.  III.,,     23 — An  Hymne   to 

Love.  .    pp.  336-7. 

58.  „      „     26 — Leven  .        .  p.  214. 

59.  „      „     55 — Upon Boreman.  Epig.  p.  215. 

60.  „      „     75— Upon  Gut    .        .  p.  148. 

6 1.  „      „     84 — Sauce  for  Sorrowes  p.  116. 

62.  „       „     87— The  Ende  of  his 

Worke        .         .         .  p.  221. 


Looking  now  more  closely  at  the  Poems  and  Epi 
grams,  No.  i  in  "  Wit's  Recreations,"  is  in  the  indirect 
form  thus : — 


ME  MORI  A  L-INTROD  UC  TION.          cxxx  v . 

Cherry-pit. 

"  Nicholas  and  Nell  did  lately  sit 
Playing  for  sport  at  Cherry-pit ; 
They  both  did  throw,  and  having  thrown, 
He  got  the  pit,  and  she  the  stone." 

In  Hesperides  it  is  direct,  as  thus  : — 

"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.'* 

In  No.  2,  which  is  headed  'On  Love,'  for  1.  3  in 
Hesperides,  "To  signifie,  in  love  my  share,"  the  original 
reads,  "  To  tell  me  that  in  love  my  share  "  :  1.  7,  care 
lessly  as  losing  a  rhyme  with  '  he '  reads,  "  That  joynt 
to  ashes  should  be  burnt,"  for  "  That  joynt  to  ashes 
burnt  should  be," — which  ought  perhaps  to  have  been 
adopted  as  our  text.  In  No.  3,  1.  i,  in  "Wit's  Re 
creations  "  has  "  To  have  the  sweet  Bag  of  the  Bee," 
for  "  About  the  sweet  bag  of  a  bee ; "  and  11.  7-8  : 

"  And  taking  from  them  each  his  flame, 

With  myrtle  rods  she  whipt  them." 

for 
"  And  taking  thence  from  each  his  flame, 

With  rods  of  mirtle  whipt  them." 

The  '  About '  in  L  i  is  an  after  change. 


cxxxvi.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

In  No.  4  in  Hesperides  the  more  definite  inscription 
is  "  The  Teare  sent  to  her  from  Stanes,"  that  is  from 
the  royal  residence  there,  is  in  "Wit's  Recreations," 
simply  "  A  Tear  sent  to  his  Mistresse."  Otherwise 
only  the  orthography  and  punctuation  differ.  In  No.  5 
"  His  Farewell  to  Sack  "  of  Hesperides  is  entitled  "  A 
Farewell  to  Sack,"  and  is  enlarged  from  36  lines  to  54 
lines,  but  with  four  remarkable  lines,  in  turn,  omitted. 
So  important  a  poem  in  every  way  as  this  "  Farewell " 
calls  for  a  full  record  of  all  the  variants.  Lines  1-2  for 
those  in  Hesperides : — 

"  Farewell,  thou  thing  time-past  so  knowne,  so  deare 
To  me,  as  blood  to  life  and  spirit :  Neare  " 

in  "  Wit's  Recreations  "  read  :— 

"  Farewell so  true  and  dear 

To  me and  near." 

Line  3,  "  ....  Kindred,  friend  or  wife,"  for  "  Kin 
dred,  friend,  man,  wife;"  1.  4,  " .  .  .  .  Soul  to  the 
body"  for  "Soule  to  body;"  1.  6,  "  Of  the  yet  chast, 
and  undefiled  Bride  "  is  transfigured  in  Hesperides  into 
"  Of  the  resigning  yet  resisting  bride."  The  Master's 
touch  !  LI.  7-8  are  added  : — 

"  The  blisse  of  virgins  ;  foot-prints  of  the  bed  ; 
Soft  speech,  smooth  touch,  the  lips,  the  maiden-head." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cxxxvii. 

LI.  9-10  for  the  original  : — 

"  These  and  a  thousand  more  could  never  be 
More  near,  more  dear,  than  thou  wert  once  to  me  " 

are  altered  to  : — 

"  These,  and  a  thousand  sweets,  co'd  never  be 
So  neare  or  deare  as  thou  wast  once  to  me." 

LI.  1 1-22  are  additions  in  Hesperides  to  which  the  criti 
cal  Student  will  do  well  to  turn.  They  begin,  "O  thou 
the  drink  of  Gods  and  Angels  !  wine,"  and  end, 
"  Vexation  of  the  mind  and  damn'd  despaire."  Line  23 
of  Hesperides,  "  Tis  thou  alone,  who,  with  thy  mystick 
fan,"  at  first  read  "  'Tis  thou  above,  that  .  .  .  ." 
L.  25,  "To  rouse  the  sacred  madnesse,  and  awake," 
was  originally  "  To  raise  the  holy  madnesse."  L.  27 
for  the  later  "flashing"  had  "sketching."  and  1.  28 
"  souls  "  for  "  soule."  Lines  29-36  are  another  notice 
able  addition  in  Hesperides.  Line  37  as  now  reads 
"  But  why  ?  why  longer  do  I  gaze  upon "  for  "  But 
why?  why  longer  do  I  gaze  afar."  L.  39  read  "when  " 
"sure."  LI.  42-3  now  : — 


"  Then  know  that  Nature  bids  thee  goe,  not  I  : 
'Tis  her  erroneous  self  has  made  a  braine" 

originally  ran  : — 

"  Know  then  'tis  Nature  bids  thee  hence,  not  I ; 
'Tis  her  erroneous  self  hath  form'd  my  brain." 


cxxxviii.        MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

L.  45-6  in  Hesperides  read  : — 

"  Prethee,  not  smile, 
Or  smile  more  inly,  lest  thy  looks  beguile." 

Originally  they  were  as  follows,  along  with  four  other 
lines  cancelled  in  Hesperides : — 

"  I  prethee  draw  in 

Thy  gazing  fires,  lest  at  their  sight  the  sin 
Of  fierce  Idolatry  shoot  unto  me,  and 
I  turn  Apostate  to  the  strict  command 
Of  Nature ;  bid  me  now  farewell,  or  smile 
More  ugly,  lest  thy  tempting  looks  beguile." 

L.  47,  for  "  denounc'd  "  read  originally  "  pro- 
nounc't;"  1.  49,  "boldly"  for  "freely;"  L  51  origin 
ally  read  "  And  love,  but  not  taste  thee "  for  "  And 
love  thee,  but  not  taste  thee ;"  1.  53,  for  "  inadult'rate  " 
read  "  inadulterate ;"  and,  finally,  1.  54,  "  Hereafter 
shall  smell  ..."  originally  read  "  Shall  smell  here 
after."  These  various  readings,  insertions  and  the  omis 
sion,  show  how  cunningly  the  Poet  wrought  out  this 
Donne-like  poem — the  omission,  perhaps,  the  most 
suggestive  thing  of  the  whole.  No.  6,  "The  Cruell 
Maid,"  except  in  o^hography  and  punctuation,  as 
always,  in  "Wit's  Recreations  "  only  drops  the  needed 
"  has  "  in  1.  7  of  Hesperides.  No.  7  is  identical  in 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cxxxix. 

both,  save  that  in  "  Wit's  Recreations  "  the  heading  is 
"His  misery"  and  in  Hesperides  "His  misery  in  a  Mis- 
tresse."  No.  8  in  both  is  again  identical,  but  in 
"  Wit's  Recreations  "  the  heading  is  as  follows  : — 


With  a      ((         ))     to  Julia. 


No.  9  is  the  same  in  both.  No.  10  in  "Wit's  Recrea 
tions"  is  inscribed  "To  make  much  of  Time;"  in 
Hesperides,  "  To  the  Virgins,  to  make  much  of  Time  ;" 
and  originally  thus  read  in  ist  and  2nd  : — 

"  Gather  your  Rose-buds  whilst  you  may, 
Old  Time  is  still  a-flying; 
And  that  same  flower  which  smiles  to-day 
Too  morrow  may  be  dying. 
The  glorious  Lamp  of  Heaven,  the  Sun, 
The  higher  he  is  getting, 
The  sooner  will  his  race  be  run, 
And  nearer  to  his  setting." 

The  text  of  Hesperides  reveals  dainty  improving 
touches  (Vol.  I.,  p.  144-5);  the  remaining  stanzas  agree 
in  both.  No.  1 1  in  "  Wit's  Recreations  "  is  headed 
"  On  an  old  Batchelour  "  instead  of  "  Upon  himselfe ;" 
and  in  1.  3  reads  "married"  for  "wedded,"  in  1.  4 
"  one  "  for  "  a  jot,"  and  1.  6  "  Rather  than  mend  me, 


cxl.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

blind  me  quite,"  instead  of  the  later  "  Rather  than 
mend,  put  out  the  light"  No.  12,  "  To  the  Rose,"  in 
st.  ist,  1.  5,  originally  has  "  hath  "  for  "  has ;"  st.  2d, 
1.  i,  "  If  she  frets,  that"  for  "  If  she's  fretfull,  I ;"  1.  3, 
"  struggles  "  for  "  struggle ;"  and  1.  5,  "  although  not 
kill  "  for  "  though  not  to  kill."  Nos.  13  and  14  agree, 
only  for  "  Gentlewoman  "  in  Hesperides  there  was  ori 
ginally  "  Madam."  No.  15,  "How  Violets  came  blew," 
is  of  a  class  that  must  have  been  a  favourite  with 
Herrick.  They  are  anything  but  admirable.  Originally 
this  runs  : — 

How  the  Violets  came  blew. 

The  Violets,  as  poets  tell, 

With  Venus  wrangling  went 
Whether  the  Violets  did  excell 

Or  she  in  sweetest  scent ; 
But  Venus  having  lost  the  day, 

Poor  Girle,  she  fell  on  you, 
And  beat  you  so,  as  some  do  say, 

Her  Blowes  did  make  you  blew." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  2.) 

Besides  the  correction  of  "  Girles  "  for  "  Girle  "  in 
1.  6,  even  this  trifle  shows  revision.  (Vol.  II.,  p.  2.)  Nos. 
1 6  and  1 7  are  the  same  in  both,  but  the  latter  is  originally 
headed  "  A  Foolish  Querie  "  instead  of  "  Gold  before 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxli. 

Goodnesse."  No.  18  in  "Wit's  Recreations  "is  inscribed 
"  A  vow  to  Cupid,"  and  in  Hesperides  "  A  short  hymne 
to  Venus  ;"  and  so  originally  in  1.  i  reads  "  Cupids  " 
for  "  Goddesse,"  1.  2  "  like  Pearl "  for  "  with,"  1.  3 
"  that  I  may  "  for  "  I  may  but,"  1.  5  "  I  do  "  for  "  I 
will."  No.  19  is  alike  in  both,  but  originally  is  headed 
"  A  Check  to  her  delay  "  for  "  Upon  a  delaying 
Lady."  Nos.  20  and  21  are  nearly  identical;  but  I 
can  suppose  that  it  was  with  a  chuckle  that  in  the  latter 
the  Author  removed  the  hyphen  from  "  be-long  "  that 
your  stupid  reader  might  not  catch  the  equivoque. 
No.  2  2  is  headed  originally  "  To  a  stale  Lady,"  and 
in  1.  i  reads  "  Thy  wrinkles  are  no  more."  Nos.  23, 
24,  and  25  are  the  same.  No.  26  curiously  enough  in 
1.  5  of  Hesperides,  "  He  to  work,  or  pray,"  read  origi 
nally  "or  play."  Nos.  27,  28,  and  29  agree.  No.  30, 
"  To  Oenone,"  is  inscribed  originally  "  The  Farewell 
to  Love  and  to  his  Mistresse."  It  is  singular  that  in 
both  in  st.  ist,  1.  2,  "  won  "  should  be  mis-spelled 
"  one,"  and  so  remain,  certes  by  inadvertence  in  my 
own  text.  In  st.  3d,  1.  i,  mis-reads  "  Court  not  both 
or"  for  "Covet  not  both,  but."  No.  31  is  originally 
headed  simply  "  Change,"  but  in  both  are  alike. 
No.  32,  "To  Electra,"  is  originally  addressed  "To 
Julia,"  but  otherwise  both  agree.  Nos.  33  and  34 


cxl.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

blind  me  quite,"  instead  of  the  later  "  Rather  than 
mend,  put  out  the  light."  No.  12,  "  To  the  Rose,"  in 
st.  ist,  1.  5,  originally  has  "  hath  "  for  "  has ;"  st.  2d, 
1.  i,  "  If  she  frets,  that "  for  "  If  she's  fretfull,  I ;"  1.  3, 
''struggles"  for  "struggle;"  and  1.  5,  "although  not 
kill  "  for  "  though  not  to  kill."  Nos.  13  and  14  agree, 
only  for  "  Gentlewoman  "  in  Hesperides  there  was  ori 
ginally  "  Madam."  No.  15,  "How  Violets  came  blew," 
,  is  of  a  class  that  must  have  been  a  favourite  with 
Herrick.  They  are  anything  but  admirable.  Originally 
this  runs  : — 

How  the  Violets  came  blew. 

The  Violets,  as  poets  tell, 

With  Venus  wrangling  went 
Whether  the  Violets  did  excell 

Or  she  in  sweetest  scent ; 
But  Venus  having  lost  the  day, 

Poor  Girle,  she  fell  on  you, 
And  beat  you  so,  as  some  do  say, 

Her  Blowes  did  make  you  blew." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  2.) 

Besides  the  correction  of  "  Girles  "  for  "  Girle  "  in 
1.  6,  even  this  trifle  shows  revision.  (Vol.  II.,  p.  2.)  Nos. 
1 6  and  1 7  are  the  same  in  both,  but  the  latter  is  originally 
headed  "  A  Foolish  Querie  "  instead  of  "  Gold  before 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxli. 

Goodnesse."  No.  18  in  "Wit's  Recreations  "is  inscribed 
"  A  vow  to  Cupid,"  and  in  Hesperides  "  A  short  hymne 
to  Venus ;"  and  so  originally  in  1.  i  reads  "  Cupids " 
for  "  Goddesse,"  1.  2  "  like  Pearl "  for  "  with,"  1.  3 
"  that  I  may  "  for  "  I  may  but,"  1.  5  "  I  do  "  for  "  I 
will."  No.  19  is  alike  in  both,  but  originally  is  headed 
"  A  Check  to  her  delay  "  for  "  Upon  a  delaying 
Lady."  Nos.  20  and  21  are  nearly  identical;  but  I 
can  suppose  that  it  was  with  a  chuckle  that  in  the  latter 
the  Author  removed  the  hyphen  from  "be-long"  that 
your  stupid  reader  might  not  catch  the  equivoque. 
No.  2  2  is  headed  originally  "  To  a  stale  Lady,"  and 
in  1.  i  reads  "  Thy  wrinkles  are  no  more."  Nos.  23, 
24,  and  25  are  the  same.  No.  26  curiously  enough  in 
1.  5  of  Hesperides,  "  He  to  work,  or  pray,"  read  origi 
nally  "or  play."  Nos.  27,  28,  and  29  agree.  No.  30, 
"  To  Oenone,"  is  inscribed  originally  "  The  Farewell 
to  Love  and  to  his  Mistresse."  It  is  singular  that  in 
both  in  st.  ist,  1.  2,  "  won  "  should  be  mis-spelled 
"  one,"  and  so  remain,  certes  by  inadvertence  in  my 
own  text.  In  st.  3d,  1.  i,  mis-reads  "  Court  not  both 
or"  for  "Covet  not  both,  but."  No.  31  is  originally 
headed  simply  "  Change,"  but  in  both  are  alike. 
No.  32,  "To  Electra,"  is  originally  addressed  "To 
Julia,"  but  otherwise  both  agree.  Nos.  33  and  34 


cxlii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

are  the  same,  save  that  in  the  latter  for  "  woman's"  it 
is  originally  "  women's."    No.  35,  "  To  the  Maids  to 
walke  abroade,"  is  originally  inscribed  "  Abroad  with 
the  Maids,"  but  otherwise  is  alike  in  both.     No.  36, 
"  Upon  a  child,"  is  also  left  untouched  in  its  pathetic 
simpleness.     To  have  changed  a  syllable  would  have 
been  as  risky  as  trying  to  pluck  a  dewy  flower  with  any 
hope  of  preserving  the  dew.     Abstention  from  altera 
tion  is  in  such  instances  truer  insight  than  alteration.   I 
have  not  found  anywhere  that  Herrick  changed  his 
wording  in  his  accepted  perfect  work.    No.  37,  "Upon 
an  Old  Man,  a  Residenciarie,"  and  Nos.  38,  39,  40, 
41,  42,  43,  44,  and  45  are  nearly  identical  in  both. 
No.  39  substitutes  "Lucie"  in  Hesperides  for  "  Betty" 
in  "  Wit's  Recreations,"  and  in  No.  40  an  obvious  slip 
of   "  and  blast  "   for    "  one   blast "    is   corrected   in 
Hesperides.     It  is  satisfying  that  only  to  a  slight  extent 
did   Herrick  bestow  an  after-look  on  his   Epigrams. 
No.  46  is  the  couplet  that,  though  it  did  appear  in 
Hesperides,  Mr.  Hazlitt  printed  from  "  Wit's  Recrea 
tions  "  as  a  new  poem.     No.  47,  "  The  Wake,"  is  in 
"Wits'  Recreations"  headed   "  Alvar  and  Anthea  ;" 
otherwise  is  identical  in  both.     There  follows   "  The 
Wake  "  in  "  Wit's  Recreations,"  and  Herrick  probably 
gave  the  new  name  of  "  The  Wake  "   to  the  other 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxliii. 

expressly  to  disown  "  The  Wake  "  that  so  follows  ;  and 
yet  Mr.  Hazlitt  has  "  attributed  "  it  to  him  !  No.  48 
in  Hesperides  removes  an  unneeded  "  a  "  in  1.  4  of  the 
penultimate  stanza.  Nos.  49,  50,  51,  52,  and  53  are 
the  same  in  both,  except  in  Hesperides  a  lacking  "  the  " 
is  supplied  in  No.  52.  No.  54,  "  Upon  a  Maide,"  is 
again  characteristically  left  untouched.  Nos.  55  and  56 
are  once  more  identical,  only  the  latter  was  originally 
inscribed  "Satisfaction."  Nos.  57,  58,  59,  60,  61,  and 
62  are  alike  in  both;  but  in  No.  62  the  heading  is 
"  Of  this  Booke."  It  is  surely  declarative  of  perfunc 
tory  study  of  Herrick  that  the  present  edition  is  the 
first  to  bring  to  light  these  various  readings.  Mr. 
Hazlitt  contented  himself  with  lazily  remarking :  "  Six 
or  eight  other  poems  [i.e.,  in  addition  to  those  which 
we  have  seen  are  not  Herrick's  at  all]  also  occur,  but 
the  text  presents  no  noticeable  variations  from  that  given 
in  the  common  printed  collection  "  (I.  vi.)  and  noting 
a  few  of  the  altered  headings. 

Passing  now  to  those  Poems  that  are  preserved  in 
MSS. — public  and  private — it  is  of  the  deepest  interest 
to  read  these  earlier  texts  in  the  light  of  that  adopted 
and  published  in  Hesperides.  Mr.  Hazlitt  has  a  section 
in  his  edition  called  "  Different  Versions  of  Poems 
already  Printed,"  and  there  is  one  other  somewhat 


cxliv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

noticeable.     I  am  not  aware  that  any  of  these  have 

been  submitted  to  critical  examination  or  comparison. 

The  first  is  in  Harleian  MS.,  6917,  fol.  10,  and  is  an 

early   version    of    the    brilliant    "  Nuptiall    Song,    or 

Epithalamie   on   Sir   Clipseby    Crew   and  his  Lady  " 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  12-20).  The  opening  of  this  poem  has  been 

cited  to  show  that  Milton  had  read  it  and  remembered 

,  it  in  his  choruses  in  "Samson  Agonistes."     I  cannot 

. 

say  that  I  discern  such  remembrance  or  use  of  this 
"  Epithalamie ;"  but  it  has  all  Milton's  early  luscious- 
ness  and  stateliness.  In  1.  3  "  faire  injewel'd  May " 
was  originally  written  "  faire  enamelPd  May,"  and  1.  10 
for  "emergent"  reads  "emerging."  Inl.  14  for  "Tread 
ing  upon  vermilion  "  there  was  "  Throwing  about  ver 
milion."  The  following  entire  stanza  was  rejected  in 
Hesperides  just  after  the  preceding  : — 

"  Lead  on  faire  paranymphs,  the  while  her  eyes 
Guilty  of  somewhat,  ripe  the  strawberries 

And  cherries  in  her  cheekes  ;  there's  creame 
Already  spillt,  her  rayes  must  gleame 

Gently  Thereon, 
And  soe  begett  lust  and  temptation, 

To  surfeit  and  to  hunger; 

Helpe  on  her  pace,  and,  though  she  lagg,  yet  stirre 
Her  homewards  ;  well  she  knowes 
Her  heart's  at  home  howere  she  goes." 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxlv. 

In  the  next  stanza,  1.  4,  for  the  original,  perhaps  more 
realistic  "  Spirting  forth  pounded  cinnamon,"  Hesperi- 
des  gave  '  perspiring,'  and  in  1.  7,  "Who  would  not  then 
consume  "  for  the  later  "  Who  therein  wo'd  not  con 
sume."  In  the  succeeding  stanza  the  MS.  mis-spells 

*  margerum'  for  'marjoram'  (1.  2);  and  in  1.  4,  reads 

*  thy'  for  '  the  bridegroom,'  and  1.  6  'besparckling'  for 
1  disparkling;'  and  in  the  last  line  "  Or  like  a  firebrand 
he  will  waste,"  for  "  Or  else  to  ashes  he  will  waste." 
Then  comes  in  this  fragmentary  stanza,  which  again  is 
omitted  in  Hesperides  : — 

"  See  how  he  waves  his  hand,  and  though  his  eyes 
Shootes  forth  his  iealous  soule,  for  to  surprize 
And  ravish  you,  his  bride  :  do  you 
Not  now  perceiue  the  soule  of  C.  C.    =Clipseby 
Your  mayden  knight  [Crew. 


With  kisses  to  inspire 

You  with  his  iust  and  holy  ire." 

The  next  stanza  in  the  MS.  begins,  "  If  so  glide 
through  the  ranks  of  virgins,  passe,"  for  "  Slide  by  the 
bankes  of  virgins  then,  and  passe," — the  latter  giving  her 
the  motion  of  a  stream.  In  1.  IQ  Hesperides  substitutes 
"  as  doth  a  fish,"  for  "  as  doe  the  fish."  Once  more  an 
omitted  stanza  succeeds  : — 
k 


cxlvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  Why  then  goe  forward  sweet  auspicious  bride, 
And  come  upon  your  bridegroome  like  a  tyde, 
Bearing  downe  time  before  you,  hye 
Swell,  mixe,  and  loose  your  sailes ;  implye 

Like  streames  which  flow 
Encurlld  together,  and  noe  difference  show 

In  their  silver  waters  ;  runne 
Into  your  selues  like  wooll  together  spunne  ; 
Or  blend  so  as  the  sight 
Of  two  makes  one  hermaphrodite.*' 

In  the  following  stanza  1.  i  has  originally  "  confesse 
you  wise,"  for  "confesse  y'are  wise,"  and  the  change 
gives  that  ripple  in  the  flow  of  his  rhythm,  which 
Herrick  loved  and  affected.  In  1.  2  for  the  later,  "  In 
dealing  forth  those,"  he  had  written,  "  In  drawing 
forth  those."  The  felicitous  close  of  this  stanza  was 
worked  out,  not  struck  out  as  at  a  heat.  The  MS.  has 

"  On  then,  and  though  y'are  slow 
In  going,  yet  however  goe." 

In  Hesperides  with  cunning  imitativeness  of  the  linger 
ing  yet  wistful  motion,  it  reads  : — 

"  On  then,  and  though  you  slow- 
Ly  go,  yet,  howsoever,  go." 

|  The  divided  word  here  and  elsewhere  is  a  trick  caught 


MEMORIA  ^INTRODUCTION,  cxlvii. 

from  his  favorite  Catullus.  Two  omitted  stanzas  come 
next  :— 

"  How  long  soft  bride  shall  your  deare  [Brides'-maids] 

make 

Loue  to  your  welcome  with  the  mistick  cake, 
How  long,  oh  pardon,  shall  the  house 
And  the  smooth  handmaids  pay  their  vowes, 

With  oyle  and  wine, 
For  your  approach,  yet  see  their  altars  pine  ? 

How  long  shall  the  page,  to  please 
You,  stand  for  to  surrender  up  the  keyes 
Of  the  glad  house  ?  come,  come, 
Or  Lar  will  freeze  to  death  at  home. 

Welcome  at  last  unto  the  threshold,  Time 
Throaned  in  a  saffron  euening,  seemes  to  chyme 
All  in ;  kisse,  and  so  enter  ;  if 
A  prayer  must  be  said,  be  brief ; 

The  easy  gods 
For  such  neglect,  haue  only  myrtle  rodds 

To  stroake  not  strike  ;  feare  you 

Not  more,  milde  nymph,  then  they  would  haue  you  doe ; 
But  dread  that  you  doe  more  offend 
In  that  you  doe  beginne,  then  end." 

In  stanza  yth,  L  6  originally  read : — 

"  Us  (and  God  shield  her) " 

changed  into  "  The  house  (love  shield  her)  "....;  in 
1.  10,  '  has'  for  'your.'  Again  two  omitted  stanzas  are 
here  in  the  MS. : — 


cxlviii .  ME  MORI  A  L-INTROD  UCTION. 


"  What  though  your  laden  altar  now  has  wonne 
The  creditt  from  the  table  of  the  sunne 
For  earth  and  sea ;  this  cost 
On  you  is  altogether  lost, 

Because  you  feede 
Not  on  the  flesh  of  beasts,  but  on  the  seede 

Of  contemplation,  your 
Your  eyes  are  they,  wherewith  you  draw  the  pure 

Elixar  to  the  minde, 

Which  sees  the  body  fedd,  yet  pined. 

If  you  must  needs  for  ceremonies  sake 
Blesse  a  sacke  possett,  lucke  goe  with  you,  take 
The  night  charme  quickly,  you  have  spells 
And  magick  for  to  ende,  and  hells 

To  passe,  but  such, 
And  of  such  torture,  as  noe  God  would  grudge 

To  Hue  therein  for  euer,  frye, 
I,  and  consume,  and  grow  againe,  to  dye 

And  Hue,  and  in  that  case 

Love  the  damnation  of  that  place." 

In  the  succeeding  stanza,  1.  i,  for  'kind  truths'  the 
MS.  writes  '  sweet ' :  1.  2  drops  in  MS.  '  and,'  and  in  1. 
3  begins  '  And '  for  '  But ' :  1.  6,  '  Hearing  '  for  '  Tell 
ing.'  In  the  next  stanza,  1.  2  originally  reads  "  noe  " 
for  "  no  strife,"  and  1.  3,  "  Further  then  vertue  lends  " 
for  "  Further  then  gentlenes  tends  "  :  1.  4,  '  catching 
at '  for  '  striving  for ' :  1.  8,  '  gentle '  and  '  fragrous '  for 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxlix. 

*  youthfull'  -  and  'fragrant.'  In  stanza  nth,  11.  5-6, 
which  originally  read 

"  List,  oh  how 
Euen  heauen  giues  up  his  soule  betweene  you  now  " 

are  changed  into  :  — 

"  O  marke  yee  how 
The  soule  of  Nature  melts  in  numbers  ;  now  "  : 

1.  7,  "  Marke  how  "  for  "  See  a."  In  the  next  stanza, 
1.  2  originally  has  '  rising  '  for  the  later  '  swelling,'  and 
in  line  3, 

"  Tempting  thee  too  too  modest  " 

for  Hesperides 

"  Tempting  the  two  too  modest  "  : 
1.  7,  '  hugge  you  '  for  '  hugge  it  '  :  11.  8-9, 

"  Your  selues  unto  that  mayne,  in  the  full  flow 
Of  the  white  pride  " 

for 

"  Your  selues  into  the  mighty  over-flow    - 
Of  that  white  pride  "  : 


1.  10,  '  The  Starrs  '  for  '  The  night.'  Stanza  isth,  L  i  in 
MS.  reads  "You  see  'tis  ready"  for  "The  bed  is 
ready  "  :  1.  7,  "  And  doe  it  in  the  full  reach  "  for  "  And 
do  it  to  the  full  ;  reach  "  :  1.  8,  "  High  in  your  owne 


cl.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

conceipts,  and  rather  teach  "  for  "  High  in  your  con- 
ceipt,  and  some  way  teach"  :  1.  10,  'Sport'  for  ' Play.' 
In  Hesperides  there  follows  next  the  second  of  the  last 
two  omitted  stanzas  before  "If  you  must  needs,"  &c., 
with  only  one  noticeable  reading  in  the  last  line  of '  con 
fusion  '  for '  damnation ' — not  an  improvement  if  it  be  a 
softening  of  the  passionate  thought.  In  the  MS.  is 
here  another  omitted  stanza  : 

"  And  now  y'haue  wept  enough,  depart,  yon  starres 
Begin  to  pinke,  as  weary  that  the  warres     =grcnv  small 
Know  so  long  treaties ;  beate  the  drumme 
Aloft,  and  like  two  armies,  come 

And  guild  the  field ; 
Fight  brauely  for  the  flame  of  mankinde,  yeeld 

Not  to  this,  or  that  assault, 
For  that  would  proue  more  heresy  then  fault, 

In  combatants  to  flye, 

Fore  this  or  that  hath  gott  the  victory." 

In  stanza  15, 1.  3,  originally,  it  reads  "with  ribbe  of 
rocke  and  brasse  "  for  the  later  "  with  rock  or  walles  of 
brasse  " :  and  in  the  last  line  '  sheetes '  for  '  sheet ' 
oblivious  of  line  2d.  In  the  closing  stanza,  line  28,  for 
the  Hesperides  misprint  of  '  that,  that '  the  MS.  reads 
*  that  the.'  In  the  place  I  corrected  it  preferably  with 
'two'  as  in  the  next  line.  The  MS.  is  signed  "R. 
Herrick."  It  will  reward  the  Student  to  ponder  and 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cli. 

compare  these  abundant  various  readings,  and  to  con 
sider  the  opulence  that  could  dispense  with  the  omis 
sions.  There  are  bits  in  the  omissions  that  one  is 
grateful  to  have  from  the  MS.,  although  as  a  whole  the 
Poet  showed  nicety  of  taste,  as  well  as  sound  judgment 
in  erasing  them.  The  next  Poem,  "  Herrick's  Sack," 
in  the  Rawlinson  MS.  poet  142,  is  an  imperfect  copy 
of  his  "  Welcome  to  Sack."  I  have  recorded  its  very 
unimportant  variants  in  my  examination  of  the  text  in 
"  Wit's  Recreations,"  compared  with  the  fuller  version 
in  Hesperides*  A  third  MS.,  viz.  Ashmole  38,  p.  90, 
Art.  no,  is  a  similar  inaccurate  copy  of  his  great  poem 
to  his  brother,  Thomas  Herrick.  It  is  headed,  "  In 
praise  of  the  Country  Life."  Most  of  the  various 
readings  are  the  Scribe's  blunders,  and  call  for  no 
detailed  notice ;  but  here  and  there,  certain  enable 
us  to  follow  the  shaping  of  the  final  text,  e.g.  1.  3, 
"  Canst  leave  the  cittie,  with  exchange,  to  see,"  for 
"Couldst  leave  the  city,  for  exchange,  to  see  ":  1.  10, 
"  Wayes  not  to  liue  but  to  liue  well,"  for  "  Wayes 
lesse  to  live  then  to  live  well  "  :  1.  22,  "  That  mange," 
for  "  That  plague  "  :  1.  23,  "  sparing,"  for  "  wane  "  : 
1.  26,  "quench,"  for  "  coole."  In  the  MS.,  1L  28-30 
do  not  appear,  and  instead  this  couplet : — 

8  See  pages  cxxxvi-viii. 


clii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"  The  first  is  Naturs  end  :  this  doth  imparte 
Least  thankes  to  Nature,  most  to  art  "  : 

Line  31  reads,  "  But  that  which  next  creates  thy 
happye  life,"  for  "  But  that  which  most  makes  sweet 
thy  country  life  "  :  and  there  follow  in  these  MSS.  two 
omitted  lines  : — 

"  And  in  thy  sense  her  chaster  thoughtes  commend 
Not  halfe  soe  much  the  act,  as  end  "  : 

— a  wise  omission  certainly.  Line  43  reads  in  the  MS., 
'  crawling  '  for  '  feebly  '  :  1.  46,  '  bediapered  '  for 
'enameled':  1.  51,  '  vowes  '  for  'comes':  1  52, 
"  rau'nous  wolfe  the  wolly  sheep,"  for  "  rav'ning  wolves 
the  fleecie  sheep":  1-55,  'selfe'  [not  'sleepe/  as  in 
Mr.  Hazlitt's]  for  <  rest ' :  1.  57, '  Crowes  '  for  '  Warnes ' : 
1.  60,  'crackling'  for  'spirting'  :  1.  61,  'thumb  thus' 
for  '  thumb  this  sentence  ' :  1.  61,  '  Jove  '  for  '  God ' : 
1.  65,  '  farthest  Inde '  for  '  Western  Inde  ' :  1.  66,  '  lye ' 
for  '  fly ' :  1.  68, '  securer '  for  '  securest ' :  1.  70, '  better  ' 
for  '  whiter  '  :  1.  78,  '  Viewing  '  for  '  Seeing  '  :  1.  79, 
"  By  their  shadowes,  their  substances,"  for  "  By  those 
fine  shades,  their  substances  "  :  1.  80,  '  borrowing '  for 
'  taking  small  '  :  1.  81,  '  seal'd  '  for  '  deafe  '  :  1.  85, 
'  Fame  tells  the  states '  [not  '  of/  as  in  Mr.  Hazlitt's] 
for  '  Fame  tell  of  states ' :  1.  90,  "  Vice  is  vicegerent 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cliii. 


at  the  courte,"  for  "  Vice  rules  the  most,  or  all  at 
court  "  :  1.  91,  '  godly '  for  '  pious  ' :  1.  92,  '  Vertue  had 
moued  jn  her  sphere  '  for  '  Vertue  had,  and  mov'd  her 
sphere.'  Here  follow  these  omitted  lines  in  the  MS: — 

"  Nor  knowe  thy  happye  and  vn-enuey'd  state 

Owes  more  to  vertue  then  too  fate,  =  to 

Or  fortune  too ;  for  what  the  first  secures, 
That  as  herselfe,  or  Heauen,  indures. 

The  two  last  fayle,  and  by  experience  make 
Knowne,  not  they  giue  againe,  they  take  "  : 

Then  1.  93  reads,  "  But  thou  not  fearest  them,"  for 
"  But  thou  liv'st  fearlesse":  1.  95,  '  hopes  stronge  built,' 
for  '  thoughts  prepaid  ' :  1.  96,  '  For  to  salute  her,'  for 
*  To  take  her  by ' :  1.  99,  'sturdye'  for  'surly' — the  latter 
a  mistaken  reading  certainly  :  1.  101,  '  braue  '  for 
'  bold ' :  1.  109,  '  toothe '  for  ' mouth  ' :  1.  1 1 1,  '  cheer  ' 
for  'fare':  and  1.  112,  'deare'  for  'rare.'  Here  next 
comes  (after  1.  1 1 6)  in  the  MS.  this  omitted  couplet : — 

"  Canst  drinke  in  earthen  cuppes  which  ne're  contayne 
Colde  hemlocke,  or  the  lizzards  bane  "  : 

1.  117,  "Nor  is  ytt  fitt  thou  keep'st, "  for  "Nor  is  it 
that  thou  keep'st"  :  1.  128,  '  build  '  for  '  make  ' :  1.  132, 
'flye'  for  'shun':  1.  135,  " neate,  firme,  close,  and 
true,"  for  ''and  close,  and  wisely  true":  1.  145,  "Till 


cliv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

then,  lett  faith  soe  prompt  your  Hues   yee  may,"  for 
"  Till  when,  in  such  assurance,  live  ye  may." 

The  next  MS.,  viz.  Ashmole  38,  p.  93,  Art.  in,  is 
headed,  "  Mr.  Herricke  his  Charge  to  his  Wife."  Had 
this  not  been  included  in  Hesperides,  we  should 
naturally  have  concluded  that  it  was  by  that  cousin 
Robert  Herrick  whose  marriage  Mi.  J  Payne  Collier 
having  stumbled  on,  he  at  once  set  down  as  me  Poet's, 
forgetful  of  all  the  facts.9  Besides  the  Ashmole  MS., 
the  Kingsborough-Hazelwood  MS.  of  my  friend  W.  F. 
Cosens,  Esq.,  London,  has  another  version.  Both 
pretty  closely  follow  the  same  text.  Neither  offers  much 
worthy  of  special  record  ;  but  the  following  may  in 
terest  from  Mr.  Cosens  MS.  : — 1.  4,  'woers  by  thy 
haire  '  for  '  thousands  with  a  haire '  :  1.  10,  *  things  '  for 
'that':  1.  1 8,  'beauty 'for  '  feature':  1.  24,  "emblems 
which  express  the  itch "  for  "  are  the  expressions  of 
that  itch"  :  11.  27-8: 

9  Bibliographical  Account  I.  370.  Mr.  Collier's  record  is  :  "  As 
a  small,  but  new  contribution  to  the  biography  of  Herrick,  we  may 
add  here  the  registration  of  his  marriage  at  St.  Clement's  Danes, 
Westminster: — '5  June,  1632.  Robert  Herrick  and  Jane 
Gibbons.'  All  that  we  have  hitherto  known,  we  believe,  is  that 
the  Christian  name  of  his  wife  was  Jane."  Contrariwise,  all  that 
we  have  hitherto  known,  and  still  know,  is  that  Herrick  lived  and 
died  a  bachelor. 


ME  MORI  A  L- 1  NT  ROD  UC  TION.  cl  v. 


"  For  that  once  lost  thou  needs  must  fail 
To  one,  then  prostitute  to  all  " 

for 

"  For  that  once  lost,  thou't  fall  to  one 
Then  prostrate  to  a  million  "  : 

Lines  11-16  of  Hesperides  that  follow  the  last  couplet 
in  the  MS.,  and  closing  thus  : — 

"  And  thinke,  each  man  thou  seest  doth  dome 
Thy  thoughts  to  say  I  backe  am  come  "  : 

Lines  38-9, 

"  Let  them  call  thee  wondrous  faire 
Crowne  of  woeman,  yett  despaire  " 

for 

"  Let  them  enstile  thee  fairest  faire 
The  pearle  of  princes,  yet  despair  "  : 

1.  47,  '  vertuous'  for  'gentle  ' :  11.  55-6  : 

"  Thy  fortres,  and  must  needs  prevaile 
Gainst  thee  and  force  " 

for 

"  Thy  fortress,  and  will  needs  prevaile  : 
And  wildly  force  "  : 

1.  65,  «  Creates  '  for  '  That  makes  ' :  1.  67,  '  Glory'  for 


clvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

1  Triumph  '  :  1.  70,  '  Take  my  last  regret '  for  '  Take 
this  compression  ' :  1.  79,  '  Sharp '  for  '  Lean ' :  1.  80, 
"  In  my  full  triumph  "  for  "  its  one  triumphant  "  :  1.  81, 
"  In  thee,  the  height,"  for  "  In  thee  all  faith." 

In  Harleian  MS.  6917,  fol.  48  (verso)  is  an  early  copy 
of  the  supreme  "  Mad  Maid's  Song,"  than  which  nothing 
out  of  the  snatches  put  in  the  mouth  of  Ophelia  is 
more  conquering  in  its  simple  pathos.  The  variants  are 
slight,  e.g.  st.  i,  1.  2,  ' morrow '  for  ' morning'  (repeated) : 
1.  4,  <  All  dabbled  '  for  '  Bedabled '  :  st.  2,  1.  3,  <  teares ' 
for  '  flowers ' :  1.  4,  '  was  '  for  '  is  ' :  st.  5,  1.  i,  '  I  hope  ' 
for  '  I  know':  st.  7,  1.  2,  '  balsome  '  for  '  cow-slips.' 
Perhaps  the  substitution  of  '  morning  '  in  Hesperides 
for  '  morrow '  was  a  mistake  :  and  '  tears '  for  '  flowers ' : 
and  at  least  '  balsome '  for  '  cow-slips '  had  been  pre 
ferable. 

The  next  MS.,  "  Charon  and  the  Nightingale,"  from 
Rawlinson  MS.,  poet  65,  fol.  32,  is  a  fuller  copy  of 
"Charon  and  Phylomel,  a  Dialogue  sung,"  of  Hes 
perides  (Vol.  II. ,  pp.  244-5).  Only  11.  i — 26  are  in 
Hesperides — the  remainder  is  additional.  Before  giving 
the  additions,  these  variants  between  the  MS.  and 
Hesperides  text  of  the  opening  portion,  call  for  record, 
passing  over  others  of  trivial  moment : — 1.  5,  '  voice ' 
for  '  sound ' :  1.  6,  '  what '  for  '  where  ' :  1.  7,  '  shade  ' 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  civil. 

for  'bird':  1.  n,  'warbling'  for  'watching':  1.  12, 
1  made  me  hoist  up  sail '  for  '  made  me  thus  hoist 
saile':  1.  13,  Tie  be  gone'  for  Tie  returne':  1.  18, 
'  praise '  for  '  pray ' :  1.  19,  *  sighs '  for  '  vowes  ' :  1.  22, 
'  in '  for  '  with ' :  1.  24,  «  Our  passage  '  for  *  Our  '  sloth- 
full  passage.'  The  new  MS.  commences  after  1.  26, 
"  Who  els  with  tears  wo'd  doubtless  drown  my  ferry  " 
(in  MS.  "  our  wherry") — as  thus  : — 

"  A  boat,  a  boat,  hast  to  the  ferry, 
For  we  goe  over  to  be  merry, 
To  laugh  &  quaff  and  drink  old  sherry. 
[Phil]    Charon,  O  Charon,  the  wafter  of  all  soules  to  bliss 

or  bain, 

[Char.]  Who  calls  the  ferryman  of  Hell  ? 
[Phil.]    Come  neer  &  say  who  lives  in  bliss  &  who  in  pain  : 
[Char.]  Those  that  dye  well  eternall  bliss  shall  follow, 

Those  that  dye  ill,  their  own  black  deeds  shall 

swallow. 
[Phil.]    Shall  thy  black  barg  those  guilty  spirits  row 

That  kill  themselves  for  love?   [Char.]  Oh  no,  oh 

no, 

My  cordage  cracks  when  such  foule  sins  draw  neer, 
No  winde  blows  fair  nor  I  my  boat  can  steer. 
[Phil.]    What  spirits  pass  &  in  elizium  reign  ? 
[Char]  Those  harmless  soules  that  love  &  are  belovd  again. 
[Phil.]    That  soule  that  lives  in  love  &  faign  would  dye  to 

win 

Shall  he  goe  free  ?    [Char.]   Oh  no,  it  is  too  foul  a 
sin. 


clviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

He  must  not  come  aboard,  I  dare  not  row, 

Storms  of  dispair  my  boat  will  over-blow. 

But  when  thy  m?  shall  close  up  thine  eys  then  come 

aboard  =misery 

Then  come  aboard  &  pass;    till  then  be  wise  & 

synge." 

It  will  be  observed  by  the  critical  reader  that  there  is 
a  resemblance  in  thought  in  this  MS.  portion  to  the 
"New  Charon"  (Vol.  III.,  p.  no).  But  whether  it 
be  or  be  not  Herrick's,  it  does  not  agree  with  the 
former  part ;  for  in  it  she  is  a  shade,  and  in  this  she  is 
not  dead.  Perhaps  the  explanation  is  that  this  portion 
may  have  been  a  first  sketch,  and  the  other  an  expan 
sion  j  and  that  afterwards  the  thought  in  the  later  was 
used  in  the  "  New  Charon."  I  ask  if  the  inserted 
song,  "  A  boat,  a  boat,"  &c.,  be  not  a  catch  that  does 
not  belong  to  Herrick  ?  and  I  note  that  the  unfinished 
character  of  the  MS.  is  shown  by  the  last  couplet  not 
rhyming. 

Rawlinson  MS.  147  Poet.  p.  14,  gives  us  an  interest 
ing  variant  of  "  To  a  Gentlewoman  objecting  to  him 
his  Grey  Haires  "  (Vol.  I.  p.  107)  as  thus  : — 

"An  old  Man  to  his  yon ge  Mrs. 
Am  I  despis'd  because  you  say 
And  I  beleiue  that  I  am  gray  ? 
Know  lady  you  haue  but  your  day, 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clix. 

And  night  will  come  when  man  will  sweare 
Time  hath  spitt  now  upon  your  hayre. 
Then  when  in  your  glasse  you  seeke, 
And  find  no  roses  on  your  cheeke, 
No,  nor  the  bud  at  least  to  show, 
Where  such  a  fayre  carnation  grew, 
And  such  a  smiling  tulippe  too. 
Ah  !  then  too  late  close  in  your  chamber  keeping, 

It  will  be  told 

That  you  are  old, 
By  those  true  teares  y'are  weepinge." 

We  have  now  reached  the  "  Fairy  "  Poems,  and  it 
is  of  rarest  interest  to  mark  the  fine  and  subtle  working 
on  these  most  dainty  and  delicate-fancied  productions 
of  Herrick's  imaginative  vein.  The  first  is  "  King 
Oberon's  Pallace."  Mr.  Hazlitt  prints  it  in  his  Appen 
dix  (Vol.  II.  pp.  466-470),  but  has  neglected  to  state 
whence  he  derived  it.  It  is  found  in  Ashmole  MS.  38, 
p.  101  and  1 1 8.  This  MS.  omits  the  opening  (11.  1-8). 
Thereafter,  1.  9,  reads  "  Of  peltish  waspes,  well  knowne 
his  guarde  "  for  the  less  accurate  "  we'l  know  his 
guard  "  of  Hesperides ;  11.  20-1,  "  the  grass  of  Lemster 
ore,  soberlye  sparkling,"  for  "the  finest  Lemster  ore 
mildly  desparkling,"  1.  29,  "  girdle"  for  "ceston": 
1.  30,  "  The  eyes  of  all  doth  straight  bewitch  "  for  "  All 
with  temptation  doth  bewitch."  After  1.  37  the  MS. 
inserts  these  twenty-seven  singular  enumerative  lines  : — 


clx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  And  further  of,  some  sorte  of  peare, 
Apple  or  plume  is  neatly  layde  =plum 

(As  yf  yt  were  a  tribute  payde) 
By  the  round  vrchin ;  l  some  mixt  wheat 
The  which  the  ant  did  taste,  not  eate  : 
Deafe  nutts,2  softe  lewes-eares,  and  some  thinne 
Chipping,  the  mice  filcht  from  the  binn 
Of  the  graye  farmer ;  and  to  theis 
The  scrappes  of  lentells,  chitted  pease, 
Dryed  hony-combes,  browne  acorne  cupps, 
Out  of  the  which  hee  sometymes  sups 
His  hearby-broath  ;  and  theis  close  by 
Are  puckered  bullas,  cankers,  and  dry 
Kernells  and  withered  hawes;  the  rest 
Are  trinketts  falne  from  the  kytes  neast, 
As  buttered  bread,  the  which  the  wilde 
Birde  snatcht  away  from  the  crying  childe  ; 
Blew  pynes,  taggs,  sepcus,  beades  and  things 
Of  higher  price,  as  halfe  jett  rings, 
Ribands,  and  then  some  silken  shreakes 
To  virgines  lost  att  barlye  breakes ; 
Many  a  purse- stringe,  manye  a  threade 
Of  gould  and  silver  there  is  spread. 


Lyes  here  about ;  and  as  wee  ghesse, 
Some  bitte  of  thymbles  seeme  to  dresse 
The  braue  cheafe  worke ;   and  for  to  faue 
The  easie  excellence  of  the  caue 
Squirrells,  &c." 

1  *=  hedge-hog  rolled  up.         2  =  hollow  nuts. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxi. 

Then  comes  substantially  the  same  as  in  Hesperides, 
but  with  certain  variations — e.g.t  1.  47  in  the  MS.  reads 
"  Serue  here,  bothe  which  in-chequered  "  for  "  Are 
neatly  here  enchequered,"  and  then  the  continuation 
runs  : — 

"  With  castors  doucettes  (which  poore  thay 
Bitt  off  themselues,  to  scape  away) 
Browne  toade-stones,  ferrettes  eyes,  the  gumm  "  : 

1.  51,  "  Hand  enchasing  here  those  wartes  "  for  "  With 
hand  enchasing  here  those  warts" :  1.  55,  'slye'  badly  for 
<shie':  1.  6  2, 'richly 'for 'neatly':  1.  64,  'roche'  for'fish': 
1.  69,  '  caue '  for  '  roome  ' :  1.  70,  "  Can  gett  reflection 

from  their  jemmes  "  for  "  Can  make  reflected  " : 

1.  73,  *  Candle-masse '  for  '  taper-light ' :  1.  80,  '  con- 
uenient '  for  '  obedient ' :  1.  84,  *  whiter '  for  '  luckie  ' : 
1.  88,  '  spungie '  for  '  spunge-like ' :  1.  98,  "  Wee  call 
the  files  of  mayden-heades  "  for  "  Broke  at  the  losse  of 
maiden-heads  "  :  1.  99,  '  soft  '  for  '  pure  '  :  1.  100, 
'Which*  for  'Dropt':  1.  101,  'are  shed  when'  for 
'  when  panting  ' :  1.  112,'  yearne  '  for  '  flax.' 

The  next  '  Fairy  '  poem  is  "  Kinge  Oberon's  Feast," 
from  Ashmole  MS.  38,  p.  100,  Art.  117.  As  in  the 
former,  the  MS.  omits  the  opening,  (11.  1-6)  and  begins 


1 


clxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  A  little  mushromp  table  spread 
After  the  dance  "  :— 

for 

"  A  little  mushroome  table  spred, 
After  short  prayers  *' : — 

11.3-4:- 

"  A  yeallowe  corne  of  heckey  wheate 
With  some  small  sandye  greets;  to  eate"     =grits 

for 

"  A  moon-parcht  grain  of  purest  wheat 
With  some  small  glitt'ring  gritt,  to  eate  "  : 

1.  8,  "Wee  dare  not  thinke"  for  "We  must  not  think": 
1.  10,  "His  fier,  the  pittering  grasshopper"  for  "His 
spleen,  the  chirring  grasshopper  " :  1.  1 1,  '  prussing  *  for 
*  puling/  After  1.  1 2  comes  an  omitted  couplet : 

"  The  humming  dor,  the  dyinge  swann, 
And  each  a  choyse  musitian  "  : 

1.  1 6,  '  besweeted '  for  l  besweetned ' :  11.  21-21 


-"  but  with  a  little 


Neate  cole  alaye  of  cvckoes  spittle," 

for  "Of  that  we  call  "  :  1.  25-8  :— 

"  but  hee  not  spares 


To  feed  vppon  the  candide  hayres 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxiii. 

Of  a  dryed  canker,  with  a  sagg 

And  well  bee-strutted  bee's  sweet  bagg  " 

for 


-"  but  then  forthwith 


He  ventures  boldly  on  the  pith 

Of  sugred  rush,  and  eates  the  sagge,"  &c. 

I.  29,  "  Shocking"  for  "  Gladding."    Then  come  these 
five  lines  that  are  in  part  inserted  a  little  onward  in 
Hesperides : — 

"  A  pickled  magget  and  a  drye 
Hipp,  with  a  red-cappt  worme  that's  shutt 
Within  the  carcasse  of  a  nutt, 
Browne  as  his  tooth  :  and  with  the  fatt 
And  well  broyl'd  inch-pin  of  a  batt"  : 

II.  32-3  read 

"  A  bloated  eare-wigg,  with  the  pythe 
Of  sugred  rush,  he  gladds  hym  with  " 

for 

"  A  bloated  earewig,  and  a  flie ; 
With  the  red-capt  worme,"  &c., 

and  then  follow  these  lines  (in  the  MS) : — 

"  But  most  of  all  the  glow-worme's  fier 
(As  much  bewitching  his  desire 
To  knowe  his  queene)  must  with  the  fair 
Fetcht  binding  ielley  of  a  stair, 
The  silke  wormes  seed  " 


clxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

1.  42,  'fruittfulT  for  *  flattering '—the  latter  used  re 
peatedly  by  Herrick  (in  III.  "  Golden  Apples  ") :  1.  45, 
'adaysy  challice'  for  'a  dainty  daizie.'  This  Poem 
appeared  originally  in  a  small  volume  more  than  once 
mentioned  by  us,  viz.,  "  A  Description  of  the  King  and 
Queene  of  Fayries,"  &c.  (1635) ;  and  this  probably  was 
Herrick's  first  printed  production.  The  first  form  was 
very  imperfect,  and  I  deem  it  expedient  to  reprint  it 
here  literatim  for  comparison — as  thus  : — 

"A  Description  of  his  Dyet. 
Now  they  the  Elves  within  a  trice, 
Prepar'd  a  feast  lesse  great  than  nice. 
Where  you  may  imagine  first, 
The  Elves  prepare  to  quench  his  thirst, 
In  pure  seed  Pearle  of  Infant  dew 
Brought  and  sweetned  with  a  blew 
And  pregnant  Violet ;  which  done 
His  killing  eies  begin  to  runne 
Quite  ore  the  table,  where  he  spyes 
The  homes  of  water'd  Butter-flies. 
Of  which  he  eats,  but  with  a  little 
Neat  coole  allay  of  Cuckowe  spittle. 
Next  this  the  red  cap  worme  thats  shut 
Within  the  concave  of  a  nut. 
Moles  eyes  he  tastes,  then  Adders  eares ; 
To  these  for  sauce  the  slaine  stagges  teares, 
A  bloated  earewig,  and  the  pith 
Of  sugred  rush  he  glads  him  with. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxv. 

Then  he  takes  a  little  Mothe, 

Late  fatted  in  a  scarlet  cloth, 

A  Spinners  ham,  the  beards  of  mice, 

Nits  carbonado'd,  a  device 

Before  unknowne ;  the  blood  of  fleas 

Which  gave  his  Elveships  stomacke  ease. 

The  unctuous  dew  tops  of  a  Snaile, 

The  broke  heart  of  a  Nightingale, 

Orecome  in  musicke,  with  the  sagge 

And  well  bestrutted  Bees  sweet  bagge. 

Conserves  of  Atomes,  and  the  mites, 

The  silke  wormes  sperme,  and  the  delights 

Of  all  that  ever  yet  hath  blest 

Fayrie  land  :  so  ends  his  feast." 

If  it  were  needful  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  extend 
these  various  readings  from  other  MSS.,  public  and  pri 
vate.  A  number  have  been  kindly  sent  to  me  and 
otherwise  pointed  out ;  but  enough  have  been  adduced 
to  convince  that,  in  common  with  the  greatest  and  most 
spontaneous  of  our  Poets,  Herrick  worked  with  a  fine 
artistic  patience  and  genuine  concentration  and  con 
secration  on  his  Verse.  What  is  accidentally  revealed 
in  those  thus  minutely  examined  and  reported  on  by 
us,  warrants  the  conclusion  that  thus  was  it  throughout. 
The  student  of  our  language  and  literature  will  be 
thankful  for  this  additional  evidence  of  highest  art  in 
combination  with  highest  genius  (of  its  kind),  and  will 


clxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

(I  hope)  be  helped  to  discern  with  what  admirable  in 
sight  and  ear  our  Poet  changed  and  omitted.  To  him 
equally  with  Ben  Jonson  may  be  applied  William 
Cartwright's  inestimable  praise  : — 

"  Where  are  they  now  that  cry  thy  Lamp  did  drink 
More  Oyl  than  th'  Author  Wine,  while  he  did  think  ? 
We  do  embrace  their  slander;  thou  hast  writ 
Not  for  Dispatch  but  Fame;  no  Market  Wit; 
'Twas  not  thy  Care  that  it  might  pass  and  sel 
But  that  it  might  endure,  and  be  done  well ; 
Nor  wouldst  thou  venture  it  unto  the  Ear 
Until  the  File  would  not  make  smooth,  but  wear." 

(Poems,  as  before,  p.  314.) 

That  Herrick  did  use  the  *  File  '  cunningly  and 
patiently  is  everywhere  apparent ;  and  in  anticipation 
of  apparently  an  early  death  and  before  he  should  be 
'  in  print '  be  appealed  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  "  (Vol.  I.  p.  35.) 

and  elsewhere : 

"  Parcell-gilt  Poetry. 

Let's  strive  to  be  THE  BEST  ;  the  Gods,  we  know  it, 
Pillars  and  men,  hate  an  indifferent  poet." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  46.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxvii. 

III.  What  the  Book  tells  of  the  Man  and  his  relation 
to  his  times. — The  merest  glance  over  the  manifold 
headings  of  the  Poems,  longer  and  shorter,  si  Hesperides 
and  Noble  Numbers,  reveals  that  Herrick  was  not  at  all 
reluctant  to  tell  the  world  of  himself.  Even  in  cases 
wherein  he  might  have  concealed  his  own  personality 
he  prefers  revelation  of  it  to  concealment,  silvern 
speech  to  golden  silence — e.g.,  in  "Wit's  Recreations" 
certain  quaint  lines  had  been  inscribed  "  Of  an  old 
batchelor,"  but  when  they  were  transferred  to  Hesperides 
he  bravely  substitutes  "  Upon  Himself "  (Vol.  I. 
p.  170);  and  so,  too,  with  "Cherry  Pit"  in  "Wit's 
Recreations"  indirect,  while  in  Hesperides  direct  "Julia 
and  I."1  This  is  typical.  If  it  were  harsh  to  allege 
that  he  "  wore  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve  for  daws  to 
peck  at,"  one  must  recognize  a  frank  volubility  and  a 
fearless  confidentialness  about  Robert  Herrick  by 
Robert  Herrick,  that  are  extremely  noticeable.  No 
more  than  Cromwell  does  he  seek  to  tone  down  either 
the  coppery  hue  of  that  feature  which  was  so  prominent 

1  I  refer  here  simply  to  the  change  to  "  Julia  and  I."  Of  course 
it  is  clear  he  had  other  motives  for  the  alteration,  e.g.  the  first 
form  shows  he  wrote  for  the  sake  of  the  equivoque,  and  then  he 
altered  it  for  the  sake  of  better  effect.  The  equivoque  and  meaning 
conveyed  in  his  equivoque  was  also  too  gross  for  him  to  speak  it 
really  as  of  himself. 


clxviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

in  Bardolph,  or  to  remove  his  warts.  This  suggests 
another  element — his  fundamental  truthfulness.  It  is 
not  simply  that  there  is  realism  of  description  and  utter 
nakedness  of  discovery,  but  that,  whether  grave  or  gay, 
you  have  a  sense  of  absolute  integrity  of  confession  and 
profession.  Both  may  mainly  relate  to  moods  and 
swift-coming  and  as  swift-going  thought  and  emotion ; 
but  then  it  is  so  because  the  man  was  a  phenomenal 
man,  a  man  of  sudden  moods,  as  changeful  and  as  un 
expected  as  the  patterns  made  by  a  kaleidoscope.  For 
sooth  there  is  often  and  often  the  same  wonder  over 
the  verse-record,  touched  with  imaginative  splendours, 
as  over  the  strange  beauty  shapened  and  coloured 
therein  out  of  bits  of  broken  glass  and  other  valueless 
scraps.  You  turn  to  a  poem  headed  "  Of  Himself," 
and  lo  !  the  starting-point  is  a  mere  nothing,  but  before 
the  close  you  are  startled  with  something  that  lifts  you 
up  and  ennobles  the  common-place.  To  take  a  repre-  - 
sentative  example. — Like  Thomas  Randolph,  he  had 
lost  a  ringer,  and  so  he  must  '  sing '  of  the  loss — not  for 
Noble  Numbers,  but  for  Hesperides — and  here  is  the 
result,  one  which  the  Reader  might  do  worse  than 
meditate  on  a  little  : — 

"  Upon  the  losse  of  his  Finger. 

One  of  the  five  straight  branches  of  my  hand 

Is  lopt  already;  and  the  rest  but  stand 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxix. 

Expecting  when  to  fall  :  which  soon  will  be ; 
First  dyes  the  Leafe,  the  Bough  next,  next  the  Tree." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  170.) 

Compare  this  with  the  volatile  Randolph's  apostrophe 
to  his  finger  lost  in  a  scuffle  : — 


"  deare  finger,  though  thou  be 


Cut  from  those  muscles  governed  thee. 

And  had  thy  motion  at  command ; 

Yet  still  as  in  a  margent  stand 

To  point  my  thoughts  to  fix  upon 

The  hope  of  Resurrection  : 

And  since  thou  canst  no  finger  be, 

Be  a  death's-head  to  humble  me, 

Till  death  doth  threat  her  sting  in  vain, 

And  we  in  heaven  shake  hands  again." 

(Poems  :  1652  pp.  121-2.) 

How  much  truer  and  simpler  and  right  from  the 
heart  is  the  pathos  of  Herrick  I  over  against  the  mere  I 
4  trick '  of  Randolph.  One  accepts  as  real  the  one  : 
as  in  reading  his  George  Herbert-like  "  Necessary 
Observations,"  the  tongue  in  cheek  is  inevitably  called 
up  in  the  other.  I  say  this  as  judging  by  the  ultimate  '  v 

impression  left  on  the  student  of  Herrick  and  of  blaz%    \  ^\ 

i 
Randolph.     Herrick  '  convinces  '  you  of  his  truthful-  ;     \*A 

ness,  whether  he  aspire  or  grovel.     It  were  easy  to 
multiply  similar  engrandeuring  and  entendering  of  very 


clxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

ordinary  things ;  but  all  along  J  wish  rather  to  lead  the 
way  than  to  exhaust  those  characteristics  that  have 
suggested  themselves  to  me. 

Springing  out  of  these  unlocked  for  touches  of  gravity 
and  art  of  the  Poet  as  distinguished  from  the  mere 
rhymer,  is  another  element  still  more  largely  present 
in  Hesperides  and  Noble  Numbers  when  you  are  vigi- 
'lant  in  looking  for  it.  I  refer  to  an  unlifted  shadow  of 
•  melancholy  that  must  have  lain  broad  and  black  over 
Herrick.  Joyousness  is  not  at  all  in  contradiction  with 
•'  this,  any  more  than  is  the  shadow  with  the  real  bright 
ness  of  the  light  whose  shadow  it  is.  Your  '  merry ' 
nature — merry  toward  others,  through  keen  self-repres 
sion  and  self-denial — has  often  a  dark  thread  inter 
woven  in  it.  I  find  this  melancholy  (the  '  Melan 
cholia'  of  Robert  Burton)  in  the  perpetually-recurring 
thought  of  death  in  the  Poetry  of  Herrick.  The  inter 
mixture  of  the  Poems — before  accounted  for — is  apt  to 
hide  this ;  but  when  you  read  pencil  in  hand,  you  are 
struck  with  the  fascinating  frequency  of  allusion  to  '  the 
end '  of  all ;  your  ear,  once  open,  catches  tones  and 
semi-tones  of  an  unmoving  sense  of  mortality  and  un 
certainty  ;  you  see  the  gleam  of  tears  in  the  very  sun 
beams  of  laughter.  His  "  Gather  ye  rosebuds  "  is  only 
a  lighter  setting  to  music  of  an  habitual  thought  in  this 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxxi. 

so  blithe  and  whole-hearted  Singer.  This  is  the  more 
remarkable  as  a  recollection  of  the  facts  of  his  Life 
(I.  Biographical)  makes  it  certain  that  the  largest 
proportion  of  his  Poems  must  have  been  written  when 
he  was  comparatively  young.  Nevertheless,  his  *  gray 
hairs'  and  death  come  in  with  a  peculiar  iteration  among 
the  earliest.2  As  we  have  already  seen,  the  very  remark 
able  Lines  from  the  Ashmolean  MS.  entitled  "Vpon 
Parting"  ("Golden  Apples,"  Vol.  III.  p.  109)  mark  his 
disentanglement  from  all  his  "  Mistresses "  (in  the 
poetic,  and  only  subsidiarily  actual  sense  of  l  sweet 
hearts')  on  his  assuming  'holy  orders.'  The  other  poem, 
"  The  Farewell  vnto  Poetrie  "  (Ibid  pp.  101-6),  is 
kindredly  serious.  About  to  be  made  '  priest,'  he 
means  to  do  his  duty.  Now  all  this  was  in  or  before 
1629,  when  he  was  'ordained'  and  installed  as  Vicar 
of  Dean  Prior.  By  1629,  consequently,  or  in  his  38th 
year,  his  '  Antheas,'  and  '  Perillas,'  and  '  Julias,'  and 

3  Herrick's  melancholy  and  thoughts  of  death  are  abiding,  not 
transient,  much  less  mere  phrases.  An  unpublished  autograph 
note  of  Voltaire  to  Lord  Chesterfield  gives  an  example  of  the  mere 
jesting-phrase  reference  to  death — as  follows  : — 

"  Si  je  ne  suis  pas  mort,  je  Serai  a  vos  ordres,  si  je  suis  mort,  je 
vous  en  demande  pardon  d'avance.  V." 

A  my  lord. 

Comte  Chesterfield  :  1772  or  1773  :  MSS.  at  Bretby  Park. 


clxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

1  Silvias,'  and  all  the  bevy  of  fair  girls  and  women  were 
of  the  Past — earlier  in  his  *  wild,  unhallowed '  youth- 
hood  and  later  after  leaving  the  University  and  being 
resident  in  town,  prior  to  ordination,  and  when  he  was 
of  the  '  Sun,'  and  the  '  Dog,'  and  the  '  Triple  Tun,' 
and  other  great  gatherings,  social  and  literary  ;  and 
yet  it  is  in  these  relatively  early  poems  the  deepest 
and  saddest  notes  are  found.  Let  us  glance  over  the 
Book  to  briefly  indicate  (by  italics)  and  illustrate  this, 
— going  from  the  opening  pages  onward.  Thus  "  To 
Perilla  "  he  writes, — the  last  line  (italicized)  being  very 
fine  in  another  aspect  than  what  is  now  being  looked 
at:— 

"Ah,  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  aivay  to  mine  eternal  home  ; 
'Twill  not  be  long  (Perilla)  after  this, 
That  I  must  give  thee  the  supremest  kisse : 

Dead  'when  1  am 

Follow  me  weeping  to  my  Turfe,  and  there 
Let  fall  a  Primrose,  and  with  it  a  teare  : 
Then  lastly,  let  some  weekly-strewings  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." 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  14-150 


MEMORIA  ^INTRODUCTION.          clxxiii. 

Again,  in  his  "  To  Robin  Red-brest "  how  touch- 
ingly  does  he  go  away  back  as  when  a  little  child  on 
the  child's  legend  in  all  lands  of  the  "  Babes  in  the 
Wood,"  and  seek  a  friend  in  the  *  house-hold '  bird  of 
"  the  red  stomacher"  : — 

"  To  Robin  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  ! " 

(Vol.  I.  p.  32.) 

Once  more,  "  To  Anthea,"  as  to  "  Perilla,"  we 
have  this ;  and,  as  in  I.  Biographical  I  have  re 
marked,  it  is  surely  very  clear  that  under  these  fanciful 
names  a  real  love-story  of  his  youth  is  concealed, 
making  us  think  of  his  bachelorhood  as  constrained  by 
some  disappointment  in  a  first  love  : — 


"  To  Anthea. 

Now  is  the  time,  ivhen  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  : 


clxxiv.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Or,  for  mine  honour,  lay  me  in  that  Tombe 
In  'which  thy  sacred  Reliques  shall  ha-ve  roome. 
For  my  Embalming  (Sweetest)  there  will  be 
No  Spices  wanting,  when  I'm  laid  by  thee." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  34.) 

Yet  again,  how  unforced,  how  inevitable,  how  soft 
and  tender  is  his  : — 

"  Divination  by  a  Daffadill. 
When  a  Daffadill  I  see, 
Hanging  down  his  head  tj wards  me ; 
Guesse  I  may,  what  I  must  be  : 
First,  I  shall  decline  my  head ; 
Secondly,  I  shall  be  dead  ; 
Lastly,  safely  buryed.  (Vol.  I.  p.  64.) 

Tenderer  still  is  this  : — 

"  Upon  his  eye-sight  failing  him. 

I  beginne  to  waine  in  sight ; 
Shortly  I  shall  bid  goodnight : 
Then  no  gazing  more  about, 
When  the  Tapers  once  are  out." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  131.) 

Even  when  he  is  wearing,  if  not  motley,  at  least  the 
vine-wreath  of  Anacreon  or  the  violets  of  Catullus,  he 
semi-unconsciously  deepens  his  raillery  of  "  The  cruell 
maid  "  into  passionate  entreaty,  as  thus : — 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  clxxv. 


— "  Pie  trouble  you  no  more  ;  but  goe 
My  ivay,  "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  "  : 

and  again : 


'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." 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  103-104.) 

Still  more  interpenetrated  and  penetratively,  is 

"  The  Olive  Branch. 
Sadly  I  ivalk't  ivithin  the  field, 
To  see  what  comfort  it  wo'dyeeld  ; 
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  ivoes  shall  cease  ; 
And  Love  shall  crcrwn  my  End  with  Peace" 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  126-7.) 


clxxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

Very  striking  is  the  working  in  of  himself  and  his  antici 
pated  early  death  in  the  else  gay  rather  than  sombre 
"  Meditation  for  his  Mistresse."  He  has  likened  her 
to  'Tulip,'  and  'July-flower/  and  '  Rose,'  and  'faire-set 
Vine,'  and  '  Balme,'  and  '  dainty  Violet ' !  Then,  like 
one  of  Mozart's  marvellous  notes  in  his  Choruses,  there 
is  this  close : 

"  You  are  the  Queen  all  flowers  among, 
But  die  you  must  (faire  Maide)  ere  long, 
As  He,  the  maker  of  this  Song"  (Vol.  I.  p.  152.) 

Similarly  in  "  The  Changes.     To  Corinna  "— 

"  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."      (Vol.  I.  p.  169.) 

These  will  suffice  to  satisfy  the  Reader  that  not  only 
was  there  beneath  Herrick's  moods  of  mirth  and  boist- 
crousness  an  abiding  element  of  melancholy,  but  besides, 
a  deeper  vein  of  thinking  and  feeling  than  is  commonly 
suspected.  This  leads  me  to  speak  of  another  element 
in  the  make  of  the  man  that  demands  statement  and 
insistence,  seeing  that  inattention  to  it  does  him  no  ordi 
nary  injustice — his  love  of  country,  his  Shakespeare-like 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         clxxvii. 

proudness  of  being  an  Englishman.  This  comes  out 
very  delightfully  in  the  fulness  and  fine  credulity  of  his 
celebration  of  English  ways  and  habits,  and  even 
superstitions.  For  where  will  you  find  such  pictures 
of  England's  flowers  and  herbage,  the  freshness  and 
brightness  of  her  sunshine,  and  rains,  and  dews,  the 
fragrance  of  her  blossoms,  and  buds,  and  leafage,  and 
fruits;  the  deliciousness  of  her  bird-filled  woodland 
and  lanes,  and  twilights,  the  daintiness  of  her  Christ 
mas,  and  other  home  and  harvest  ordinances  and  cus 
toms,  as  Hock-cart,  May-pole  Morris  dance,  Wake, 
Quintell,  Trentall,  Twelfth  Night,  the  heartiness  and 
opulence  of  her  firesides,  gentle  and  simple,  the  exquisite- 
ness  and  delicate  fancies  of  her  'Fairy'  lore,  the  peerless 
loveliness  of  her  'fair  women/  and  the  imperial  brains  of 
her  '  brave  men,'  the  thorough  gladness  of  the  brown 
lads  and  ruddy  lasses  in  the  comely  country  round,  or 
quaffing  their  nut-brown  ale.  So  that  his  own  appeal 
and  request  when  he  would  have  his  verses  read  must 
be  remembered  by  those  who  would  drink  in  their 
finest  inspiration — as  thus  : — 

"  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. 

m 


clxxviii.        MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

When  Laurell  spirts  'ith'  Jire,  and  'when  the  Hearth 
Smiles  to  it  selfe,  and  guilds  the  roofe  ivith  mirth  ; 
When  up  the  Thyrse  is  rais'd,  and  when  the  sound 
Of  sacred  Orgies  flyes,  A  round,  A  round ; 
When  the  Rose  raignes,  and  locks  'with  ointments  shine, 
Let  rigid  Cato  read  these  Lines  of  mine.9* 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  11-12.) 

But  if  more  occult  not  a  whit  less  pervading  is  the 
further  evidence  that  Herrick,  more  than  most  of  his 
contemporaries,  felt  keenly  all  through  the  tragedy  of 
the  Civil  War,  the  vastness  of  the  issues  and  the  mourn- 
fulness  of  the  conflict.  When — as  with  his  melancholy 
— you  study  Hesperides  and  Noble  Numbers  with  this  in 
mind,  you  are  surprised  and  touched  by  the  depth 
and  strength  of  emotion  as  he  writes  of  the  men  and 
the  events  of  his  age.  In  I.  Biographical,  I  have 
stated  that  he  was  a  Royalist,  and  '  loyal '  to  the 
King  as  against  the  Kingdom.  In  his  case,  as  in  many 
others,  I  have  recognised  the  chivalry  of  his  loyalty. 
If  I  must  side  with  Cromwell  not  Charles,  or  with  the 
Nation  and  not  the  Court,  I  none  the  less  honour  such 
as  sacrificed  everything  in  fealty  to  their  convictions 
and  principles.  But  underlying  Herrick's  Royalism  and 
loyalty,  there  was  open-eyed  and  sad-hearted  insight 
into  the  high-handed  procedure  of  his  sovereign  and 
his  advisers,  and  a  yearning  for  a  way  of  escape  and 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          clxxix. 

reconciliation.  To  those  consequently  who  have  turned 
to  Hesperides  as  a  mere  Garden  of  Flowers,  and  Fruit, 
and  Birds,  and  rural  sights  and  fragrancies,  and  colours, 
and  sounds,  it  is  necessary  to  assert  that  his  Poems,  when 
adequately  studied,  give  us  unmistakable  evidence  that 
in  him  all  the  lights  and  shadows,  the  successes  and 
disasters,  the  angers  and  estrangements,  the  wisdom 
and  unwisdom  of  thick-coming  occurrences  were  re 
flected.  The  evidence  here  is  so  universal  that  I  must 
content  myself  with  typical  examples.  At  a  chance 
opening  of  his  Book  take  this  to  begin  with : — 

To  his  Friend  on  the  untunable  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." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  146.) 
Again: — 

On  Himselfe. 

"  Aske  me,  why  I  do  not  sing 
To  the  tension  of  the  string, 


clxxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

As  I  did,  not  long  ago, 
When  my  numbers  full  did  flow  ? 
Griefe  (ay  me !)  hath  struck  my  Lute, 
And  my  tongue  at  one  time  mute." 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  45-6.) 

Once  more : — 

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  give  it  to  the  Silvan  deitie."     (Vol.  II.  p.  172.) 

Again : — 

His  'wish  to  privacie. 
"  Give  me  a  Cell 

To  dwell, 
Where  no  foot  hath 

A  path  : 
There  will  I  spend, 

And  end 
My  'wearied yeares 

In  teares."  (Vol.  II.  p.  262.) 

Again : — 

His  Answer  to  a  friend. 

"  You  aske  me  what  I  doe,  and  how  I  live  ? 
And  (Noble  friend)  this  answer  I  must  give  : 
Drooping,  I  draw  on  to  the  vaults  of  death, 
O're  which  you'l  walk,  when  I  am  laid  beneath." 
(Vol.  III.  pp.  50-51.) 


MEMORIA  L-INTRODUCTION.          clxxxi. 

Further : — 

His  change. 

"  My  many  cares  and  much  distress, 
Has  made  me  like  a  wilderness  : 
Or  (discompos'd)  Pm  like  a  rude, 
And  all-confused  multitude : 
Out  of  my  comely  manners  worne; 
And  as  in  meanes,  in  minde  all  torne." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  51.) 

There  are  many  such  personal  plaints ;  but  there  are 
more  than  these.  His  expressly  'royal'  poems  directly 
addressed  to  the  King  and  his  followers  were  natural 
enough  from  him.  Their  '  loyalty '  lies  on  the  surface. 
It  needs  not  that  I  should  quote  from  them.  But  with 
all  his  '  royalism '  and  '  loyalty/  how  deep  was  his  , 
lamentation  over  kingly  and  courtly  vengeances,  and 
how  burning  his  shame  over  incompetence  among 
high-advisers.  Take  this : — 

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." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  470 

So,  too,  in  his  "  Pitie  to  the  Prostrate  "  : — 


dxxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  'Tis  worse  then  barbarous  cruelty  to  show 
No  part  of  pitie  on  a  conquer'd  foe." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  163.) 

This  latter  may  have  been  a  groan  for  the  beaten  King 
—  and  this  also  :  — 

Change  common  to  all. 
"  All  things  subjected  are  to  Fate; 
Whom  this  Morne  sees  most  fortunate, 
The  Ev'ning  sees  in  poor  estate." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  179-) 

How  pathetic  his  verses  to  Wicks  :  — 

"  Wave  seen  the  past-best  Times,  and  these 
Will  nere  return."     (Vol.  II.  p.  48.) 

Similarly,  in  his  "  Parting  Verse  "  :  — 

"  As  for  myself,  since  time  a  thousand  cares 
And  griefs  hath  fil'de  upon  my  silver  hairs." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  61.) 

Again,  in  his  "Lachrimae,  or  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."  (Vol.  II.  p.  67.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        clxxxiii. 

Once  more,  "  To  his  Booke  "  :— 

"  He's  greedie  of  his  life,  who  will  not  fall, 
Whenas  a  publick  mine  bears  down  All." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  87.) 

0 

So  in  his  "  Pastorall  sung  to  the  King  "  : 

"  Bad  are  the  times.     And  wors  then  they  are  we  : 
Troth,  bad  are  both;  worse  fruit,  and  ill  the  tree." 

and  the  close  : — 

"  The  shades  grow  great ;  but  greater  grows  our  sorrow, 
But  lets  go  steepe 
Our  eyes  in  sleepe ; 
And  meet  to  weepe 

To  morrow."     (Vol.  II.  pp.  93-96. 

He  could  see  the  evil  of '  royal '  favouritism  to  the  un 
worthy, -as  thus: — 

Pollicie  in  Princes. 

"  That  Princes  may  possesse  a  surer  seat, 
'Tis  fit  they  make  no  One  with  them  too  great." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  101.) 

I  think  this  must  refer  to  Edgehill : — 

Haste  hurtfulL 

"  Haste  is  unhappy  :  what  we  rashly  do 
Is  both  unluckie ;  I,  and  foolish  too. 


clxxxiv.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Where  War  with  rashnesse  is  attempted,  there 
The  soldiers  leave  the  Field  with  equall  feare." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  279.) 

There  returns  his  own  personal  grief :  — 

His  iveaknesse  in  ivoes. 
"  I  cannot  suffer ;  and  in  this,  my  part 
Of  Patience  wants.   Grief  breaks  the  stoutest  Heart." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  in.) 

Here  is  the  cry  of  a  pathetic  heart  pierced  to  the  core : — 

Upon  the  troublesome  times. 
"  O  !  Times  most  bad, 
Without  the  scope 

Of  hope 
Of  better  to  be  had  ! 

Where  shall  I  goe, 
Or  whither  run 

To  shun 
This  publique  overthrow  ? 

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.'* 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  183-4-) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        clxxxv. 

It  was  a  mistaking  of  the  coming  down  of  a  palace- 
ceiling  (so  to  say)  for  the  ruin  of  the  ever-enduring 
dome  of  the  sky  (when  //  was  only  beclouded)  ;  none 
the  less  real  were  the  pain  and  the  trial.  How  curiously 
intermixed  is  his  "  Bad  season  makes  the  Poet  sad,"  as 
thus  :— 

"  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  sorrowing. 
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  Siveet  Maria  lived  here  : 
I  sho'd  delight  to  have  my  Curies  halfe  drown'd 
In  Tyrlan  Dtrwes,  and  Head  with  Roses  crown'd. 
And  once  more  yet  (ere  I  am  laid  out  dead) 
Knock  at  a  Starre  with  my  exalted  Head."  ^ 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  187-8.) 

As  shewn  by  the  absence  of  the  Queen,  these  lines  must 
have  been  written  after  July,  1644.  The  facts  give  a 
keener  edge  to  the  couplet  entitled  "  Love '  : — 

"  This  Axiom  I  have  often  heard, 
Kings  ought  to  be  more  lov'd  then  fear'd" 

(Vol.  II.  p.  220.) 


clxxxvi.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

and  again : — 

True  safety. 

"  'Tis  not  the  Walls,  or  purple  that  defends 
A  Prince  from  Foes ;  but  'tis  his  Fort  of  Friends." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  237.) 

and  once  more  : — 

Clemency  in  Kings. 

"  Kings  must  not  only  cherish  up  the  good, 
But  must  be  niggards  of  the  meanest  bloud." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  266.) 

and  yet  again,  very  articulately  : — 

Moderation. 

"  In  things  a  moderation  keepe, 
Kings  ought  to  sheare,  not  skin  their  sheefe." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  267.) 

Further : — 

Bad  Princes  pill  their  People. 
"  Like  those  infernall  Deities  which  eate 
The  best  of  all  the  sacrificed  meate ; 
And  leave  their  servants,  but  the  smoak  &  sweat : 
So  many  Kings,  and  Primates  too  there  are, 
Who  claim  the  Fat,  and  Fleshie  for  their  share, 
And  leave  their  subjects  but  the  starved  ware." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  284.) 

'  Primates '  is  peculiarly  significant — Laud  being   in 
tended,  doubtless.     Again  : — 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        clxxxvii. 

Kings  and  Tyrants. 

"  'Twixt  Kings  &  Tyrants  there's  this  difference  known, 
Kings  seek  their  Subjects1  good :  Tyrants  their  onvne." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  296.) 

Again,  indignant  over  the  shorn  ears  and  slit  nostrils  of 
Prynne,  and  Burton,  and  Bastwicke,  and  which  we 
have  Dean  Hook  telling  us  to-day  Laud  did  not 
sanction — "  except  perhaps  by  his  vote"  ! ! ! — is  this  : — 

Cruelty. 

"  Tis  but  a  dog-like  madnesse  in  bad  Kings, 
For  to  delight  in  wounds  and  murderings. 
As  some  plants  prosper  best  by  cuts  and  blowes  ; 
So  Kings  by  killing  doe  encrease  their  foes." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  18.) 

Once  more : — 

Patience  in  Princes. 

"  Kings  must  not  use  the  Axe  for  each  offence  : 
Princes  cure  some  faults  by  their  patience." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  46.) 

Significant  is  this  : — 

Examples,  or  like  Prince,  like  people. 
"  Examples  lead  us,  and  wee  likely  see, 
Such  as  the  Prince  is,  will  his  People  be." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  256.) 

Further,  boldly,  and  yet  with  a  sad  pensiveness  : — 


clxxxviii.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"  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  Affections  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  cease, 

Or  hold  their  peace. 
Here  needs  no  Court  for  our  Request, 

Where  all  are  best ; 
All  wise;  all  equall;  and  all  just 

Alike  iW  dust. 
Nor  need  we  here  to  feare  the  frowne 

Of  Court,  or  Crown. 
Where  Fortune  bears  no  sivay  o're  things, 

There  all  are  Kings."     (Vol.  II.  p.  147.) 
Again : — 

Gentlenesse. 

"  That  Prince  must  govern  with  a  gentle  hand, 
Who  will  have  love  comply  with  his  command." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  68.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        clxxxix. 

Finally,  I  know  nothing  more  affecting  than  his  address 
"  To  his  angrie  God,"  with  himself  wounded  in  and  out, 
and  his  outlook  ominous  and  spectral : — 

"  Through  all  the  night 

Thou  dost  me  fright, 
And  hold'st  mine  eyes  from  sleeping ; 

And  day,  by  day, 

My  Cup  can  say, 
My  wine  is  mixt  with  weeping. 

Thou  dost  my  bread 

With  ashes  knead, 
Each  evening  and  each  morrow  : 

Mine  eye  and  eare 

Do  see,  and  heare 
The  coming  in  of  sorrow. 

Thy  scourge  of  steele, 

(Ay  me!)  I  feele, 
Upon  me  beating  ever  : 

While  my  sick  heart 

With  dismall  smart 
Is  disacquainted  never. 

Long,  long,  I'm  sure, 

This  can't  endure ; 
But  in  short  time  'twill  please  Thee, 

My  genrie  God, 

To  burn  the  rod, 
Or  strike  so  as  to  ease  me."    (Vol.  III.  p.  141.) 

I  venture  to  assume  that  now  it  has  been  made  good 


cxc.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

that  Herrick  was  no  heathen  Anacreon  or  Catullus 
'  singing '  jocundly  his  own  mirthfulness,  and  singing 
heedless  of  the  mighty  ongoings  that  contemporaneously 
through  long  years  reverberated  over  the  land.  I 
therefore  quote,  if  in  sorrow  and  wonder,  yet  also 
thankfully — because  it  puts  effectively  a  long-prevalent 
misunderstanding  and  misconception  of  our  Poet — 
from  MR.  EDMUND  W.  GOSSE'S  paper  in  Cornhill 
(August,  1875).  "This  period  was  one  of  great  lyrical 
ability ;  the  drama  was  declining  under  Massinger  [?] 
and  Shirley,  and  all  the  young  generation  of  poets, 
brought  up  at  the  feet  of  Jonson  and  Fletcher,  were 
much  more  capable  of  writing  songs  than  plays.  In 
deed  no  one  can  at  this  time  determine  what  degree  of 
technical  perfection  English  literature  might  not  have 
attained  if  the  Royalist  lyrists  had  been  allowed  to 
sun  themselves  unmolested  about  the  fountains  of 
Whitehall,  and,  untroubled  by  the  grave  question  of 
national  welfare,  had  been  able  to  give  their  whole  at 
tention  to  the  polishing  of  their  verses.  In  fact,  how 
ever,  it  will  be  noticed  that  only  one  of  the  whole 
school  was  undisturbed  by  the  political  crisis.  The 
weaker  ones,  like  Lovelace,  were  completely  broken  by 
it ;  the  stronger,  like  Suckling,  threw  themselves  into 
public  affairs  with  a  zeal  and  intensity  that  supplied 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxci. 

the  place  of  the  artificial  excitement  of  poetry  so  com 
pletely  as  to  put  a  stop  to  their  writing  altogether. 
Herrick  alone,  with  unfashionable  serenity,  continued 
to  pipe  out  his  pastoral  ditties,  and  crown  his  head 
with  daffodils,  when  England  was  torn  to  pieces  with 
the  most  momentous  struggle  for  liberty  that  her  annals 
can  present.  To  the  poetic  student  he  is,  therefore,  of 
special  interest,  as  a  genuine  specimen  of  an  artist, 
pure  and  simple.  Herrick  brought  out  the  Hesperides 
a  few  weeks  before  the  King  was  beheaded,  and  people 
were  invited  to  listen  to  little  madrigals  upon  Julia's 
stomacher  at  the  singularly  inopportune  moment  when 
the  eyes  of  the  whole  nation  were  bent  on  the  unprece 
dented  phenomenon  of  the  proclamation  of  an  English 
republic.  To  find  a  parallel  to  such  unconsciousness 
we  must  come  down  to  our  own  time,  and  recollect 
that  Theophile  Gautier  took  occasion  of  the  siege  of 
Paris  to  revise  and  republish  Emaux  et  Camees  "  (pp. 
176-7).  I  feel  sure  that  no  one  will  be  more  eager 
than  Mr.  Gosse  to  recall  his  hard  and  utterly  erroneous 
judgment  of  Herrick.  I  must  iterate  and  re-iterate, 
that  in  no  contemporary  do  you  find  such  multiplied, 
poignant,  over-mastering,  and  nevertheless  unclamorous 
1  consciousness  '  of  these  '  troublous  times.'  The  imagi 
nary  coincidence  of  the  publication  of  Hesperides  with 


cxcii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

the  beheading  of  the  King  is  singularly  unfortunate. 
The  title-page  of  Noble  Numbers  is  1647,  and  that  of 
Hesperides  1648.  The  Book  came  out  early  in  1648. 
The  King  was  beheaded  January  3oth,  1649.  Equally 
mistaken  is  the  notion  that  "  the  little  madrigals  upon 
Julia's  stomacher  "  and  the  like  belong  to  the  period  of 
the  nation's  throes  for  liberty.  They  were  certainly  of 
his  earliest,  many  probably  of  1610-12,  and  assuredly 
all,  or  nearly  all,  prior  to  1629  ;  or  well-nigh,  even  in 
the  latter,  a  good  quarter  of  a  century  before  the  Civil 
War  and  its  mournful  strife  and  dolour.  I  would  re 
call  that  even  his  '  flower '  verses  were  all  early ;  for 
thus  "To  Flowers  "  does  he  '  sing '  :— 

"  In  time  of  life,  I  grac't  ye  with  my  Verse." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  57-) 

and   when  he  thinks  of  his  imperishable  Lyrics,  he 
exclaims  : — 

"  Before  I  'went 
To  banishment 
Into  the  loathed  West ; 
I  co'd  rehearse 
A  Lyrick  verse, 
And  speak  it  with  the  best." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  67-8.) 
that  is  before  1629. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxciii. 

Going  on  from  his  undoubted  patriotism,  I  wish  to 
put  stress  on  this  thing  of  the  chronology  of  the  Poems 
of  Herrick,  for  another  reason.  There  no  doubt  still 
remains  in  the  Epigrams,  inexplicable  contradiction  to 
Noble  Numbers,  and  to  much  of  deepest  and  greatest 
in  Hesperides.  There  must  have  been  a  streak  of 


animalism  to  the  last  in  him  as  in  Rabelais,  and 


and  Sterne ;  for  I  dare  not  conceal,  if  I  might,  his 
portraits  of  parishioners,  and  loathsome  allusions  to 
corns,  and  toes,  and  sweat,  and  stinks,  and  "  raw  eyes," 
and  "  gum  of  the  eyes,"  and  "  running  ears,"  such  as 
a  Satyr  given  pen  and  ink  might  have  written.  But  it 
does  lift  off  a  weight  of  blame  and  incongruity  to  keep 
fast  hold  of  the  simple  matter-of-fact  that  his  love- 
lays,  and  endless  flaming  after  '  Mistresses/  and  riot 
of  self-indulgence  in  sack,  and  '  winking  wine,'  and  such 
hilariousness  and  abandon  as  are  not  for  an  instant  to 
be  associated  with  a  clergyman,  WERE  ALL  THE  PRO  ; 

DUCT  OF  HIS  '  LAY '  YEARS,  AND  SOCIAL  MEETINGS  WITH 

JONSON  AND  HIS  COMPEERS.  I  would  re-affirm  that 
"  Robert  Herrick,  Esq."  on  his  title-page  was  intended, 
as  it  was  fitted,  to  disassociate  his  Poems — as  a  whole 
— from  his  '  clerical '  years.  It  was  long  before  even 
1629  he  sang  : — 


cxciv.  MEMORIA  L-INTROD  UCTION. 

"  I  feare  no  Earthly  Powers, 
But  care  for  crowns  of  flowers  ; 
And  love  to  have  my  Beard 
With  Wine  and  Oil  besmear'd. 
This  day  He  drowne  all  sorrow ; 
Who  knowes  to  live  to-morrow  ? " 

(Vol.  I.  p.  in.) 

Here  spoke  the  young  man  *  about  town/  with  his 
bones  full  of  marrow,  and  his  blood  of  fire,  and  his 
entire  temperament  pleasure-loving  and  sensuous.  I 
quote  again  from  Mr.  Gosse  that  again  the  reader  may 
be  forewarned  and  forearmed  against  his  further  funda 
mental  misconception  of  Herrick,  through  forgetfulness 
that  the  one  set  or  dass  of  Poems  was  sundered  by  a 
quarter-of-a-century  at  least  from  the  other.  Not  in 
his  "  dreary  Devonshire  vicarage,"  but  when  his  '  fine 
frenzy'  was  kindled  by  the  guests  of  "The  Dog," 
and  "The  Sun,"  and  "The  Triple  Tun,"  was  he 
so  '  outspoken '  in  his  "  half-classical  dreams  about 
Favonius  and  Iris,  and  in  flowery  mazes  of  sweet 
thoughts  about  fair^  half-imaginary  women."  With 
these  preliminary  words,  here  is  our  further  quotation, 
after  above  lines,  "  I  fear  no  earthly  powers "  : — 
"  This  was  his  philosophy,  and  it  is  not  to  be  distin 
guished  from  that  of  Anacreon  or  Horace.  One 
knows  not  how  the  old  pagan  dared  be  so  outspoken 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxcv. 

in  his  dreary  Devonshire  vicarage,  with  no  wild  friends 
to  egg  him  on,  or  to  applaud  his  fine  frenzy.  His 
Epicureanism  was  plainly  a  matter  of  conviction,  and 
though  he  wrote  Noble  Numbers,  preached  sermons, 
and  went  through  all  the  perfunctory  duties  of  his 
office  [  Not  a  shadow  of  proof  of  the  *  duties  of  his 
office  '  having  been  '  perfunctory'],  it  is  not  in  these 
that  he  lives  and  has  his  pleasure,  but  in  half-classical 
dreams  about  Favonius  and  Iris,  and  in  flowery 
mazes  of  sweet  thoughts  about  fair,  half-imaginary 
women.  It  matters  little  to  him  what  divinity  he 
worships,  if  he  may  work  daffodils  into  the  god's  bright 
hair.  In  one  hand  he  brings  a  garland  of  yellow 
flowers  for  the  amorous  head  of  Bacchus,  with  the 
other  he  decks  the  osier-cradle  of  Jesus  with  roses  and 
Lent-lilies.  He  has  no  sense  of  irreverence  in  this 
rococo  devotion.  It  is  the  attribute,  and  not  the 
Deity  he  worships.  There  is  an  airy  frivolity,  an  easy 
going  callousness  of  soul  that  makes  it  impossible  for 
him  to  feel  very  deeply  "  (p.  180).  A  thousand  and  a 
thousand  times  *  No.'  My  gifted  friend  is  oblivious  of 
dates,  and  imposed  on  by  the  intermixture  of  earlier 
and  later,  light  and  serious,,  through  the  Publishers', 
not  the  Author's,  arrangement  or  disarrangement  of 
Hesperides.  I  am  beyond  measure  astounded  that  a 


MEMORIA  L-INTROD  UCTION. 


critic  of  the  calibre  and  the  weight  of  Mr.  Gosse  could 
deliberately  write  such  a  paradox  of  Herrick,  as  that 
his  was  "  an  easy-going  callousness  of  soul  that  makes 
it  impossible  for  him  to  feel  very  deeply  "  !  Contrari 
wise,  '  callousness '  is  the  very  antipodes  of  his  nature 
in  its  surcharge  of  the  emotional,  and  '  depth,'  the  one 
word  to  express  his  '  feeling,'  in  what  of  truest  and 
noblest  he  has  given  us.  I  must  add  that  there  was 
no  simulation,  but  intense  fervour  and  sincerity  in  his 
passion  at  the  moment,  and  for  the  moment,  if  it  is  to 
be  conceded  that  it  was  also  as  changeable  as  Robert 
Burns's  in  the  eighteenth  century.  Hence,  as  criticism, 
it  is  bewilderingly  the  reverse  of  the  fact  when  Mr. 
Gosse  thus  further  writes  : — "  There  is  a  total  want  of 
passion  in  his  language  about  women — the  nearest 
approach  to  it,  perhaps,*is  in  the  wonderful  song  '  To 
Anthea,'  when  the  lark-like  freshness  of  the  ascending 
melody  closely  simulates  intense  emotion — with  all  his 
warmth  of  fancy  and  luxurious  animalism,  he  thinks 
more  of  the  pretty 'eccentricities  of  dress  than  the 
charms  the  garments  curtain.  He  is  enraptured  with 
the  way  in  which  the  Countess  of  Carlisle  wears  a 
riband  of  black  silk  twisted  round  her  arm ;  he  palpitates 
with  pleasure  when  Mistress  Katherine  Bradshaw  puts  a 
crown  of  laurel  on  his  head,  falling  on  one  knee,  we 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxcvii. 

may  believe,  and  clasping  his  hands  as  he  receives  it. 
He  sees  his  loves  through  the  medium  of  shoe-strings 
and  pomander  bracelets,  and  is  alive,  as  no  poet  has 
been  before  or  since,  to  the  picturesqueness  of  dress. 
Everybody  knows  his  exquisite  lines  about  the  "  tem 
pestuous  petticoat,"  and  his  poems  are  full  of  little 
touches  no  less  delicate  than  this"  (p.  180).  Read 
cum  grano  salts  there  is  truth  in  his  eye  to  "  the  pic 
turesqueness  of  dress  " ;  but  a  very  little  study  of  the 
poems  referred  to  will  satisfy  that  the  Wearers,  not  the 
1  dress/  inspired  him  to  sing,  and  that  his  fault  was  not 
lack,  but  exuberance  and  wildness  of '  passion.' 

Within  these  wider  relations  of  Herrick  to  his  times, 
and  the  insight  which  they  give  us  into  his  bearing 
through  periods  of  national  peril  and  sorrow,  there  was 
his  every-day  life  at  Dean  Prior.  Looked  at  broadly, 
Mr.  Gosse  has  well  sketched  it  for  us,  as  follows : — 
"  In  many  sweet  and  sincere  verses  he  gives  us  a  char 
ming  picture  of  the  quiet  life  he  led  in  the  Devonshire 
parsonage,  that  he  affected  to  loathe  so  much.  The 
village  had  its  rural  and  semi-pagan  customs,  that 
pleased  him  thoroughly.  He  loved  to  see  the  brown 
lads  and  lovely  girls,  crowned  with  daffodils  and  daisies, 
dancing  in  the  summer  evenings  in  a  comely  country 
round;  he  delighted  in  the  may-pole,  ribanded  and 


cxcviii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

garlanded  like  a  thyrsus,  reminding  his  florid  fancy  of 
Bacchus  and  the  garden-god.  There  were  morris- 
dances  at  Dean  Prior,  wakes  and  quintels ;  mummers, 
too,  at  Christmas,  and  quaint  revellings  at  Twelfth 
Night,  with  wassail  bowls  and  nut-brown  mirth;  and 
we  can  imagine  with  what  zeal  the  good  old  pagan 
would  encourage  these  rites  against  the  objections  of 
any  round-head  Puritan  who  might  come  down  with 
his  new-fangled  Methodistical  notions  to  trouble  the 
sylvan  quiet  of  Dean  Prior.  For  Herrick  the  dignity 
of  episcopal  authorship  had  no  charm,  and  thunders 
of  Nonconformity  no  terror.  Busier  minds  were  at 
this  moment  occupied  with  Holy  Living  and  Holy 
Dying,  and  thrilled  with  the  Sermons  of  Calamy.  It  is 
delightful  to  think  of  Herrick,  blissfully  unconscious  of 
the  tumult  of  tongues  and  all  the  windy  war,  more 
occupied  with  morris-dances  and  barley-breaks  than  with 
prayer-book  or  Psalter.  The  Revolution  must  indeed 
have  come  upon  him  unaware"  (p.  181).  Bating  the 
reference  to  the  illustrious  and  venerable  Calamy, 
whose  matterful  sermons  had  Mr.  Gosse  read,  he 
would  have  spared  his  (I  fear  intended)  sneer,  and  the 
already  pointed  out  mistake  that  in  his  seclusion  the 
Vicar  was  '  unaware '  of  the  march  of  events  to  '  The 
Revolution,' — this  vivifies  to  us  the  long-past  '  resi- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cxcix. 


dence.'  I  feel  disposed  to  acquiesce  in  the  phrase  of 
the  "  Devonshire  parsonage,  that  he  affected  to  loath." 
I  suspect  his  objurgations  and  '  parish  '  Epigrams, 
were  written  during  Winter,  when  the  air  was  chill,  and 
the  roads  miry,  and  society  gone  to  town.  One 
cannot  credit  that  Poems  so  informed  with  the  breath 
of  the  country,  and  so  pulsating  with  love  for  every 
thing  rural  and  primitive,  were  not  inspired  by  true 
enjoyment.  It  could  only  have  been  in  a  fit  of  bile, 
or  when  the  old  rhyme  of  '  rainy  Devonshire  '  was 
being  monotonously  accomplished,  that  he  thus  wrote  : 

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, 
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.  =abode 

And  to  the  Farm-house  nere  return  at  all, 
Though  Granges  do  not  love  thee,  Cities  shall.'19 

(Vol.  II.  p.  U6-7.)1 


1  It  may  be  noted  here,  en  passant,  that  in  Randolph's  finest 
poem,  "  An  Ode  to  M.  Anthony  Stafford  to  hasten  him  into  the 


cc.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Let  us  read  the  ancient  rhyme  as  the  key  to  such 
irate  loathing : — 

"  The  West  wind  comes  and  brings  us  rain, 
The  East  wind  blows  it  back  again ; 
The  South  wind  brings  us  rainy  weather, 
The  North  wind  cold  and  rain  together. 
When  the  sun  in  red  doth  set, 
The  next  day  surely  will  be  wet. 
But  if  the  sun  should  set  in  gray 
The  next  will  be  a  rainy  day  ! 
When  buds  the  ash  before  the  oak, 
Then,  that  year,  there'll  be  a  soak, 
But  should  the  oak  precede  the  ash, 
Then  expect  a  rainy  splash." 


Country  "  you  have  the  obverse  of  the  medal.     The  opening  will 

illustrate  : — 

"  Come  spurre  away, 

I  have  no  patience  for  a  longer  stay  ; 

But  must  go  down, 

And  leave  the  changeable  noise  of  this  great  Town. 
I  will  the  Countreye  see, 
Where  all  simplicity, 
Though  hid  in  gray, 
Doth  look  more  gay 
Than  fopery  in  plush  and  scarlet  clad. 

Farewell  you  Citty-wits  that  are 
Almost  at  Civill-warre : 
'Tis  time  that  I  grow  wise  when  all  the  world  grows  mad." 

(Poems  1652,  pp.  61-64.) 


ME  MORI  A  L- 1  NT  ROD  UC  TION.  cci . 

If  the  '  Western  Wind,'  like  North,  and  South,  and 
East,  brought  rain,  and  rain,  and  rain,  it  got  other 
messages  from  the  Poet  too,  as  thus  : — 

"  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,  Tie  promise  thee, 

Instead  of  common  showers, 
Thy  wings  shall  be  embalm'd  by  me, 
And  all  beset  with  flowers." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  179.) 

Nay,  more,  his  "  Noble  Numbers  "  at  least  were  the 
product  of  "dull  Devonshire";  and  so  he  gratefully 
sums  up  his  "  Discontents  in  Devon  "  : 

"  More  discontents  I  never  had, 
Since  I  was  born,  then  here ; 
Where  I  have  bee'n,  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." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  32.) 

Then  there  is  the  title  of  his  Book,  Hesperides, 
which,  if  with  a  sly  reminder  of  *  dragons/  also  tells  of 


ccii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

):  "  Golden  Apples  "  from  the  West.  There  are  home- 
Poems,  that  transparently  assure  us  of  real  contentment 
and  happiness.  It  will  do  us  all  good  towead  "  His 
Grange,  or  private  wealth,"  thus  : — 

"  Though  Clock, 
To  tell  how  night  drawes  hence,  I've  none, 

A  Cock, 
I  have,  to  sing  how  day  drawes  on. 

I  have 
A  maid  (my  Preiv)  by  good  luck  sent, 

To  save 
That  little,  Fates  me  gave  or  lent. 

A  Hen 
I  keep,  which  creeking  day  by  day, 

Tells  when 
She  goes  her  long  white  egg  to  lay. 

A  Goose 
I  have,  which,  with  a  jealous  eare, 

Lets  loose 
Her  tongue,  to  tell  what  danger's  neare. 

A  Lamb 
I  keep  (tame)  with  my  morsells  fed, 

Whose  Dam 
An  Orphan  left  him  (lately  dead). 

A  Cat 
I  keep,  that  playes  about  my  House, 

Grown  fat, 
With  eating  many  a  miching  Mouse. 

To  these 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cciii. 

A  Trasy  I  do  keep,  whereby 

I  please 
The  more  my  rurall  privacie  : 

Which  are 
But  toyes,  to  give  my  heart  some  ease  : 

Where  care 
None  is,  slight  things  do  lightly  please." 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  240-1.) 

Other  Poems — homelier  and  in  a  lower  key — give 
equal  testimony;  and  his  actual  return  in  1662  is 
still  more  consolatory.  It  was  inevitable,  that,  buried 
in  *  the  country ' — he  went  to  Dean  Prior  in  October — 
he  would  yearn  after  old  days  and  the  old  associates  in 
London ;  but  from  1646  to  1662  would  suffice  for 
town,  especially  with  the  grand  men  of  his  youth  all 
gone.  And  so  he  would  '  travel  West/  not  grudgingly 
or  sadly,  but  thankfully.  His  Epigrams  on  obnoxious 
parishioners  would  be  long  forgotten  ;  but  there  is 
proof  that  his  Noble  Numbers  and  his  rural  pieces 
were  '  learned  by  heart  '  (Scotice),  and  long  lingered  "in 
aged  memories.  Then  Devonshire  had  still  its  old-man 
nered  usages  and  '  characters,'  its  feminine  loveliness,  its 
'  tors,'  and  vales,  and  shadowy  lanes ;  its  primroses  and 
violets,  wild  roses,  wild  strawberries  and  honeysuckle, 
cowslips  and  daffodils;  and  the  lark,  and  nightingale,  and 
robin,  and  thrush.  April  and  May,  and  June,  and 


cciv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

July,  would  bring  the  old  games,  and  the  old  mirth  in 
the  old  gatherings.  Even  the  slighted  months  then  as 
now  would  yield  him  their  own  profuse  beauty  of 
ivy,  and  fern,  and  hedgerow.  I  like  to  picture  the 
mellowed  septuagenarian  giving  a  kiss,  glowing  as 
thirty  years  before,  to  the  '  maiden '  whom  he  had 
baptized,  and  whose  parents  he  had  married.  His  hair 
might  be  white,  but  his  heart  was  as  young  as  ever. 
Broad  of  jest,  perchance,  and  laughter-loving  still, 
— loud,  not  low, — abhorrent  of  pretence,  keen-eyed  to 
sanctimoniousness  taking  the  guise  of  saintliness,  but 
soft-hearted  and  generous  to  the  last ;  not  "  an  old 
Pagan,"  but  a  hale,  old-fashioned  Churchman,  who 
loved  the  ancient  forms  and  ancient  prayers,  and 
ancient  usages  altogether,  and  who,  not  brazenly  and 
merely  orthodoxally,  had  with  stooped  head  said  in 
1648  :— 

"  I  sing,  and  ever  shall 


Of  Heaven,  AND  HOPE  TO  HAVE  IT  AFTER  ALL/* 

(Vol.  I.  p.  8.) 

His  relation  to  his  Contemporaries  I  have  already  in- 
dicated  in  I.  Biographical.  Too  early  for  know 
ing  Shakespeare — away  down  in  Stratford,  not  in 
London,  unless  on  a  chance-visit — we  have  found  him 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccv. 

couched  at  the  feet  of  *  Rare  Ben,'  and  a  welcome  guest 
among  the  immortals.  It  is  pleasant  to  read  his  gene 
rous  praise  of  his  younger  brethren — as  DENHAM  and 
CHARLES  COTTON.  They  in  turn,  doubtless,  looked 
up  to  him.  Two  of  his  poems  got  among  the  posthu 
mously-published  Poems  of  Thomas  Carew,  viz,  "  The 
Enquiry"  (Vol.  II.,  p.  3),  and  "The  Primrose" 
(Vol.  II.,  p.  177).  Both  appeared  in  "Wit's  Recrea 
tions"  (1640),  and  both  were  reclaimed  from  thence  for 
Hesperides.  It  is  most  likely  in  tacit  reference  to  these 
and  possibly  others,  that  he  affirmed  his  express  pro 
prietorship  of  all,  as  thus  : — 

"  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  lawfull  plate) 
And  no  Verse  illegitimate."      (Vol.  II.  p.  223.) 

It  is  more  than  satisfying  that  the  great  and  good 
John  Selden,  though  no  Royalist,  won  his  reverence 
and  affection.  It  is  characteristic  of  the  spacious- 
hearted  man  that  he  had  words  of  praise  and  recog 
nition  for  merit  wherever  met  His  judgments 
are  invariably  sound.  It  surprised  me,  I  own,  to  come 


ccvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

on  his  estimate  of  Mildmay,  Earl  of  Westmoreland,  as 
a  Poet ;  but,  guided  by  his  estimate,  to  his  privately- 
printed  "  Otia  Sacra  ",  I  was  more  than  rewarded. 
Until  the  whole  is  given  (in  my  "  Occasional  Issues  ") 
let  this  little  poem  gain  for  itself  a  reading,  as  warranting 
Herrick's  counsel  to  '  print '  : — 

Quid  amabilius. 
If  I  must  needs  Discover 
I  am  in  Love  :  be  Christ  again  my  Lover, 

And  let  His  Passion  bring 
My  actions  to  their  touch  and  censuring  : 

Who  in  this  world  was  born, 
Liv'd  in  it,  and  was  put  to  death  with  scorn, 

That  I  to  Sin  might  die, 
Being  born  again  to  live  eternally  : 
Thus  PI  no  longer  make 
Addresses  to  my  Glass  for  this  curies  sake, 

Or  that  quaint  garb,  whereby 
I  may  enchanted  be  with  flattery  : 
Nor  on  luxurious  vow, 
Becircling  Rosebuds  seek  to  gird  my  brow ; 

But  with  a  melting  thought 
Bring  home  that  Ransom  whereat  twas  bought, 

In  Contemplation 
Of  that  same  Platted  Crown  He  once  had  on. 

And  when  my  Glove  or  Shoo 
Want  Ribbond,  call  for  th'  Nails  that  pierced  Him  too  : 

Else  farther  to  be  drest, 
Borrow  the  Tincture  of  His  naked  brest : 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccvii. 

Nor  wash,  but  in  Soul  Pride, 
Then  use  no  other  Bason  but  His  Side  : 

So,  up  and  ready,  think 
How  He,  for  Me,  low  in  the  grave  did  sink, 

That  I  again  might  rise 
With  Him,  who  was  both  Priest  and  Sacrifice, 

To  make  atonement  in 
The  Difference  'twixt  his  Father's  wrath,  Mans*  sin  ; 

Whereto  it  must  remain, 
That  I  through  Faith  requite  this  love  again. 

(Otia  Sacra,  p.  70.)        V 

IV.  Tfie  specialities  of  his  Poetry. — I  do  not  say  that 
'  specialities '  is  the  best  possible  word  to  express  my 
purpose  in  the  present  observations ;  but  I  wanted 
to  mark  out  something  more  definite  than  *  character 
istics  ' — all  the  more  that  I  have  already  stated  and 
illustrated  his  *  characteristics '  as  Man  and  Poet  in 
working  out  a  higher  object.  These  five  things  include 
what  I  wish  to  note  for  the  Reader  : — 

1.  His  imaginative  realism. 

2.  His  realistic  imaginativeness. 

3.  His  exquisiteness  and  brightness  of  fancies. 

4.  His  allusive  readinr 

5.  His  sacred  verse. 

i.  His  imaginative  realism.  I  am  thinking  now  of  the 
fidelity  with  which  he  puts  before  you  what  he  elects  to 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


i  sing  '  of.  He  can  be  as  coarsely  and  offensively 
realistic  as  any  be-praised  Dutch  '  interior '  painter  ; 
and  he  is  by  no  means  fastidious  in  his  choice  of  sight 
or  theme.  But  at  his  best  his  realism  is  touched  like 
the  opal-edge  of  clouds  just  after  sunset,  with  imagina 
tion.  Look  at  his  Primroses.  They  are  not  mere 
'  yellow  primroses,'  not  even  Wordsworth's  interpene 
trated  with  matter  of  direct  ethical  and  spiritual  teach 
ing,  but  himself  ageing,  what  a  light  of  glory  lies  on  them 
as  'fill'd  with  dew'  they  interpret  the  changefulness  of 
human  experiences.  Let  us  read  : — 

"  To  Primroses  Jill'  d  'with  morning-dew. 

i .  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  years  ; 

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. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccix. 

2.  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, 
Conceiv'd  with  grief  are,  and  with  teares  brought  forth." 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  181-2.) 

Of  the  same  type,  but  though  worn  through  quotation, 
not  nearly  so  fine  as  the  '  Primroses '  nor  so  original,  is 
his  "  Gather  ye  Rose-buds  while  ye  may."1  This  imagi 
nativeness  is  absent  from  none  of  those  Poems  that 
give  Herrick  his  peculiar  place  among  the  Poets  of 
England ;  and  I  call  attention  to  it,  because  it  is  so 
common  to  take  him  at  his  lowly  self-estimate,  and  look 
no  deeper,  e.  g.  thus,  Mr.  Gosse  writes  of  Hesperides,  as 

1  Mr.  Robert  Roberts,  of  Boston,  has  recently  issued  a  delightful 
booklet  yclept  "  Poesies  of  Roses  "  (8vo.  pp.  22)  wherein  he  has 
brought  together  several  interesting  variants  on  "  Gather  ye  Roses.** 
In  Forbes'  Cantus  a  poor  answer  to  Herrick  is  found. 


ccx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"  songs,  children  of  the  West,  brought  forth  in  the  soft, 
sweet  air  of  Devonshire."  "  The  Poet,"  says  he, 
"  strikes  a  key-note  with  wonderful  sureness  in  the 
opening  couplets  of  the  opening  poem  : — 

'  I  sing  of  brookes,  of  blossoms,  birds  and  bowers, 
Of  April,  May,  of  June,  and  July  flowers. 
I  sing  of  maypoles,  hock-carts,  wassails,  wakes, 
Of  bridegrooms,  brides,  and  of  their  bridal  cakes/ 

It  would  not  have  been  easy  to  describe  more  cor 
rectly  what  he  does  sing  of.  The  book  is  full  of  all 
those  pleasant  things  of  spring  and  summer,  full  of 
young  love,  happy  nature,  and  the  joy  of  mere  existence. 
As  far  as  flowers  are  concerned,  the  atmosphere  is  full 
of  them.  One  is  pelted  with  roses  and  daffodils  from 
every  page,  and  no  one  dares  enter  the  sacred  precincts 
without  a  crown  of  blossoms  on  his  hair.  Herrick's 
sun  might  be  that  stray  Venus  of  Botticelli's,  which 
rises,  rosy  and  dewy,  from  a  sparkling  sea,  blown  at  by 
the  little  laughing  winds,  and  showered  upon  with  vio 
lets  and  lilies  of  no  earthly  growth.  He  tells  us  that  for 
years  and  years  his  muse  was  content  to  stay  at  home, 
or,  straying  from  village  to  village,  to  pipe  to  handsome 
young  shepherds  and  girls  of  flower-sweet  breath,  but 
that  at  last  she  became  ambitious  to  try  her  skill  at 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxi. 

Court,  and  so  came  into  print  in  London.     In  other 
words,  these  little  poems  circulated  widely  in  manu 
script  long  before  they  were  published  "  (p.  182).     All 
true  so  far  as  it  goes  ;  but  beyond  the  '  simple  sights ' 
and  transfiguring  the  humblest  '  flowers,'  there  is  a  subtle 
light,  sometimes  pure  as  the  white  light,  sometimes  pur 
pled  ;  and  pensive  thoughtfulness  and  tender  meditative- 
ness  born  of  imagination — not  an  imagination  grand  as 
Dante's   or   Milton's,  but  of  kin  with  Spenser  in  his 
*  gentle '  mood,  and  infinitely  above  your  modern  word- 
painter  whose  realism  is  a  bootless  effort  to  transform 
the  pen  into  a  brush.     It  matters  not  what  Herrick 
describes — he  gives  you  its  very  "  form  and  pressure," 
and  over  it,  as  the  seven-fold  rainbow  breaking  into  in 
effable  fragments  under  its  load  of  rain,  or  before  the 
blast  of  the  wind ;  and  better  than  saint's  nimbus,  you 
have  the  '  final  touch  '  in  epithet  or  in  break  of  music, 
that  differentiates  the  Poet  from  the  Versifier.     Even 
when  it  is  the  artificial — not  nature — he  sings  of,  there 
is  this  presence  of  the  Poet's  imaginativeness.     Thus  in 
his  "  Bracelet  of  Pearls  :  to  Silvia,"  you  have  not  only 
nicest  and  daintiest,  not  coarse  workmanship,  but  the 
suggestion  of  a  whole  sphere  of  living  romance,  and 
that  by  one  name  linking  on  to  the  great  Past.     Again 
let  us  read : 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  I  Brake  thy  Bracelet  'gainst  my  will ; 

And,  wretched,  I  did  see 
Thee  discomposed  then,  and  still 
Art  discontent  with  me. 

One  jemme  was  lost ;  and  I  will  get 

A  richer  pearle  for  thee, 
Then  ever,  dearest  Silvia,  yet 

Was  drunk  to  Antonie. 

Or,  for  revenge,  Tie  tell  thee  what 
Thou  for  the  breach  shalt  do ; 

First,  crack  the  strings,  and  after  that, 
Cleave  thou  my  heart  in  two." 

(Vol.  II.  pp.  230-1.) 

I  do  not  deem  it  expedient  to  enlarge  on  this  ;  but 
if  the  Reader  will  turn  to  "  A  Country  Life  :  to  his 
Brother,  M.  Tho:  Herrick"  (Vol.  I.  pp.  57-64),  and  to 
"The  Hock-Cart  or  Harvest-home,  to  the  Earl  of 
Westmoreland"  (Vol.  I.  pp.  175-8),  the  former  being 
on  Horatian  wings — one  of  Herrick's  best-sustained 
and  noblest  flights,  and  the  latter  deliciously  fresh  and 
vivid,  and  with  a  matchless  flavour  of  dear  old  England 
— he  will  discover  abundant  evidence  of  that  imagi 
nativeness  that  suffuses  his  realism  which  I  am  now 
insisting  upon.  Then  in  his  "  Panegerick  to  Sir  Lewis 
Pemberton"  (Vol.  II.  p.  71)  he  will  find  the  same 
speciality,  and  humour  and  vigour  besides. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxiii. 


Finally  here,  "  No  one  has  ever  known  better  than 
Herrick  how  to  seize,  without  effort,  and  yet  to  absolute 
perfection,  the  pretty  points  of  modern  pastoral  life. 
Of  all  these  poems  of  his,  none  surpasses  '  Corinna's 
going  a-Maying,'  which  has  something  of  Wordsworth's 
faultless  instinct  and  delicate  perception.1  The  picture 
given  here  of  the  slim  boys  and  the  girls  in  green 
gowns  going  out  singing  into  the  corridors  of  blossom 
ing  whitethorn,  when  the  morning  sky  is  radiant  in  all 
its  'fresh-quilted  colours,'  is  ravishing,  and  can  only 
be  compared  for  its  peculiar  charm  with  that  other 
where  the  maidens  are  seen  at  sunset,  with  silvery 
naked  feet  and  dishevelled  hair  crowned  with  honey 
suckle,  bearing  cowslips  home  in  wicker  baskets. 
Whoever  will  cast  his  eye  over  the  pages  of  Hesperides 
will  meet  with  myriads  of  original  and  charming 
passages  of  this  kind  : 

'  Like  to  a  solemn  sober  stream 
Bankt  all  with  lilies,  and  the  cream 
Of  sweetest  cowslips  filling  them.' 

the  *  cream  of  cowslips '  being  the  rich  yellow  antlers 
of  water-lilies.  Or  thus,  comparing  a  bride's  breath  to 
the  faint,  sweet  odour  of  the  earth  : — 

1  I  venture  to  add  that  Herrick's  "Christian  Militant"  (Vol.  II. 
p.  40)  may  take  its  place  beside  Wordsworth's  "  Happy  Warrior." 


ccxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

'  A  savour  like  unto  a  blessed  field 
When  the  bedabbled  morn 
Washes  the  golden  ears  of  corn.' 

[I  intercalate  that  in  1.  i  the  allusion  is  Biblical,  viz. 
to  Genesis  xxvii.  27.]     Or  thus,  a  sketched  interior  : — 

'  Yet  can  thy  humble  roof  maintain  a  choir 

Of  singing  crickets  by  the  fire, 
And  the  brisk  mouse  may  feed  herself  with  crumbs, 
Till  that  the  green-eyed  kitling  comes.' 

"Nor  did  the  homeliest  details  of  the  household 
escape  him.  At  Dean  Prior  his  clerical  establishment 
consisted  of  Prudence  Baldwin,  his  ancient  maid;  of 
a  cock  and  hen,  a  goose,  a  tame  lamb,  a  cat,  a  spaniel, 
and  a  pet  pig,  learned  enough  to  drink  out  of  a 
tankard ;  and  not  only  did  the  genial  Vicar  divide  his 
loving  attention  between  the  various  members  of  this 
happy  family,  but  he  was  wont,  a  little  wantonly  one 
fears,  to  gad  about  to  wakes  and  wassailings,  and  to 
increase  his  popular  reputation  by  showing  off  his 
marvellous  learning  in  old  rites  and  ceremonies.  These 
he  has  described  with  loving  minuteness,  and  not  these 
only,  but  even  the  little  acts  of  cookery  do  not  escape 
him.  Of  all  his  household  poems  not  one  is  more 
characteristic  and  complete  than  the  '  Bride-cake,' 


ME  MORI  A  L-INTROD  UCTION.  ccxv. 

which  we  remember  naving  had  recited  to  us  years  ago 
with  immense  gusto,  at  the  making  of  a  great  pound 
cake,  by  a  friend  now  widely  enough  known  as  a 
charming  follower  of  Herrick's  poetic  craft : — 

'  The  Bride-cake. 

This  day,  my  Julia,  thou  must  make 
For  Mistress  Bride,  the  wedding  cake ; 
Knead  but  the  dough,  and  it  will  be 
To  paste  of  almonds  turned  by  thee, 
Or  kiss  it,  but  once  or  twice, 
And  for  the  bride-cake  there'll  be  spice.'  " 

(Mr.  Gosse,  as  before,  pp.  184-5.) 

What  a  vision  of  Julia  in  her  radiant  beauty  all  rosy 
under  such  a  compliment  has  the  most  prosaic  reader 
in  "  The  Bride-cake."  And  so  it  is  throughout.  Not 
one  of  even  the  *  household  poems '  is  without  its  touch 
of  imaginative  realism. 

2.  His  realistic  imaginativeness.  I  refer  here  mainly 
to  his  Poems  of  'Fairy,'  wherein  you  have  not  such 
thin  bodiless  Impersonations  as  in  COLLINS'  Ode.  to 
the  Passions,  and  even  in  Gray  (if  I  may  dare  the 
heresy),  but  substantive  and  living.  On  this  Mr.  Gosse 
(as  before)  writes  finely,  though  in  one  place  mis 
takenly,  as  we  shall  see : — "  Before  we  turn  to  more 
general  matters,  there  is  one  section  of  the  Hesperides 


ccxvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

that  demands  a  moment's  attention,  that  namely,  de 
voted  to  the  description  of  Fairyland  and  its  inhabi 
tants.  -We  have  seen  that  it  was,  probably,  the  per 
formance  of  Ben  Jonson's  pretty  masque  of  '  Oberon ' 
that  set  Herrick  dreaming  about  that  misty  land  where 
elves  sit  eating  butterflies'  horns  round  little  mushroom 
tables,  or  quaff  draughts 

'  Of  pure  seed-pearl  of  morning  dew, 
Brought  and  besweetened  in  a  blue, 
And  pregnant  Violet.' 

/  And  with  him  the  poetic  literature  of  Fairyland  ended. 
He  was  its  last  laureate,  for  the  Puritans  thought  its 
rites,  though  so  shadowy,  superstitious,  and  frowned 
upon  their  celebration,  while  the  whole  temper  of  the 
Restoration,  gross  and  dandified  at  the  same  time,  was 
foreign  to  Such  pure  play  of  the  imagination.  But 
some  of  the  greatest  names  of  the  great  period  had 
entered  its  sacred  bounds  and  sung  its  praises. 
Shakespeare  had  done  it  eternal  honour  in  Mid 
summer  Night's  Dream,  and  Drayton  had  written 
an  elaborate  epic  (?)  The  Court  of  Faerie.  Jonson's 
friend,  Bishop  Corbet,  had  composed  fairy  ballads  that 
had  much  of  Herrick's  lightness  about  them.  It  was 
these  literary  traditions  that  Herrick  carried  with  him 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxvii. 

into  the  West ;  it  does  not  seem  that  he  collected  any 
fresh  information  about  the  mushroom  world  in  Devon 
shire  ;  we  read  nothing  of  river-wraiths  or  pixies  in  his 
poems.  He  adds,  however,  a  great  deal  of  ingenious 
fancy  to  the  stores  he  received  from  his  elders,  and  his 
fairy-poems,  all  written  in  octo-syllabic  verse,  as  though 
forming  parts  of  one  projected  work,  may  be  read  with 
great  interest  as  a  kind  of  final  compendium  of  all 
that  the  poets  of  the  iyth  century  imagined  about 
fairies"  (pp.  186). 

Mr.  Gosse  is  again  strangely  wrong  as  to  the  source 
of  Herrick's  '  Fairy '  poems.  Misled  by  the  title — and 
the  mere  title  or  one  word  '  Oberon '  never  could  sug 
gest  such  poems — he  assigns  to  Jonson  his  inspiration. 
But  Jonson's  '  Oberon '  has  nothing  whatever  on  Fairies 
or  Fairy-land ;  nor  indeed  were  such  dainty  things  at  all 
in  his  way.  One  is  indeed  puzzled  at  the  absence  of 
the  '  Fairies '  in  'Oberon'  until  it  is  found  that  Jonson's 
'  Oberon '  is  a  prince  of  sixteen.  Herrick's  splendid 
praise  of  *  Rare  Ben  '  and  occasional  touches,  as  in  his 
"  Delight  in  Disorder  "  (Vol.  I.  46)  assure  us  that  he 
was  his  willing  subject ;  but  in  not  one  bit  could  he 
have  been  indebted  to  him  for  his  '  Fairy '  creations. 
For  them  it  is  a  pleasure  to  think  of  Drayton's  Nymph- 
idia  and  Shakespeare's  Midsummer's  Night  Dream  and 


ccxviii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Romeo  and  Juliet.  Thither  and  not  at  all  in  Jonson's 
spectacular  '  Oberon '  must  we  look  for  Herrick's  pre 
parative  reading  and  impress.1 

Let  the  reader  turn  and  return  on  these  'Fairy'  poems. 
Let  him  note  their  quaintness,  their  apt  names,  their  sly 
humour,  their  fantastique  of  exploit,  their  oddity  of 
invention,  their  drollery  of  feasting,  their  jets  of  tricksy 
wit,  their  quizzical  hitting  of  modern  foibles  through 
superstitious  rites  (the  Poet's  pen  transfixing  the 
vinegar-faced  fool  as  with  a  needle),  their  ripple  of 
soft  laughter,  their  swift  changefulness  (as  of  peacock's 
crest,  or  humming-bird's  breast,  or  dove's  neck),  their 
ingenuous  credulities.  I  know  not  that  anywhere  we 
can  turn  to  Poems  of  Imagination  so  '  compact,'  and  at 
/  the  same  time  so  airy,  so  real-seeming  and  yet  of 
subtlest  imagination.  It  is  well  to  read  the  whole 
group  successively  but  together,  viz.  "  The  Fairie 
Temple;  or  Oberon's  Chappell "  (Vol.  I.  pp.  156-163), 
and  "Oberon's  Feast"  (VoL  II.  pp.  24-27),  and 
"Oberon's  Palace"  (Vol.  II.  pp.  104-9),  and  "The 
Beggar"  (Vol.  II.  pp.  202-3),  and  "  The  Hagg"  (Vol. 
II.  pp.  205-6).2 

1  See   before  on    Herrick's    reading   of   Marlowe  and   Greene 
and  Shirley. 
"  Even  in  Thomas  Randolph's  Amyntas  (1638)  there  are  oddi- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxix. 

His  "  Epithalamiums  "  and  other  marriage  and  birth 
day  poems  have  the  same  speciality  of  realistic  imagi 
nativeness.  You  have  the  actual  '  fair  ladies '  and 
'  brave  men/  but  there  is  a  splendour  of  imagination 
prodigally  lavished  on  the  use  and  wont  of  'good  wishes.' 
Of  the  Epithalamiums  Mr.  Gosse  thus  speaks  : — "  The 
epithalamium  is  a  form  of  verse  which  had  a  very  bright 
period  of  existence  in  England,  and  which  has  long 
been  completely  extinct.  [Revived  gorgeously  by 
Dante  G.  Rossetti,  as  in  a  quieter  way  by  Coventry 
Patmore  earlier.]  Its  theme  and  manner  gave  too 
much  opportunity  to  lavish  adulation  on  the  one  hand, 
and  unseemly  inuendo  on  the  other,  to  suit  the  preciser 
manners  of  our  more  reticent  age,  but  it  flourished  for 
the  brief  period  contained  between  1600  and  1650,  and 
produced  some  exquisite  masterpieces.  The  '  Epitha 
lamium'  and  'Prothalamion'  of  Spenser  struck  the  key 
note  of  a  fashion  that  Drayton,  Ben  Jonson,  [Donne]  and 

ties  of  'Fairy '  possessions  that  might  have  been  admitted  into 
41  Oberon's  Palace,"  e.g.  :— 
"  Do.  A  curious  Parke. 

Pal'd  round  about  with  Pick-teeth. 
lo.  Besides  a  house  made  all  of  mother  of  Pearle ; 

An  Ivory  Tenniscourt. 
Dor.  A  nut-meg  Parlour. 
lo.  A  Saphyre  dary-roome. 
Dor.  A  Ginger  Hall."     (1640  ed.  p.  34.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


others  adorned,  and  of  which  Herrick  was  the  last,  and 
far  from  the  least  ardent  votary.  His  confidential  muse 
was  delighted  at  being  asked  in  to  arrange  the  cere 
monies  of  a  nuptial  feast,  and  described  the  bride  and 
her  surroundings  with  a  world  of  pretty  extravagance. 
Every  admirer  of  Herrick  should  read  the  '  Nuptial 
Ode  on  Sir  Clipseby  Crew  and  his  Lady.'  It  is  ad 
mirably  fanciful,  and  put  together  with  consummate 
skill.  It  opens  with  a  choral  out-burst  of  greeting  to 
the  bride : — 

*  What's  that  we  see  from  far  ?  the  spring  of  day 
Bloom'd  from  the  east,  or  fair  enjewelled  May 
Blown  out  of  April  ?  or  some  new 
Star  filled  with  glory  to  our  view 

Reaching  at  heaven, 
To  add  a  nobler  planet  to  the  seven  ? ' 

Less  and  less  dazzled,  he  declares  her  to  be  some 
goddess  floating  out  of  Elysium  in  a  cloud  of  tiffany. 
He  leaves  the  church  treading  upon  scarlet  and  amber, 
and  spicing  the  chafed  air  with  fumes  of  Paradise. 
Then  they  watch  her  coming  towards  them  down  the 
shining  street,  whose  very  pavement  breathes  out 
spikenard.  But  who  is  this  that  meets  her  ?  Hymen 
with  his  fair  white  feet,  and  head  with  marjoram 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxxi. 

crowned,  who  lifts  his  torch,  and,  behold  !  by  his  side 
the  bridegroom  stands,  flushed  and  ardent.  Then  the 
maids  shower  them  with  shamrock  and  roses,  and  so 
the  dreamy  verses  totter  under  their  load  of  perfumed 
words,  till  they  close  with  a  benediction  over  the  new 
married  couple,  and  a  peal  of  maiden  laughter  over 
love  anci  its  flower-like  mysteries"  (p,  186).  Fit  com 
panion  for  the  Clipseby  Crew  "  Nuptial  Ode  "  is  the 
"  Epithalamie  to  Sir  Thomas  Southwell  and  his  Ladie" 
(Vol.  I.  pp.  90-99)  which  holds  its  own  even  beside 
Donne's. 

Another  group  of  Poems  that  illustrate  his  realistic 
imaginativeness  is  what  may  be  called  his  verse-gifts — 
of  which  he  must  have  been  lavish — to  friends  and 
neighbours.  These  were  evidently  flung  off  at  the  mo 
ment;  but  the  most  careless  (as  a  rule)  reveal  the 
inspired  Singer.  His  celebrations  of  his  own  numerous 
family  of  brothers  and  sisters — his  guardian-uncle,  Sir 
William  Herrick,  notably  absent,  as  the  old  *  curmud 
geon'  (Scottce)  deserved — and  his  mother's  circle  of 
relatives  and  kinsmen,  are  charming.  Among  the 
former,  as  though  to  favour  the  Poet,  was  his  sweet- 
named  sister  '  Mercy.'  Among  the  latter,  men  of  mark 
in  the  '  city '  and  State,  and  otherwise — as  the  Soames 
and  Stones  and  the  like.  A  careful  study  of  these  will  re- 


ccxxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

ward,  for  they  will  be  found  not  exaggerate,  but  true, 
imaginative,  but  realistic.  I  should  scarcely  know 
where  to  hold  my  hand  if  I  began  quotation  from  these 
Poems.  I  therefore  will  not  begin ;  but  I  cannot 
withhold  his  own  favourite,  his  "  Lilly  in  a  Christal," 
which  in  various  ways  still  further  exemplifies  the 
present  speciality.  In  this  instance  the  Poet  was  not 
as  so  often  wrong  in  his  high  and  preferring  estimate. 

"  The  Lilly  in  a  Christal. 

You  have  beheld  a  smiling  Rose 

When  Virgins  hands  have  drawn 

O'r  it  a  Cobweb- Lawne  : 
And  here,  you  see,  this  Lilly  shows, 

Tomb'd  in  a  Christal  stone, 
More  faire  in  this  transparent  case, 

Then  when  it  grew  alone  ;  [than 

And  had  but  single  grace. 

You  see  how  Creame  but  naked  is  ; 

Nor  daunces  in  the  eye 
Without  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  [than 

No  mixture  did  admit. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          ccxxii,. 

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  aire  : 
Where  either  too  much  light,  his  worth 

Doth  all  at  once  impaire, 

Or  set  it  little  forth. 

Put  Purple  grapes,  or  Cherries  in- 

To  Glasse,  and  they  will  send 

More  beauty  to  commend 
Them,  from  that  cleane  and  subtile  skin, 

Then  if  they  naked  stood,  {than 

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  [than 

At  full  their  proper  excellence ; 

Without  some  Scean  cast  over, 
To  juggle  with  the  sense. 

Thus  let  this  Christal'd  Lillie  be 

A  Rule,  how  far  to  teach, 

Your  nakednesse  must  reach  : 
And  that,  no  further,  then  we  see 


:cxxiv.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

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." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  129-31.) 

I  must  content  myself  with  two  other  examples  of  his 
realistic  imaginativeness  as  distinguished  from  his  im 
aginative  realism — a  distinction  that  it  may  be  assumed 
will  be  admitted  after  our  remarks  and  illustrations — 
namely,  his  "  Amber  Bead  "  and  "  Upon  her  Feet." 
Take  them  both  :— 

"  The  Amber  Bead. 

I  saw  a  Flie,  within  a  Beade 
Of  Amber  cleanly  buried  : 
The  Urne  was  little,  but  the  room 
More  rich  then  Cleopatra's  Tombe."         \than 
(Vol.  II.  p.  280.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxxv. 

One  does  not  think  so  much,  on  reading  this  little 
snatch,  of.  Martial  and  his  epigram  (Book  IV.  32) 
which  is  elsewhere  recalled  by  Herrick  himself  ("  Upon 
a  Flie":  Vol.  II.  p.  140)  as  of  the  lines  attributed  to  no 
less  than  Milton  in  our  day  by  Professor  Morley.  For 
my  part  I  cannot  accept  the  illustrious  authorship  ;  but 
it  is  interesting  to  find  an  echo  of  our  Poet  in  its  close, 
as  thus : — 

"  For  so  this  little  wanton  elf 
Most  gloriously  enshrined  itself  : — 
A  tomb  whose  beauty  might  compare 
With  Cleopatra's  sepulchre." 

Perhaps  Martial  was  the  source  common  to  each,  viz. 
his  'Viper  in  Amber'  (B.  IV.  56);  and  the  point  is,  that 
the  renowned  Queen  Cleopatra  died  by  a  '  viper ' 
(Shakespeare's  'worm')  and  had  a  tomb  (with  Anthony) 
finished  by  Augustus,  that  long  remained  a  world's 
wonder.1  Now  for 

1  "In  respect  to  the  viper,  Paley  and  Stone  observe :  "  This  must 
be  taken  as  a  poetic  hyperbole  for  some  small  creeping  thing.  The 
point  of  the  epigram,  indeed,  turns  on  its  being  a  real  snake  ;  but 
this  is  hardly  possible.  The  ancients  were  aware  of  the  true  na 
ture  of  amber.  See  Pliny."  These  excellent  scholars  are  mis 
taken.  A  piece  of  amber  has  been  found  in  Jutland  that  weighed 
twenty -seven  pounds  ;  and  in  the  Royal  Mineral  Cabinet  at  Berlin 

P 


ccxxvi.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Upon  her  feet. 

"  Her  pretty  feet 

Like  snailes  did  creep 
A  little  out,  and  then, 
As  if  they  started  at  Bo- Beep, 
Did  soon  draw  in  agen."     (Vol.  II.  p.  153.) 

I  must  pronounce  this  as  truer  and  finelier  wrought  than 
Sir  John  Suckling's  every-where-known  comparison  to 
mice,  thus : — 

"  Her  feet  beneath  her  petticoat, 
Like  little  mice,  stole  in  and  out, 

As  if  they  feared  the  light : 
But  oh  !  she  dances  such  a  way 
No  sun  upon  an  Easter  day 

Is  half  so  fine  a  sight." 


It  was  daring  in  Herrick  to  write  down  what  he  himself 
had  really  seen,  the  quick  movement — as  of  insects 
antennae — of  the  snail's  ' horns'  if  in  the  slightest 
touched,  whether  by  a  hindering  '  bent '  or  falling  dew- 
is  another  piece  weighing  13^  pounds.  It  is  13!  inches  long,  8£ 
inches  broad,  5  inches  and  five-eighths  high  on  the  one  side,  and 
3 1  inches  on  the  other.  Similar  large  pieces  of  gum-copal,  with 
insects,  &c.,  imbedded,  are  found  in  Africa.  See  Livingstone's 
"  Last  Journals,"  I.  pp.  29,  182. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        ccxxvii. 

drop,  or  sound  of  human  voice — for  self-evidently  that 
was  what  the  Poet  had  in  recollection.  I  feel  perfectly 
satisfied  that  it  originated  with  our  Poet's  actual  observa 
tion,  and  independent  of  Suckling's  ballad,  albeit  none 
would  more  relish  the  famous  ballad  when  it  reached 
him,  along  with  his  own  poems,  in  "Wit's  Recreations" 
of  1 640.  The  fact  of  prior  publication  (not  necessarily 
prior  composition)  of  the  "  Wedding,"  and  nevertheless 
"Upon  her  feet"  being  given  in  Hesperides,  assures 
us  that  Herrick  knew  his  own  originality.  You  have 
only  to  get  over  the  association  with  the  word  and 
thing  '  snail,'  and  stoop  to  see  the  strange  beauty  of  the 
little  creature,  ay,  even  in  its  track  as  it  innocently 
'  creeps '  along  glisteringly,  and,  above  all,  its  human- 
eye-like  sensitiveness  to  touch  or  sound,  to  clap  hands 
over  Herrick's  unique  comparison  of  the  '  pretty  feet ' 
of  "  Mistresse  Susanna  Southwell." 

3.  His  exquisiteness  and  brightness  of  fancy.  These 
are  such  specialities  of  Herrick's  Poems  that  no  one  can 
miss  them — unless,  like  a  blind  man  trampling  over 
flowers,  he  is  eyeless  and  earless,  and  heartless  as  well. 
His  many  Epitaphs  and  Memorial-verses  first  of  all, 
strike  us  for  their  delicacy  and  tenderness,  in  short,  for 
their  unsurpassed  exquisiteness.  As  less  known  than 
others,  I  ask  the  Reader  to  dwell  on  this : — 


ccxxviii.        MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"  An  Epitaph  upon  a  Virgin. 

Here  a  solemne  Fast  we  keepe, 

While  all  beauty  lyes  asleep 

Husht  be  all  things ;  no  noyse  here, 

But  the  toning  of  a  teare  : 

Or  a  sigh  of  such  as  bring 

Cowslips  for  her  covering/*    (Vol.  II.  p.  113.) 

Then  how  dainty  and  subtle  and  original-fancied  is  his 
"  Impossibilities  to  his  Friend,"  as  thus  : — 

"  My  faithful  friend,  if  you  can  see 
The  Fruit  to  grow  up,  or  the  Tree  : 
If  you  can  see  the  colour  come 
Into  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/5 

(Vol.  I.  p.  137-) 

The  conclusion  is  somewhat  de  trop,  but  the  imagery 
for  the  '  impossibilities,'  of  the  '  colour '  coming  into  the 
plum,  of  the  l  ice,'  and  of  '  dreams/  seems  to  me  super- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          ccxxix. 

latively  fine.  Horace  has  nothing  to  equal,  much  less 
surpass,  "His  Poetrie  his  Pillar."  The  light-hearted 
Latin  poet  knew  little  of  the  pathos  of  this  unsurpass 
able  little  Poem,  if  his  shout  of  *  exegi '  tell  us  he  had 
the  Poet's  lofty  self-estimate.  Let  the  Reader  again 
'  dwell '  on  this,  and  mark  -the  exquisiteness  of  the 
opening,  and  how  the  softness  dilates  into  strength 
and  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  Egypt  and  its  thousands- 
yeared  'pyramids.' 

"  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. 

O  time  that  cut'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  ? 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


Behold  this  living  stone, 

I  reare  for  me, 

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."  (Vol.  I.  p.  146.) 

Of  the  same  in  kind  and  in  elements  as  exquisitely  done 
as  "  His  Poetrie  His  Pillar,"  and  reminding  us  that  he 
should  scarce  have  thanked  his  kinsman  for  the  erection 
of  the  recent  great  monument,  but  have  preferred  a  yew 
or  beech  to  have  flung  their  greenness  and  dropped 
their  cones  and  nuts  in  season  over  his  grave,  is  his 

"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  : 

Which  being  seen, 
Blest  with  perpetuall  greene, 

May  grow  to  be 
Not  so  much  call'd  a  tree, 
As  the  eternall  monument  of  me."      (Vol.  I.  p.  50.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         ccxxxi. 

It  were  easy  to  multiply  examples  and  proofs  of  his 
exquisiteness  of  thinking  and  feeling  and  workman 
ship.  I  can  only  tarry  to  illustrate  his  brightness  of 
fancy  as  in  combination  with  his  exquisiteness.  Even 
when  he  is  pensive  and  'melancholy,'  there  is  this 
colour  and  brightness.  I  invite  the  Student  to  read 
and  re-read  this  : — 

"  To  Blossoms. 

Faire  pledges  of  a  fruitfull  Tree, 
Why  do  yee  fall  so  fast  ?"  &c. 

(Vol.  II.  p.  124.) 

Homelier — as  was  fitting — but  all  radiant  with  the  glow 
of  gratitude  that  burned  in  his  '  thankful  heart/  is  his 
"Thanksgiving  to  God,  for  his  home,"  wherein  too 
there  are  touches  of  exquisite  perfectness,  and  the  whole 
such  a  poem  as  inevitably  makes  us  love  even  to-day  the 
genial  old  Vicar  in  his  lowly  contentment  and  open- 
handed  bounty.  Here  it  is : — 

"  Lord,  Thou  hast  given  me  a  cell 
Wherein  to  dwell,"  &c. 

(Vol.  III.  pp.  135-8.) 

Next  take  his  peerless  "To  Daffodils,"  than  which 
surely  there  is  no  flower-poem  at  once  so  weighty  and 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


so  sweet,  so  lovely  and  also  impressive,  consummate  in 
its  art  and  enduring  in  its  charm  : — 

"  To  Dajfadills. 

1 .  Faire  Daffadills,  we  weep  to  see 

You  haste  away  so  soone  : 
As  yet  the  early-rising  Sun 
Has  not  attained  his  Noone. 

Stay,  stay, 
Untill  the  hasting  day 

Has  run 

But  to  the  Even-song  ; 

And,  having  pray'd  together,  we 

Will  go  with  you  along. 

2.  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. 

We  die, 
As  your  hours  doe,  and  drie 

Away, 

Like  to  the  Summers  raine  ; 
Or  as  the  pearles  of  Mornings  dew 
Ne'r  to  be  found  againe." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  35.) 

Finally  :  There  is  his  "  To  Anthea  " — one  of  various 
to  this  *  fair  lady/  which,  starting  from  the  mere  grass 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          ccxxxiii. 

as  starts  the  lark,  lifts  us  up  like  the  lark  into  the 
blinding  summer  sky,  and  fills  even  that  vast  cathedral 
with  melody  : — 

"  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. 

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  bid  me  die,  and  I  will  dare 

E'en  Death,  to  die  for  thee. 


ccxxxiv.        MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

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."  (Vol.  II.  pp.  6-7.) 

As  distinguished  from  complete  Poems,  there  are 
lavishly  scattered  over  Hesperides  lines  and  couplets 
and  bits  that  equally  show  Herrick's  exquisiteness  and 
brightness.  Two  recur  on  the  instant.  The  first  is  of 
Tears — "  Teares  are  the  noble  language  of  the  eye  " 
(Vol.  I.  p.  100).  The  other  I  will  quote  because 
a  parallel  in  a  Master  of  his  art,  our  living  Poet- 
Laureate, — who  by  the  way,  in  our  occasional  foot 
notes,  is  seen  to  have  studied  Herrick  appreciatively — 
is  a  typical  instance  of  the  ancient  Poet's  still  more  ex 
quisite  instinct  in  his  choice  of  words.  In  his  lines 
"  To  Dianeme  "  he  thus  sang  : — 

"  If  thou  composed  of  gentle  mould 

Art  so  unkind  to  me ; 
What  dismall  Stories  will  be  told 

Of  those  that  cruell  be  ?"     (Vol.  II.  p.  285.) 

Compare  Tennyson : — 

"  Gently  comes  the  world  to  those 
That  are  cast  in  gentle  mould.'* 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         ccxxxv. 

Surely  *  cast '  here  completely  spoils  the  idea  ?  And  so 
everywhere,  nearly,  you  come  on  unexpected  felicities, 
as  Mr.  Gosse  thus  admirably  and  weightily,  and  with 
fine  insight  sums  up : — "  We  have  now  rapidly  con 
cluded  the  two  volumes  on  which  Herrick  claims  his 
place  among  the  best  English  lyrical  poets.  Had  he 
written  twenty  instead  of  two,  he  could  not  have  im 
pressed  his  strong  poetic  individuality  more  powerfully 
on  our  literature  than  he  has  done  in  the  Hesperides. 
It  is  a  storehouse  of  lovely  things,  full  of  tiny  beauties 
of  varied  kind  and  workmanship,  like  a  box  full  of  all 
sorts  of  jewels,  ropes  of  seed  pearl,  opals  set  in  old- 
fashioned  shifting  settings,  antique  gilt  trifles  sadly 
tarnished  by  time,  here  a  ruby,  here  an  amethyst,  and 
there  a  shiny  diamond,  priceless  and  luminous,  flashing 
light  from  all  its  facets,  and  dulling  the  faded  jewellery 
with  which  it  is  so  promiscuously  huddled.  What  is  so 
very  precious  about  the  book  is  the  originality  and  ver 
satility  of  the  versification.  There  is  nothing  too  fan 
tastic  for  the  author  to  attempt,  at  least ;  there  is  one 
poem  written  in  rhyming  triplets,  each  line  having  only 
two  syllables  [Vol.  II.  p.  127].  There  are  clear  little 
trills  of  sudden  song,  like  the  lines  to  the  "  Lark  " ; 
there  are  chance  melodies  that  seem  like  mere  wanton- 


ccxxxvi.        MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

ings  of  the  air  upon  a  wind-harp ;  there  are  such  har 
monious  endings,  as  this,  '  To  Music  ' : — 

'  Fall  on  me  like  a  silent  dew, 

Or  like  those  maiden  showers 
Which,  by  the  peep  of  day,  do  show 
A  baptism  o'er  the  flowers. 
Melt,  melt  my  pains 
With  thy  soft  strains, 
That,  having  ease  me  given, 
With  full  delight 
I  leave  this  light 
And  take  my  flight 
For  heaven.' 

With  such  poems  as  these,  and  with  the  delicious  songs 
of  so  many  of  Herrick's  predecessors  and  compeers 
before  them,  it  is  inexplicable  upon  what  possible 
grounds  the  critics  of  the  eighteenth  century  can  have 
founded  their  astonishing  dogma,  that  the  first  master 
of  English  versification  was  Edmund  Waller,  whose 
poems,  appearing  some  fifteen  years  after  the  Hesperides, 
are  chiefly  remarkable  for  their  stiff  and  pedantic  move 
ment,  and  the  brazen  clang,  as  of  stage  armour,  of  the 
dreary  heroic  couplets  in  which  they  shut.  Where 
Waller  is  not  stilted,  he  owes  his  excellence  to  the 
very  source  from  which  the  earlier  lyrists  took  theirs — a 
study  of  nature  and  a  free  but  not  licentious  use  of  pure 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.       ccxxxvii. 

English.  But  not  one  of  his  poems,  except  *  Go, 
lovely  Rose/  is  worth  the  slightest  of  those  delicate 
warbles  that  Herrick  piped  out  when  the  sun  shone  on 
him,  and  the  flowers  were  fresh  "  (p.  189).  & 

4.  His  allusive  reading.  I  prefer  '  reading'  to  'learn 
ing  ' ;  for  there  are  proofs  that  '  learning '  was  not 
Herri ck's  forte.  His  career  at  the  University  was 
probably  too  much  interrupted  by  '  escapes '  to  town 
and  mingling  with  the  gatherings  of  which  Ben  Jonson 
was  sovereign,  to  admit  of  steady  and  full  acquirements 
such  as  a  College  furnishes.  The  most  that  can  be 
said  is  that  he  was  fairly  well-read  in  the  Greek  and 
Roman  classics,  and  some  of  the  Fathers — nothing 
more.  But  his  miscellaneous  reading  must  have  been 
of  the  type  of  Robert  Burton's  or  Thomas  Fuller's.  In 
his  "To  Live  Merrily"  (Vol.  I.  p.  138)  we  have  a  vivid 
enumeration  of  the  ancient  Poets  he  loved  ;  and  I  give 
it  here  in  full  that  there  may  follow  on  it  Mr.  Gosse's 
remarks  on  his  obligation  to  the  classics  : — 

"To  live  merrily,  and  to  trust  to 
Good  Verses. 

Now  is  the  time  for  mirth, 

Nor  cheek,  or  tongue  be  dumbe  : 

For  with  the  flowrie  earth, 
The  golden  pomp  is  come. 


ccxxxviii.      MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


The  golden  Pomp  is  come ; 

For  now  each  tree  do's  weare 
(Made  of  her  Pap  and  Gum) 

Rich  beads  of  Amber  here. 

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  He  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. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        ccxxxix. 

Wild  I  am  now  with  heat; 

O  Bacchus  !  coole  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. 

Behold,  Tlbullus  lies 

Here  burnt,  whose  smal  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  Numbers  sweet, 

With  endless  life  are  crown  'd." 

(Vol.  I.  pp.  138-41.) 


ccxl.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


With  this  in  recollection,  Mr.  Gosse  (as  before) 
writes  : — "  It  is  an  interesting  speculation  to  consider 
from  what  antique  sources  Herrick,  athirst  for  the  pure 
springs  of  pagan  beauty,  drank  the  deep  draughts  of  his 
inspiration.  Ben  Jonson  it  was,  beyond  doubt,  who  first 
introduced  him  to  the  classics,  but  his  mode  of  accept 
ing  the  ideas  he  found  there,  was  wholly  his  own.  In 
the  first  place,  one  must  contradict  a  foolish  statement 
that  all  the  editors  of  Herrick  have  repeated,  sheep- 
like  from  one  another,  namely,  that  Catullus  was 
his  great  example  and  model.  In  the  last  edition  of 
the  Hesperides  I  find  the  same  old  blunder  :  *  There 
is  no  collection  of  poetry  in  our  language  which  more 
nearly  resembles  the  Carmina  of  Catullus.'  In  reality, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  lyric  poet  with  whom  he 
has  less  in  common  than  with  the  Veronese,  whose 
eagle-flights  into  the  very  noonday-depths  of  passion, 
swifter  than  Shelley's,  as  flaming  as  Sappho's,  have  no 
sort  of  fellowship  with  the  pipings  of  our  gentle  and 
luxurious  babbler  by  the  flowery  brooks.  In  one  of  his 
poems,  'To  Live  Merrily,'  where  he  addresses  the 
various  classical  poets,  and  where,  by  the  way,  he  tries 
to  work  himself  into  a  great  exaltation  about  Catullus, 
he  does  not  even  mention  the  one  that  he  really  took 
most  from  of  form  and  colour.  No  one  carefully 


ME  MORI  A  L- INTRO  D  UCTION.  ccxli . 

reading  the  Hesperides  can  fail  to  be  struck  with  the 
extraordinary  similarity  they  bear  to  the  Epigrams  of 
Martial,  and  the  parallel  will  be  found  to  run  through 
out  the  writings  of  the  two  poets,  for  good  and  for  bad, 
the  difference  being  that  Herrick  is  as  much  a  rural  as 
Martial  an  urban  poet.  But  in  the  incessant  references 
to  himself  and  his  book,  the  fondness  for  gums  and 
spices,  the  delight  in  the  picturesqueness  of  private 
life,  the  art  of  making  a  complete  and  gem-like  poem 
in  the  fewest  possible  lines,  the  curious  mixture  of 
sensitiveness  and  utter  want  of  sensibility,  the  trick  of 
writing  confidential  little  poems  to  all  sorts  of  friends, 
the  tastelessness  that  mixes  up  obscene  couplets  with 
delicate  odes  '  De  Hortis  Martialis '  or  '  To  Anthea  '; 
in  all  those  and  many  more  qualities  one  can  hardly 
tell  where  to  look  for  a  literary  parallel  more  complete. 
As  far  as  I  know,  Herrick  mentions  Martial  but  once, 
and  then  very  slightly.  He  was  fond  of  talking  about 
the  old  poets  in  his  verse,  but  never  with  any  critical 
cleverness.  The  best  thing  he  says  about  any  of  them 
is  said  of  Ovid  in  a  pretty  couplet.  In  a  dream  he 
sees  Ovid  lying  at  the  feet  of  Corinna,  who  presses 

With  ivory  wrists  his  laureate  head,  and  steeps 
His  eyes  in  dew  of  kisses  while  he  sleeps. 


ccxlii.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

How  much  further  Herrick's  learning  proceeded  it  is 
difficult  to  tell.  Doubtless  he  knew  some  Greek ;  he 
mentions  Homer  and  translates  from  Anacreon.  The 
English  poets  of  that  age,  learned  as  many  of  them 
were,  do  not  seem  to  have  gone  much  further  than 
Rome  for  their  inspiration.  Chapman  is,  of  course,  a 
great  exception.  But  none  of  them,  as  all  the  great 
French  poets  of  the  Renaissance,  went  directly  to  the 
Anthology.  Perhaps  Herrick  had  read  the  Planudian 
Anthology,  Theocritus  and  Anacreon.  The  little 
piece  called  t  Leander's  Obsequies '  seems  as 
though  it  must  be  a  translation  of  the  epigram  of 
Antipater  of  Thessalonica.  Curious  to  reflect  that 
at  the  very  time  that  the  Hesperides  was  printed, 
Salmasius,  soon  to  be  hunted  to  death  by  the  im 
placable  hatred  of  Milton,  [?]  was  carrying  about  with 
him  in  his  restless  wanderings  the  MS.  of  his  great 
discovery,  the  inestimable  Anthology  of  Constantine 
Cephalas.  One  imagines  with  what  sympathetic 
brotherliness  the  Vicar  of  Dean  Prior  would  have 
gossipped  and  glowed  over  the  new  storehouse  of 
Greek  song.  That  the  French  poets  of  the  century 
before  were  known  to  Herrick  is  to  me  extremely 
doubtful.  One  feels  how  much  there  was  in  such  a 
book  as  La  Bergerie  of  Remy  Belleau,  in  which  our 


MEMORIA  L-INTRODUCTION.          ccxliii. 

poet  would  have  felt  the  most  unfeigned  delight,  but  I 
find  no  distinct  traces  of  their  style  in  his ;  and  unless 
the  Parisian  editions  of  the  classics  influenced  him,  I 
cannot  think  that  he  brought  any  honey,  poisonous  or 
other,  from  France.  His  inspiration  was  Latin;  that 
of  Ronsard  and  Jodelle  essentially  Greek.  It  was  the 
publication  of  the  Anthology  in  1531,  and  of  Henry 
Estienne's  Anacreon  in  1554,  that  really  set  the  Pleiad 
in  movement,  and  founded  Vecole  gallo-grecque.  It  was 
the  translation  of  Ovid,  Lucan,  Seneca,  and  Virgil  that 
gave  English  Elizabethan  poetry  the  startword." 

(pp.  189-91.) 

I  fear  I  must  repeat  the  (alleged)  "  foolish  state 
ment"  of  my  editorial  predecessors  as  to  Herrick's 
indebtedness  to  Catullus.  The  foot-notes  go  to  show 
frequent  reminiscences  and  adaptations  of  the  poet  of 
Verona  ('  adopted '  is  his  own  word) ;  and  without 
traversing  the  high  praise  of  his  "  eagle  flights  "  and 
"  very  noonday-depths  of  passion,  swifter  than  Shelley's, 
as  flaming  as  Sappho's,"  it  has  been  shown  earlier  that 
there  was  infinitely  more  of  passion  in  our  Poet  than  is 
ordinarily  supposed,  and  than  is  supposed  by  Mr. 
Gosse,  so  that  it  is,  I  humbly  think,  a  mistake  to  gen 
eralize  on  the  "  pipings  of  our  gentle  and  luxurious 


ccxliv.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

babbler  by  the  flowery  brooks."  The  Carmina  of 
Catullus,  alike  in  their  lyrical  fervour  and  intensity, 
find  more  than  "  fellowship  "  in  much  of  the  Hesperides. 
Certes  for  once  that  Martial  is  suggested,  Catullus  is 
three  times.  More  than  this — it  is  in  the  offensive 
Epigrams  that  had  better  been  spared  bodily  that 
Herrick  goes  to  Martial.  Startled  by  Mr.  Gosse's 
paradox,  I  have  taken  pains  to  re-read  good  old 
Farnaby's  natty  edition  of  the  Epigrammata,  and  my 
original  impression  has  been  confirmed  that,  except 
in  instances  of  all  but  direct  translation,  and  almost 
wholly  in  the  unsavoury  Epigrams,  Martial  exercised  but 
slight  influence,  and  all  of  it,  unhappily,  sinister.  On 
the  other  hand,  there  are  in  Hesperides  notable  in 
debtedness  to  Catullus  in  what  is  most  imperishable, 
e.g.  "  To  Anthea  "  (in  first  eight  lines  :  Vol.  I.  p.  40) : 
"Kissing  Usurie"  (Vol.  I.  p.  49):  "The  Vision" 
(ibid,  p.  86) :  "  Epithalamie  to  Sir  Thomas  Southwell 
and  his  Ladie "  (ibid,  p.  90-9,  et  alibi]  :  "  Corinna 
going  a  Maying"  (ibid,  p.  116)  :  "An  Ode  to  Master 
Endymion  Porter  upon  his  Brothers  death "  (ibid,  p. 
124):  "Lips  Tongueless  "  (ibid,  pp.  141-2) :  "  A  re 
quest  to  the  Graces"  (Vol.  III.  p.  13).  Besides  these 
specific  places,  the  student  will  again  and  again  catch 
the  notes  of  the  Carmina,  often  the  more  assuredly 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxlv. 

from  the  peculiar  turn  given  to  the  thought  or  image. 
Apart  from  the  Epigrams,  which  one  must  constantly 
remember  are  the  mere  "  farcing  buckram "  of  the 
Book,  five  or  six  faint  echoes  of  Martial  seem  to  me  to 
sum  up  Herrick's  obligations  to  him.1 

'  Allusive  reading '  rather  than  assimilative  is  what  I 
discover  in  Herrick's  Poems.  Certain  of  his  words  and 
turns  of  phrase  make  you  think  of  others,  and  others 
keep  ringing  in  your  memory  as  you  read ;  but  when 
you  recall  them,  you  begin  to  suspect  coincidence 
rather  than  knowledge,  and  o'  times  are  amused  to 
find  that  Herri ck  is  the  precursor  not  follower.  It 

1  Including  those  in  the  Index  of  Names,  the  following  it  is  be 
lieved  give  references  to  every  Epigram  in  Martial  to  which  in  the 
slightest  way  Herrick  alludes ;  most  are  very  slightly  indeed  re?- 
membered:  B.  I,  The  Author  to  his  Book  (3),  To  Caesar  (4),  To 
Decianus  (8),  To  Julius  (15),  To  Aelia  (19),  To  Flaccus  (57),  Of 
Manneia  (83) :  B.  II,  To  Postumus  (10) — perhaps  the  name  of 
Wickes  ('  Posthumus ')  was  taken  from  this  and  others  kindred ; 
To  Pannicus  (36),  To  Caecilianus  (37),  To  Olus  (68),  To  Quintilian 
(90)  :  B.  HI,  On  Sabdidus  (17)  :  B.  IV,  On  Cleopatra  his  wife  (22), 
To  Domitian  (27),  To  Hippodamus  (31),  On  a  Bee  enclosed  in 
Amber  (59):  B.  V,  To  his  Readers  (2),  To  Regulus  (10) :  B.  VI, 
To  Marcianus  (70)  :  B.  VII,  To  his  Book  (84),  On  Papilus  (94)  : 
B.  VIII,  To  a  friend  (14) :  B.  XI,  To  his  Readers  (16)  i  B.  XIII— 
occasional  dishes  are  recalled.  The  fingers  of  a  single  hand  will 
sum  up  actual  indebtedness  to  Martial.  Catullus  and  Horace  and 
Anacreon  furnish  a  much  more  pervading  element. 


ccxlvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

may  interest  to  give  a  few  examples.  In  the  place  I 
have  quoted  Milton  in 

"  When  I  thy  singing  next  shall  heare 
lie  wish  I  might  turne  all  to  eare"  (Vol.  I.,  p.  38.) 

Hook's  Amanda — a  sorry  affair  as  a  whole,  but  with 
some  few  glorious  things  in  it — has  the  same  odd 
fancy  : — 

"  Sing  on  sweet  Chauntresse  soul  of  melodic ; 
Closely  attentive  to  thy  harmonic  : 

The  Heavens  check't  and  stop't  their  rumbling  spheres, 
And  all  the  world  turned  itself  into  eares."        (p.  19.) 

Nothing  could  be  more  unhappy  than  '  rumbling ' 
applied  to  the  great  silent  'spheres/  and  there  is  a 
dash  of  the  grotesque  in  the  huge  impersonation  of 
'the  world' — "turn'd  into  eares."  Still,  the  idea  is 
there,  and  as  Hook's  Poems  circulated  long  in  Manu 
script,  it  is  quite  possible  it  was  original  to  him. 
William  Cartwright  in  his  "  Young  Lord  to  his  Mis 
tress  who  had  taught  him  a  Song,"  has  it  also  : — 


"  Whose  Sounds  do  make  me  wish  I  were 
•Either  all  Voice,  or  else  all  Eare." 

(Poems  16,  p.  208.) 


ME  MORI  A  L-INTROD  UCTION.          ccxlvii. 

The  conceit  in  "  Electra's  Tears,"  that  from  them 
sprang  sweet  flowers,  is  frequent  before  and  after. 
None  has  used  it  with  more  graciousness  than  SIR 
WILLIAM  DAVENANT,  as  thus  : — 

"  My  Grave  with  Flowers  let  Virgins  strow ; 

Which,  if  thy  Teares  fall  near  them, 
May  so  transcend  in  Scent  and  Show, 
As  thou  wilt  shortly  weare  them. 

Such  Flowers  how  much  will  Florists  prize, 

Which  on  a  Lover  growing, 
Are  water'd  with  his  Mistress  eyes, 

With  pity  ever  flowing. 
A  Grave  so  deckt,  will,  though  thou  art 

Yet  fearful  to  come  nie  me. 
Provoke  thee  straite  to  break  thy  heart, 

And  lie  down  boldly  by  me. 

Then  ev'ry  where  all  Bells  shall  ring, 

All  Light  to  Darkness  turning, 
Whilst  ev'ry  Quire  shall  sadly  sing, 

And  Natures  self  weare  mourning. 
Yet  we  hereafter  may  be  found, 

By  destinies  right  placing, 
Making,  like  Flowers,  Love  under  Ground, 

Whose  Rootes  are  still  embracing." 

(Works  folio  p.  318.) 


ccxlviii.         MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

In  the  lines  "  To  Oenone  "  we  have  this  appeal  :— 

"  For  shame  or  pitty  now  encline, 

To  play  a  loving  part ; 
Either  to  send  me  kindly  thine, 
Or  give  me  back  my  heart." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  in.) 

Compare  this  with  SIR  JOHN   SUCKLING   (Remains  : 
1659,  p.  6)  :— 

"  I  prethee  send  me  back  my  heart, 

Since  I  can  not  have  thine  : 
For  if  from  yours  you  will  not  part, 
Why  then  should'st  thou  have  mine  ?" 

His  "Dreame  "  (Vol.  II.,  p.  84)  is  of  a  slighter  build 
than  Cartwright's,  as  thus: — 

"  I  dream'd  I  saw  my  self  lye  dead, 

And  that  my  bed  my  coffin  grew  : 
Silence  and  Sleep  this  strange  sight  bred, 

But  wak'd  I  found  I  liv'd  anew. 
Looking  next  morn  on  your  bright  face, 

Mine  Eyes  bequeath'd  mine  Heart  fresh  pain, 
A  Dart  rush'd  in  with  every  Grace, 

And  so  I  killM  my  self  again  : 
O  Eyes,  what  shall  distressed  Lovers  do 
If  open  you  can  kill,  if  shut  you  view." 

(Poems,  as  before,  p.  213.) 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccxlix. 


Again,  "  Upon  Electra  " : — 

"  When  out  of  bed  my  love  doth  spring, 

'  Tis  but  as  day  a- kindling  : 
But  when  she's  up  and  fully  drest, 
'7w  then  broad  Day  throughout  the  East.  " 

(Vol.  II.,  p.  86.) 

I  am  willing  to  believe  that  Herrick  may  have  thought 
here  of  Chaucer  : — 

"  Up  roos  the  sonne,  and  up  rose  Emelye." 

(Knight's  Tale  :  Vol.  I.,  p.  163,  Bell.) 

Or  Davenant  again  : — 

"  Awake,  awake,  break  through  your  Vailes  of  Lawne  ! 
Then  draw  your  Curtains  and  begin  the  Dawne." 

(As  before,  p.  320.) 

Daintier  than  all  is  Spenser's  Una,  who  "  made  a  sun 
shine  in  a  shady  place"  (F.Q.  b.L  c.  3).  Herrick's,  as 
Sidney's  "  bean  blossoms  "  and  their  rich  fragrance  is 
one  of  several  like  favourites  in  the  Hesperides.  So  too 
Suckling  addressing  Herrick's  Countess  of  Carlisle,  as 
did  Cartwright  and  Waller  and  others,  sings  : — 

"  Didst  thou  not  find  the  place  inspir'd, 
And  flow'rs  as  if  they  had  desir'd 


ccl.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

No  other  Sun,  start  from  their  beds, 
And  for  a  sight  steal  out  their  heads  ? 
Heardst  thou  not  musick  when  she  talk't  ? 
And  didst  not  find  that  as  she  walkt 
She  threw  rare  perfumes  all  about 
Such  as  bean-blossoms  newly  out. 

Or  chafed  spices  give  ? 

"  Upon  my  Lady  Carliles  walking  in  Hamp 
ton  Court  Garden."  (1646,  p.  26.) 

The  "Apron  of  Flowers"  (Vol.  II.,  p.  249)  has  a  fine 
parallel  in  a  Poet  who  is  too  little  known,  Thomas 
Stanley,  as  thus  : — 

"  Favonius  the  milder  breath  o'  th'  Spring, 
When  proudly  bearing  on  his  softer  wing 
Rich  odours,  which  from  the  Panchean  groves 
He  steals,  as  by  the  Phenix  pyre  he  moves, 
Profusely  doth  his  sweeter  theft  dispence 
To  the  next  Roses  blushing  innocence, 
But  from  the  grateful  Flower,  a  richer  scent 
He  back  receives  then  he  unto  it  lent. 
Then  laden  with  his  odours  richest  store, 
He  to  thy  Breath  hasts  !  to  which  these  are  poor ; 
Which  whilst  the  amorous  wind  to  steal  essaies, 
He,  like  a  wanton  Lover  'bout  thee  playes,  &c." 

(Poems  1651,  p.  6.) 

It  were  easy  to  add  almost  ad  infinitum  to  such 
parallels.     They  practically  leave  Herrick's  originality 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccli. 

untouched.     Of  his  anticipations  of  later  Poets  the  most 
noteworthy  are  these  two  : — 

"A  good  death. 

For  truth  I  may  this  sentence  tell 
No  man  dies  ill,  that  liveth  well." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  66.) 

and 

"  Sins  loath'd,  and  yet  lov'd. 

Shame  checks  our  first  attempts  ;  but  then  'tis  prov'd, 
Sins  first  dislik'd,  are  after  that  belov'd." 

(Vol.  III.  p.  156.) 

The  first  has  been  re-written  by  Pope,  thus  : — 

"  For  modes  of  faith  let  graceless  zealots  fight ; 
He  can't  be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right." 

(Essay  on  Man,  ep.  iii.  1.  305. )* 

The  second  also  by  him,  thus  : — 

"  Vice  is  a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 
As  to  be  hated,  needs  but  to  be  seen  ; 
Yet,  seen  too  oft,  familiar  with  her  face, 
We  first  endure,  then  pity,  then  embrace." 

(Essay  on  Man,  ep.  ii.  1.  217.) 

1  Better  still  Cowley  on  Crashaw  : — 

"  His  faith,  perhaps,  in  some  nice  tenets  might 
Be  wrong;  his  life,  I'm  sure  was  in  the  right." 


cclii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

Finally  here,  if  the  Reader  will  turn  to  "The  Country 
Life"  (Vol.  II.  pp.  212-15)  and  then  to  "L'Allegro," 
I  shall  be  indeed  mistaken  if  it  be  not  conceded  that 
Milton  remembered  it  to  advantage  therein. 

5.  His  Sacred  Verse.  I  am  aware  that  it  is  usual 
to  regard  Noble  Numbers  as  an  infinite  falling  off 
from  Hesperides\  nor  would  I  dispute  the  verdict  on 
his  Sacred  Verse,  taken  as  a  whole.  None  the  less  is 
it  true  that  there  are  things  in  Noble  Numbers  that 
only  a  man  of  unique  genius  could  have  written.  Dr. 
George  Macdonald,  in  "  Antiphon,"  seems  to  me  to 
hold  the  scales  evenly,  and  to  bring  out  specialities 
worth  bringing  out.  It  is  a  joy  to  let  such  a  Critic  speak 
for  one,  as  thus  (not  omitting  repetitions  of  prior  given 
facts) : — "  We  now  come  to  a  new  sort,  both  of  man 
and  poet — still  a  clergyman.  It  is  an  especial  pleasure 
to  write  the  name  of  Robert  Herrick  among  the  poets 
of  religion,  for  the  very  act  records  that  the  jolly  care 
less  Anacreon  of  the  church,  with  his  head  and  heart 
crowded  with  pleasures,  threw  down  at  length  his 
wine-cup,  tore  the  roses  from  his  head,  and  knelt  in  the 
dust. 

"Nothing  bears  Herrick's  name  so  unrefined  as  the 
things  Dr.  Donne  wrote  in  his  youth  •  but  the  impres 
sion  made  by  his  earlier  poems  is  of  a  man  of  far 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  ccliii. 

shallower  nature,  and  greatly  more  absorbed  in  the 
delights  of  the  passing  hour.  In  the  year  1648,  when 
he  was  fifty-seven  years  of  age,  being  prominent  as  a 
Royalist,  he  was  ejected  from  his  living  by  the 
dominant  Puritans ;  and  in  that  same  year  he  pub 
lished  his  poems,  of  which  the  latter  part  and  later 
written  is  his  Noble  Numbers,  or  religious  poems. 
We  may  wonder  at  his  publishing  the  Hesperides  along 
with  them,  but  we  must  not  forget  that,  while  the 
manners  of  a  time  are  never  to  be  taken  as  a  justifica 
tion  of  what  is  wrong,  the  judgment  of  man  concerning 
what  is  wrong  will  be  greatly  influenced  by  those 
manners — not  necessarily  on  the  side  of  laxity.  It  is 
but  fair  to  receive  his  own  testimony  concerning 
himself,  offered  in  these  two  lines  printed  at  the  close 
of  his  Hesperides  : 

'  To  his  Book's  end  this  last  line  he'd  have  plac't, 
Jocond  his  Muse  ivas,  but  his  Life  "was  chast.'  l 

1  Herrick  no  doubt  was  thinking  of  Ovid  (Trist.  II.   353-4). 

Crede  mihi,  mores  distant  a  carmina  nostri ; 

Vita  veracunda  est,  Musa  jocosa,  mihi ;" 

and  also  perhaps  of  Martial  (I.  v.)  "  Lasciva  est  nobis  pagina,  vita 
proba  est."  Cartwright  was  severe  on  the  Poet's  apology — for 
certainly  it  was  intended — when  he  wrote  of  Jonson : — "  No  need 
to  make  good  count'nance  111,  and  use  the  plea  of  strict  life  for  a 
looser  muse  "  (Poems,  as  before,  p.  314). 


ccliv.  MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION. 

"We  find  the  same  artist  in  the  Noble  Numbers  as  in 
the  Hesperides,  but  hardly  the  same  man.  However 
far  he  may  have  been  from  the  model  of  a  clergyman 
in  the  earlier  period  of  his  history,  partly,  no  doubt, 
from  the  society  to  which  his  power  of  song  made  him 
acceptable,  I  cannot  believe  that  these  later  poems  are 
the  results  of  mood,  still  less  the  result  of  mere  pro 
fessional  bias,  or  even  sense  of  professional  duty. 

"  In  a  good  many  of  his  poems  he  touches  the  heart  of 
truth  ;  in  others,  even  those  of  epigrammatic  form, 
he  must  be  allowed  to  fail  in  point  as  well  as  in 
meaning.  As  to  his  art-forms,  he  is  guilty  of  great 
offences,  the  result  of  the  same  passion  for  lawless 
figures  and  similitudes  which  Dr.  Donne  so  freely 
indulged.  But  his  verses  are  brightened  by  a  certain 
almost  childishly  quaint  and  innocent  humour ;  while 
the  tenderness  of  some  of  them  rises  on  the  reader  like 
the  aurora  of  the  coming  sun  of  George  Herbert.  I 
do  not  forget  that  even  if  some  of  his  poems  were — 
printed  in  1639  [1635],  years  before  that  George 
Herbert  had  done  his  work  and  gone  home  :  my  figure 
stands  in  relation  to  the  order  I  have  adopted.  Some 
of  his  verse  is  homelier  than  even  George  Herbert's  — 
homeliest.  One  of  its  most  remarkable  traits  is  a 
quaint  thanksgiving  for  the  commonest  things  by  name 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclv. 

—not  the  less  real  that  it  is  sometimes  even  queer. 
For  instance: 

'  To  God. 

God  gives  not  onely  corne,  for  need, 
But  likewise  sup'rabundant  seed ; 
Bread  for  our  service,  bread  for  shew  ; 
Meat  for  our  meales,  and  fragments  too  : 
He  gives  not  poorly,  taking  some 
Between  the  finger,  and  the  thumb ; 
But,  for  our  glut,  and  for  our  store, 
Fine  flowre  prest  down,  and  running  o're.' 

"  Here  is  another,  delightful  in  its  oddity.  We  can 
fancy  the  merry  yet  gracious  poet  chuckling  over  the 
vision  of  the  child  and  the  fancy  of  his  words. 

'  A  Grace  for  a  Child. 

Here  a  little  child  I  stand, 

Heaving  up  my  either  hand  ; 

Cold  as  Paddocks  though  they  be, 

Here  I  lift  them  up  to  Thee, 

For  a  Benizon  to  fall 

On  our  meat,  and  on  us  all.     Amen? 

(Vol.  III.  pp.  158-9.) 

"  I  shall  now  give  two  or  three  of  his  longer  poems, 
which  are  not  long,  and  then  a  few  of  his  short  ones. 


cclvi.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

The  best  known  is  the  following,  but  it  is  not  so  well 
known  that  I  must  therefore  omit  it. 

*  His  Letanie,  to  the  Holy  Spirit. 

i.  In  the  houre  of  my  distresse, 

When  temptations  me  oppresse,'  &c. 

<  The  White  Island:  or  place  of  the  Blest. 

In  this  world  (the  Isle  of  Dreames} 
While  we  sit  by  sorrowes  streames/  &c. 

'  To  Death. 

Thou  bid'st  me  come  away, 
And  Pie  no  longer  stay,'  &"c. 

*  Eternitie. 

1.  O  Yeares  !  and  Age  !  Farewell : 

Behold  I  go, 
Where  I  do  know 
Infinitieto  dwell. 

2.  And  these  mine  eyes  shall  see 

All  times,  how  they 
Are  lost  i'  th'  Sea 
Of  vast  Eternitie. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


cclvi'. 


Where  never  Moone  shall  sway 
The  Starres  ;  but  she 
And  Night,  shall  be 

Drown'd  in  one  endlesse  Day. 

'  The  goodnesse  of  his  God. 

When  Winds  and  Seas  do  rage 
And  threaten  to  undo  me, 

Thou  dost  their  wrath  asswage, 
If  I  but  call  unto  Thee. 

A  mighty  storm  last  night 
Did  seek  my  soule  to  swallow. 

But  by  the  peep  of  light 
A  gentle  calm  did  follow. 

What  need  I  then  despaire, 

Though  ills  stand  round  about  me  ; 
Since  mischiefs  neither  dare 

To  bark,  or  bite  without  Thee  ? ' 


<  To  God. 

Lord,  I  am  like  to  Misletoe 
Which  has  no  root,  and  cannot  grow, 
Or  prosper,  but  by  that  same  tree 
It  clings  about ;  so  I  by  Thee. 
What  need  I  then  to  feare  at  all, 
So  long  as  I  about  Thee  craule  ? 
But  if  that  Tree  sho'd  fall,  and  die, 
Tumble  shall  heav'n,  and  down  will  I.' 
r 


cclviii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

"  Here  are  now  a  few  chosen  from  many  that — to  bor 
row  a  term  from  Crashaw — might  be  called  Divine 
Epigrams. 

'  God,  when  He's  angry/  &c.  (Vol.  III.  p.  121.) 

'  God  can't  be  wrathful,'  &c.  (  „  p.  215.) 

« 'Tis  hard  to  find  God,'  &c.  (  „  p.  122.) 

*  God's  rod  doth  watch,'  &c.  (  „  p.  125.) 

*  A  man's  transgression,'  &c.  (  „  p.  151.) 
'  God,  when  He  takes,'  &c.  (  „  p.  156.) 
'  Humble  we  must  be,'  &c.  (  „  p.  156.) 
4  God  Who's  in  Heaven,'  &c.  (  „  p.  188.) 
'  The  same  who  crowns,'  &c.  (  „  p.  189.) 
'  God  is  so  potent,'  &c.  (  „  p.  191.) 
'  Paradise  is,'  &c.  (  „  p.  191.) 
'  Heaven  is  not  given,'  &c.  (  „  p.  203.) 

One  more  for  the  sake  of  Martha,  smiled  at  by  so 
many  because  they  are  incapable  either  of  her  blame 
or  her  sister's  praise. 

*  The  repetition  of  the  name,  made  known 
No  other  than  Christ's  full  affection.' 

(Vol.  III.  p.  191.) 

And  so  farewell  to  the  very  lovable  Robert  Herrick." 
(pp.  163-171).  Turning  back  on  these  "good  words," 
it  may  be  that  some,  reading  his  "  Letanie"  for  the  first 
time,  or  reading  it  afresh,  may  be  disposed  to  wonder 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclix. 

if  not  to  condemn  its  levities,  and  if  disposed  to  be 
harsh,  might  even  say  that  the  ass's  ear  persists  in 
peeping  out  of  Herrick's  cleanest  night-cap.  But  in 
bits  such  as  these  in  his  "  Letanie  " — 

"  When  the  artlesse  doctor  sees     =ivithout  skill 
No  one  hope,  but  of  his  fees, 
And  his  skill  runs  on  the  lees ; 

Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  ! 


When  the  tapers  now  burne  blew, 
And  the  comforters  are  fnv, 
And  that  number  more  then  true  ; 
Sweet  Spirit,  comfort  me  !" 

there  really  was  no  irreverence,  nothing  save  irrepress 
ible  humour  and  sense  of  the  ridiculous  side  of  human 
nature,  and  scorn  of  all  unrealities.1  It  is  of  kin  with 
Sir  Thomas  More's  jest  within  the  gleam  of  the  heads- 

1  '  Art-lesse.'  When  I  put  '  without  skill '  in  the  margin  in  its 
place,  I  thought  of  the  meaning  as  =  skillessness  or  ignorance,  and 
certainly  it  might  well  apply  to  the  then  country  practitioner  in 
Devonshire.  My  good  friend  Dr.  Nicholson  suggests  that  his 
skillessness  quoad  the  patient's  state  (supposed)  is  intended,  and  so 
—  when  the  doctor's  art  has  become  skilless  or  unable  to  relieve  or 
save.  This  seems  to  be  suggested  by  the  '  skill '  of  third  line — 
which  otherwise  is  contradictory — and  yields  a  finer  meaning. 
There  remains  the  jest  on  the  '  fees,'  with  its  further  hint  at  isolation. 


cclx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

man's  axe,  and  such  sallies  as  have  broken  from  your 
witty  men  from  stout  Gilbert  (Raleigh's  brother-in-law) 
to  Robert  Burns  and  Sydney  Smith.  I'd  rather  have 
outspoken  sincerity  than  sanctimonious  demureness. 
The  incidental  mention  of  George  Herbert  reminds  us 
that  though  his  contemporary  at  Cambridge,  Noble 
Numbers  shews  only  one  distant  echo  of  "  The 
Temple"  in  "His  Saviour's  Words,  going  to  the  Crosse" 
(Vol.  III.  p.  219)  and  "Good  Friday"  (Vol.  III.  216). 
It  has  a  touch  of  "  2.  The  Sacrifice,"  just  as  in 
"  Corinna  going  a-Maying "  there  may  be  heard  the 
sweet  urgency  of  Richard  Crashaw  in  his  poem  of  "The 
Morning"  (Works  I.  pp.  237-9  in  F.  W.  L.).  It  is 
somewhat  and  inevitably  repetitive,  but  Mr.  Gosse's 
criticism  of  the  sacred  Verse  must  also  be  given  if,  in 
one  instance  at  least,  I  must  again  dissent  emphatic 
ally.  Thus  he  writes  : — 

"  Appended  to  the  Hesperides,  but  bearing  date  one 
year  earlier,  is  a  little  book  of  poems,  similar  to  these 
in  outward  form,  but  dealing  with  sacred  subjects. 
Here  our  pagan  priest  is  seen,  despoiled  of  his  vine- 
wreath  and  his  thyrsus,  doing  penance  in  a  white 
sheet,  and  with  a  candle  in  his  hand.  That  rubicund 
visage,  with  its  sly  eye  and  prodigious  jowl,  looks 
ludicrously  out  of  place  in  the  penitential  surplice; 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclxi. 


but  he  is  evidently  sincere,  though  not  very  deep,  in 

his  repentance,  and  sings  hymns  of  faultless  orthodoxy, 

with  a  loud  and  lusty  voice,  to  the  old  pagan  airs.    Yet 

they  are  not  inspiriting  reading,  save  where  they  are 

least  Christian  ;  there  is  none  of  the  religious  passion 

of  Crashaw,  burning  the  weak  heart  away  in  a  flame 

of  adoration,  none  of  the  sweet  and  sober  devotion  of 

Herbert,  nothing,  indeed,  from  an  ecclesiastical  point 

of  view,  so  good  as  the  best  of  Vaughan  the  Silurist  ; 

where  the  Noble  Numbers  are  most  readable  is  where 

they  are  most  secular.     One  sees  the  same  spirit  here 

as  throughout  the  worldly  poems  ;  in  a  charming  little 

Ode  to  Jesus  he  wishes  the  Saviour  to  be  crowned  with 

roses   and   daffodils,  and  laid  in  a  neat  white  osier 

cradle  ;  in  The  Present,  he  will  take  a  rose  to  Christ, 

and  sticking  it  in  His  stomacher,  beg  for  one  '  melli 

fluous  kiss.'     The  epigrams  of  the  earlier  volume  are 

replaced  in  the  Noble  Numbers  by  a  series  of  couplets, 

attempting  to  define  the  nature  of  God,  of  which  none 

equals  in  neatness  this,  which  is  the  last  :  — 

'  Of  all  the  good  things  whatsoe'er  we  do 
God  is  the  'Ap      and  the  Tc'Aos  too.' 


As   might   be   expected,   his   religion  is  as  grossly 
anthropomorphic  as  it  is  possible  to  be.     He  almost 


cclxii.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

surpasses  those  mediaeval  priests  of  Picardy  who 
brought  such  waxen  images  to  the  Madonna's  shrine 
as  no  altar  had  seen  since  the  cult  of  the  Lampsacene, 
in  certain  verses  on  the  Circumcision,  verses  that  are 
more  revolting  in  their  grossness  than  any  of  those 
erotic  poems — 

'  unbaptised  rhymes 
Writ  in  my  wild  unhallowed  times  '- 

for  which  he  so  ostentatiously  demands  absolution.  It 
is  pleasant  to  turn  from  these  to  the  three  or  four 
pieces  that  are  in  every  way  worthy  of  his  genius.  Of 
these  the  tenderest  is  the  Thanksgiving,  where  he  is 
delightfully  confidential  about  his  food,  thus  : — 

'  Lord,  I  confess,  too,  when  I  dine 

The  pulse  is  Thine, 
And  all  those  other  bits,  that  be 

Placed  there  by  Thee  ; 
The  worts,  the  purslain,  and  the  mess 

Of  water-cress. 

'Tis  thou  that  crown'st  my  glittering  hearth 

With  guiltless  mirth, 
And  giv'st  me  wassail-bowls  to  drink, 

Spiced  to  the  brink.' 

And  about  his  house  : — 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclxiii. 

'  Like  as  my  parlour,  so  my  hall 

And  kitchen's  small, 
A  little  buttery,  and  therein 
A  little  bin.' 

"  The  wild  and  spirited  Letanie  is  too  well  known  to 
be  quoted  here,  but  there  are  two  very  fine  odes  in  the 
Noble  Numbers  that  are  hardly  so  familiar.  One  is  the 
'  Dirge  of  Jepthah's  Daughter,'  written  in  a  wonder 
fully  musical  and  pathetic  measure,  and  full  of  fine 
passages,  of  which  this  is  a  fair  sample  : — 

'  May  no  wolf  howl,  or  screech-owl  stir 
A  wing  about  thy  sepulchre ! 
No  boisterous  winds  or  storms  come  hither 

To  starve  or  wither 

Thy  soft  sweet  earth,  but,  like  a  spring, 
Love  keep  it  ever  flourishing.' 

"  But  beyond  question  the  cleverest  and  at  the  same 
time  the  most  odd  poem  in  the  Noble  Numbers  is 
4  The  Widow's  Tears ;  or,  Dirge  of  Dorcas,'  a  lyrical 
chorus  supposed  to  be  wailed  out  by  the  widows  over 
the  death-bed  of  Tabitha.  The  bereaved  ladies  dis 
grace  themselves,  unfortunately,  by  the  greediness  of 
their  regrets,  dwelling  on  the  loss  to  them  of  the  bread 
— 'ay!  and  the  flesh,  for  and  the  fish' — that  Dorcas 


cclxiv.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

was  wont  to  give  them  ;  but  the  poem  has  stanzas  of 
marvellous  grace  and  delicacy,  and  the  metre  in  which 
it  is  written  is  peculiarly  sweet.  But  truly  Herrick's 
forte  did  not  lie  in  hymn-writing,  nor  was  he  able  to 
refrain  from  egregious  errors  of  taste,  whenever  he 
attempted  to  reduce  his  laughing  features  to  a  proper 
clerical  gravity.  Of  all  his  solecisms,  however,  none  is 
so  monstrous  as  one  almost  incredible  poem  '  To  God/ 
in  which  he  gravely  encourages  the  Divine  Being  to  read 
his  secular  poems,  assuring  Him  that 

'  Thou,  my  God,  may'st  on  this  impure  look, 
Yet  take  no  tincture  from  my  sinful  book.' 

For  unconscious  impiety  this  rivals  the  famous  passage 
in  which  Robert  Montgomery  exhorted  God  to  '  pause 
and  think.'"  (pp.  187-8).  The  supposed  'solecism  '  is 
surely  a  misapprehension.  It  is  the  utterance  of  peni 
tent  humility  which  discerns  imperfection  and  stain 
on  its  best,  and  rejoices  to  think  of  Him  who  is  the 
Light  condescending  to  look  on  his  Poems  forgivingly; 
and  the  'take  no  tincture'  is  not  a  bathetic  but  a  pathetic 
version  of  Isaiah's  cry  :  "  Wo  is  me  !  for  I  am  un 
done  ;  because  I  am  a  man  of  unclean  lips,  and  I  dwell 
in  the  midst  of  a  people  of  unclean  lips :  for  mine 
eyes  have  seen  the  King,  the  Lord  of  Hosts  "  (VI.  5). 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


cclxv. 


Accordingly  I  have  enforced  it  (in  loco)  with  a  line 
from  Cowper.   <^> 

V.  His  assurance  of  fame.  This  is  too  large  an  ele 
ment  in  the  Poetry  of  Herrick  to  be  left  un-noted.  Any 
one  who  studies  the  early  literature  of  England  must 
have  been  struck  with  the  grotesquely  impossible  expec- 
itions  of  immortality  cherished  and  published  by  mere  * 
rersifiers.  You  have  the  most  serene  self-laudation 
and  accusing  committal  of  their  Poems  to  the  next  cen 
tury  as  distinguished  from  an  ignorant  and  unsympa 
thetic  present  time.  The  contrast  between  the  Hope 
and  its  failure  has  no  doubt  its  ludicrous  side,  but  it 
has  also  something  of  pathos.  But  when  you  find 
not  merely  aspiration  but  achievement,  not  only 
prediction  but  the  very  '  stuff'  of  the  imperishable, 
you  do  well  to  pause  and  meditate ;  for  no  man  who 
could  write  the  "  Mad  Maid's  Song,"  or  "  The  Prim 
roses  fill'd  with  dew,"  or  other  of  Herrick's  pieces 
already  marked  and  examined,  is  to  be  regarded  as  an 
Egotist  in  joyously  and  in  perfect  words  singing  his 
jurance  of  fame,  especially  when,  as  in  his  case,  the 
imortality  counted  on  is  unexaggerate  and  modest, 
and  symbolized  by  the  dew  from  the  sky,  not  the  great 
dome  of  the  sky  itself,  or  as  least  and  lowliest  wild- 
>wers  live  securely  from  age  to  age,  carrying  in 


cclxvi.  MEMORIA  L-INTROD  UCTION. 

their  bosom  the  tiny  bit  of  colour,  or  the  censer  of  fra 
grance  given  them  by  Him  who  is  The  Gardener.  The 
pretender's  assurance  of  '  fame '  is  a  tribute  as  it  is  a 
foil  to  the  true  man's.  It  is  to  be  questioned  if  there 
can  be  actuality  of  possession  of  capacity  above  the  ordi 
nary  and  yet  unconsciousness  of  it  •  and  if  consciously 
held,  it  is  simple  trueness  to  the  fact  to  utter  it  out. 
Herrick's  possession  will  not  be  gainsayed ;  nor  his 
positive  guerdons ;  nor  the  certainty  of  an  undying 
memory  within  his  own  self-chosen  realm  of  bright  and 
dainty,  rural-breathed  and  divinely  simple  Poetry,  with 
o'  times  celestial  tones  as  of  the  Lark  "  soaring  and 
singing,  singing  and  soaring,"  right  up  to  "  Heaven's 
gate."  Quotations  already  made  might  suffice  to  con 
firm  his  assurance  of  fame.  But  the  "  thirst  for  fame," 
as  Mr.  Gosse  shews,  "is  unsatiable,  and  his  hope  of 
gaining  it  intense";  his  poetry  is  "his  life  and  his 
pyramides,"  a  living  pillar,  never  "  to  be  thrown  down 
by  envious  Time,"  and  it  shall  be  the  "  honour  of  great 
musicians  to  set  his  pieces  to  music  when  he  is  dead  " 
(as  before,  p.  180).  Hence  it  demands  more  specific 
exemplification.  His  anticipation  as  to  'good  mu 
sicians  '  deeming  it  an  '  honour '  to  '  set '  his  poems  to 
music,  was  abundantly  fulfilled.  Laniere  and  Wilson, 
the  Lawes  and  the  most  famous  of  the  next  generation 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.          cclxvii. 

did  so ;  and  'tis  pity  that  to-day  the  Hesperides  is  not 
more  searched  for  worthier  words  than  are  furnished 
for  contemporary  music.  *  At  Court '  both  his  sacred 
and  secular  pieces  were  "  set  to  music,"  and  sung  at 
Whitehall  and  elsewhere.  But  this  was  a  mere  acci 
dent  of  that  '  fame  '  concerning  which  he  cherished  an 
assurance.  He  '  sang '  perfectly,  certain  that  his  notes 
were  true.  He  *  described/  and  he  was  equally  certain 
that  he  gave  back  in  his  poems  what  he  saw.  He 
*  painted'  and  there  could  be  no  question  of  the 
genuineness  of  his  colours  (as  his  epithets).  He  gave 
'  praise '  to  another  and  another  who  sought  a  place  in  , 
his  '  Book  of  the  Just,'  and  he  had  the  seer's  burdened 
eye  to  discern  that  it  would  endure,  whatever  might 
become  of  the  personality  celebrated.  And  so  through 
out. 

The  most  absolute  expression  of  his  assurance  of    , 
fame  as  a  Poet  is  " His  Poetrie  his  Pillar"  (Vol.  I.,  p. 
146) ;  but  others  strike  the  same  key,  e.g. 

"On  himself e. 

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.'* 

(Vol.  II.  p.  182.) 


cclxviii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


"To  his  Booke. 

Thou  art  a  plant  sprung  up  to  wither  never, 
But  like  a  Laurell,  to  grow  green  for  ever." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  171.) 

Nor    must  his   before-mentioned  hope    through    mu 
sicians  be  omitted: — 

"Upon  himself. 

Thou  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  Herricks 
Fame,  and  his  Name,  both  set,  and  sing  his  Lyricks." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  66.) 

Still  more  characteristic  is  his 

"  Poetry  perpetuates  the  Poet. 

Here  I  my  selfe  might  likewise  die, 
And  utterly  forgotten  lye, 
But  that  eternall  Poetrie 
Repullulation  gives  me  here 
Unto  the  thirtieth  thousand  yeere, 
When  all  now  dead  shall  re-appeare." 

(Vol.  II.  p.  273.) 

Finer  and  deeper  still  is  his  "  To  live  merrily,  and  to 
trust  to  good  verses  "  : — 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclxix. 

"  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  Numbers  sweet, 

With  endless  life  are  crown'd." 

(Vol.  I.  p.  140.) 

These  must  suffice.  The  assurance  is  positive,  but,  I 
repeat,  is  modest.  It  is  as  the  Poet  of  Love's  altar-fire 
and  as  *  sweet '  he  grounds  his  Hope.  There  are 
behind  this — like  the  horizon  stretching  away  beyond 
the  barest  patch  of  moorland — gnome-words  declara 
tive  of  a  '  vast  dominion '  and  of  *  eternall '  renown  ; 
yet  is  his  self-estimate  humble  and  nicely  true  to  his 
self-knowledge.  I  think  our  dwelling  upon  it  ought  to 
guide  to  more  proportionate  recognition  of  his  genius, 
that  is,  to  the  full  extent  he  asserts. 

VI.  His  Portrait.  It  will  be  noticed  that  Mr. 
Gosse  speaks  of  the  "  prodigious  jowl "  of  Herrick. 
This  suffices  to  convince  me  that  he  has  been  taking 
jither  the  preposterous  enlargement  by  Schiavonetti 
[in  Nott's  Selections,  1810),  or  the  equally  untrue 
lesser  enlargement  of  Worthington  (Pickering,  1846), 


cclxx.  MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

or  the  still  more  monstrous  lithograph  in  Walford's 
edition  (1869) — coarse  and  vulgar — as  the  real  like 
ness  of  our  Poet.  None  of  these  has  any  truth  in  it, 
contrariwise,  are  lying  in  feature  and  expression  and 
everything.  Lord  Dundrennan's  woodcut  (1823)  is 
an  outrage.  That  in  the  Library  of  Old  Authors 
(nominally  Mr.  Hazlitt's)  which  reproduces  the  whole 
of  the  original  engraving  of  Hesperides  (1648)  is  a 
great  advance  on  all  the  others,  or,  rather,  while  it 
shows  conscientious  work,  the  others  are  not  for  a  mo 
ment  to  be  regarded.  I  was  extremely  anxious  to  give 
one  truer  still ;  and,  unless  I  very  much  mistake,  ours 
will  be  accepted  as  closer  to  the  original  than  anything 
hitherto.  The  engraver  (Mr.  W.  J.  Alais)  has  made  it 
a  task  of  love  ;  and  the  admirer  of  Herrick  has  now  a 
genuine  replica  (enlarged)  of  that  Portrait  which  he 
himself  gave  to  the  world,  and  which  in  its  most 
commanding  aquiline  nose,  and  twinkling  eye  under  its 
arched  and  shaggy  pent-house,  and  slight  moustache, 
and  short  upper  lip,  and  massive  under-jaw,  and 
'  juicy '  neck,  with  much  of  the  voluptuous  force  of  the 
best  type  among  the  Roman  emperors,  and  affluent 
curls,  interprets  to  us  his  Book,  and  unmistakably  gives 
us  assurance  of  a  Man,  every  inch  of  him.  It  speaks 
much  for  his  independence  that  at  a  time  when  pre- 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.  cclxxi. 


fatory  verse-eulogies  were  the  rule,  and  their  absence 
almost  the  exception,  his  Book  came  out  with  his  own 
self  in  it  alone,  save  in  the  engraved  Latin  lines  under 
neath  his  bust-portrait.  The  I.  H.  C.  of  these  Lines  I 
take  to  have  been  young  John  Hall,  of  Cambridge — to 
whom  in  turn  Herrick  addressed  a  panegyric  (Vol.  III., 
pp.  27-8).  Curiously  enough,  even  Lord  Dundrennan 
and  other  after-critics  have  left  uncorrected  such  plain 
errors  as  '  minor  es '  for  '  minores,'  and  'major  es  '  for 
1  majores,'  which,  as  Marshall  was  the  engraver,  recalls 
Milton's  Greek,  that  he  caused  his  unfortunate  engraver 
innocently  to  place  under  his  portrait.  It  may  fitly 
close  these  specialities  to  give  the  Verses  and  our  verse- 
translation  : — 

"  Tempera  cinxisset  Foliorum  densior  umbra  : 

Debetur  Genio  Laurea  Sylva  tuo. 
Tempora  et  Ilia  Tibi  mollis  redimisset  Oliva ; 

Scilicet  excludis  Versibus  Arma  tuis. 
Admisces  Antiqua  Novis,  Jocunda  Sevens  : 

Hinc  Juvenis  discat,  Foemina,  Virgo,  Senex 
Vt  solo  minores  Phoebo,  sic  majores  Unus 
Omnibus  Ingenio,  Mente  Lepore,  Stylo. 
Scripsit  I.  H.  C." 

In  English  take  this  : — 

A  denser  shade  of  leaves  thy  brows  should  bind  ; 
A  laurel  grove  is  due  to  such  a  mind. 


cclxxii.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


The  peaceful  olive  should  those  brows  entwine, 
For  arms  are  banished  from  such  verse  as  thine. 
Old  things  with  new  thou  blendest,  grave  with  gay  : 
Hence  young  and  old,  mother  and  maid  may  say, 
Phcebus  except,  all  else  thou  dost  outvie 
In  style,  and  beauty,  and  capacity. 

Let  Charles  Short  ("Selections"  1839)  and  the 
Retrospective  Review,  now  close  these  ''critical'  observa 
tions.  The  former  thus  speaks  : — "  Forgetting  his 
blemishes,  and  only  estimating  the  character  and  ef 
fusions  of  his  felicitous  genius,  Herrick  may  safely  be 
pronounced  one  of  the  greatest  of  the  English  lyric 
poets ;  alternately  gay  and  serious,  lively  and  tender, 
descriptive  and  didactic,  his  pages  also  record  many 
curious  national  customs  and  traditions ;  and  if  this 
had  been  his  only  merit,  he  might  have  deserved 
thanks  at  least,  and  not  severe  censure.  Then  again, 
he  makes  incursions  into  fairy-land  with  infinite  success, 
and  these  may  be  truly  said  to  rival  even  Shakespeare 
himself"  (p.  34).  Next,  the  Retrospective  Review 
(Vol.  V.  1822)  : — "  Herrick  is  the  most  joyous  and 
gladsome  of  the  bards,  singing  like  the  grasshopper,  as 
if  he  never  would  grow  old ;  he  is  as  fresh  as  the 
Spring,  as  blithe  as  Summer,  and  as  ripe  as  Autumn. 
We  know  of  no  English  poet  who  is  so  abandonne',  as 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cclxxiii. 

the  French  term  it,  who  so  wholly  gives  himself  up  to 
his  present  feelings,  who  is  so  much  heart  and  soul  in 
what  he  writes,  and  this  not  on  one  subject  only,  but 
on  all  subjects  alike.  The  spirit  of  song  dances  in  his 
veins,  and  gutters  around  his  lips — now  bursting  into 
the  joyfur  and  hearty  voice  of  the  Epicurean,  some 
times  breathing  forth  strains  soft  as  the  sigh  of  '  buried 
love ' ;  and  sometimes  uttering  feelings  of  the  most 
delicate  pensiveness.  His  poems  resemble  a  luxuriant 
meadow,  full  of  king-cups  and  wild  flowers,  or  a  July 
firmament  sparkling  with  a  myriad  of  stars.  His  fancy 
fed  upon  all  the  fair  and  sweet  things  of  nature ;  it  is 
redolent  of  roses  and  geraniums ;  it  is  as  bright  and 
airy  as  the  thistle-down,  or  the  bubbles  which  laughing 
boys  blow  into  the  air,  where  they  float  in  a  waving  line 
of  beauty.  Like  the  sun,  it  communicates  a  delight 
and  gladness  to  everything  it  shines  upon,  and  is  as 
bright  and  radiant  as  his  beams  ;  and  yet  many  of  his 
pieces  conclude  with  the  softest  touches  of  sensibility 
and  feeling.  Indeed,  it  is  that  delicate  pathos  which 
is,  at  the  same  time,  natural  and  almost  playful,  which 
most  charms  us  in  the  writings  of  Herrick.  And  as  for 
his  versification,  it  presents  one  of  the  most  varied 
specimens  of  the  rhythmical  harmony  in  the  language, 


cclxxiv.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

flowing  with  an  almost  wonderful  grace  and  flexibility  " 
(pp.  157-8).  Again:  "And  now  farewell,  young 
Herrick  !  for  yo-ung  is  thy  poetry  as  thy  wisdom  is  old  : 
and  mayest  thou  flourish  in  immortal  youth,  thou  boon 
companion  and  most  jocund  songster  !  May  thy  purest 
poems  be  piped  from  hill  to  bill,  throughout  England  ; 
and  thy  spirit,  tinged  with  superstitious  lore,  be  glad 
dened  by  the  music  !  May  the  flowers  breath  incense 
to  thy  fame,  for  thou  hast  not  left  one  of  them  unsung ! 
May  the  solitary  springs  and  eircumambient  air  murmur 
thy  praises  as  thou  hast  warbled  theirs !  And  may 
those  who  love  well  sing,  and  those  who  love  well,  sigh 
sweet  panegyrics  to  thy  memory  I  Ours  shall  not  be 
wanting,  for  we  have  read  thee  much,  and  would  fain 
hope  that  this  our  paper,  being  nearly  all  made  of  thy 
thoughts  and  language,  may  be  liked  as  well  as  one  like 
thee  is  "  (prx  1 79-180). 

A  "  sweet  singer  "  of  Devonshire  (Mortimer  Collins) 
has  paid  recent  tribute  to  our  Poet ;  and  if  it  be  some 
what  thin,  and  if  it  be  an  anachronism  at  this  time  o' 
day  to  connect  'hypocrite'  with  Oliver  Cromwell,  and 
an  impertinence  to  characterize  the  heroic  and  most 
real  Christianity  of  the  Puritans  and  Nonconformists 
as  <  cant,'  it  were  pity  to  lose  the  little  lilt.  So  "  an' 
it  please  thee,"  Reader,  you  have  it: — 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cclxxv. 


Herrick. 

i. 
Strangely  quiet  are  Devon's  green  glades 

Under  Apollo's  noontide  anger; 
And  the  madid  eyes  of  Devonshire  maids  [moist  (ma- 

Are  full  of  a  sweet  and  dreamy  languor,      didus] 
Terribly  twaddles  the  dreary  "  Times,"— 

Little  is  good  that's  neoteric  ; 
So  I'll  lie  on  the  turf  beneath  the  limes 

With  a  bottle  of  claret  and  rare  old  Herrick. 

2. 

Rare  old  Herrick,  the  Cavalier  Vicar 

Of  pleasant  Dean  Prior  by  Totnes  Town,  — 
Rather  too  wont  in  foaming  liquor 

The  cares  of  those  troublous  times  to  drown,  — 
Of  wicked  wit  by  no  means  chary,  — 

Of  ruddy  lips  not  at  all  afraid  ; 
If  you  gave  him  milk  in  a  Devonshire  Dairy 

He'd  probably  kiss  the  Dairymaid. 


But  loyal  and  true  to  Charles  the  Martyr, 

To  his  high  profession  not  untrue, 
A  poet  who  strained  the  poet's  charter 

Beyond  its  limits  a  point  or  two  ; 
Lover  of  ruby  and  amber  wine, 

Of  joyous  humour  and  charming  girls, 
Hater  of  cant  about  things  divine, 

Of  hypocrite  Cromwell  and  all  his  churls. 


cclxxvi.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


4- 
None  ever  touched  with  so  fine  a  finger 

The  delicate  lyre  of  English  rhyme ; 
He  loved  amid  fresh  flowers  to  linger 

And  he  made  their  fragrance  last  through  time  ; 
And  the  daffodil  growing  in  Spring's  soft  track 

Has  a  beauty  mystic  and  esoteric, 
Since  its  brief  bright  life,  two  centuries  back, 

Was  made  into  verse  by  our  Devonshire  Herrick. 

5- 
Well  the  poet  liked  fair  London  city  ; 

He  polished  some  of  its  choicest  gems, 
And  wrote  full  many  a  lyric  ditty, 

In  taverns  over  the  sparkling  Thames  : 
For  those  were  the  days  when  the  Thames  ran  clear 

Palace  and  shadowy  lawn  between, 
And  bays  glittered  with  stately  cheer, 

And  light  feet  danced  upon  Charing  green. 

6. 
London  town  is  another  affair 

Since  Herrick  wrote  his  perfect  rhymes  ; 
But  Devon  has  the  same  Elysian  air 

It  had  in  the  fine  old  Cavalier  times ; 
And  he  who  cares  little  for  all  the  hysteric 

Trash  which  the  "well-informed"  reader  sees, 
Can't  do  better  than  study  Herrick 

With  a  flask  of  claret  under  the  trees." 

(Summer  Songs  by  Mortimer  Collins  (1860)  p.  114.) 

ALEXANDER  B.  GROSART. 


APPENDIX 

TO 

MEMORIAL- INTRODUCTION. 


cclxxviii.        MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


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cclxxx.          MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 


B. 


RICHARD     HEYRICK,     OR 
H  ERRI  C  K. 

Richard  Heyrick  (or  Herrick)  is  by  far  the  most 
notable  of  the  Herricks  (the  Poet  excepted),  and  as  a 
striking  contrast  with  his  cousin,  and  as,  moreover, 
hitherto  overlooked  very  much,  it  is  most  satisfactory 
to  be  able  to  add  here  the  following  notices  of  him,  for 
which  I  am  indebted  to  my  excellent  friend  W.  A. 
Abram,  Esq.,  of  Blackburn,  the  Historian  of  Blackburn. 

"  Richard  Heyrick,  third  son  of  Sir  William  Heyrick, 
of  Beaumanor  Park,  co.  Leicester,  was  born  in  London 
the  9th  Sept.,  1600.  After  receiving  the  elements  of 
learning  at  Merchant  Taylor's  school,  he  entered  at 
All  Saints'  College,  Oxford;  took  the  degree  of  M.  A. 
at  the  age  of  20,  and  four  years  later,  in  1624,  was 
elected  a  fellow  of  his  College.  On  the  petition  of  his 
father,  to  whom  the  Royal  house  was  under  obligation 
for  pecuniary  assistance,  Richard  Heyrick  obtained 
from  Charles  the  First,  in  the  year  1626,  the  promise 
of  the  reversion  of  the  Wardenship  of  Manchester 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.        cclxxxi. 

College  after  the  decease  of  Richard  Murray,  Knt.  By 
the  King's  Charter  to  Christ's  College,  Manchester, 
dated  30th  Sept.,  1635,  Richard  Heyrick  was  consti 
tuted  '  first  warder  of  the  said  perpetual  College.'  He 
came  into  possession  of  this  appointment,  then  worth 
about  ^"700  per  annum,  at  the  age  of  36.  In  his 
ecclesiastical  views,  Warden  Heyrick  was  a  puritan  of 
Presbyterian  tendencies  in  church  government,  and  a 
vehement  hater  of  Popery  and  all  its  works.  He 
preached  several  set  discourses  in  the  Manchester 
Collegiate  Church,  during  the  years  1638-40,  against 
Popery,  which  exhibit  the  intensity  of  his  antagonism 
to  the  Roman  system  and  its  adherents  in  England. 
In  1641,  he  published  in  duodecimo  '  Three  Sermons 
preached  at  the  Collegiate  Church,  Manchester,'  dedi 
cated  to  the  House  of  Commons ;  one  of  the  three 
sermons  was  preached  on  the  public  Fast  Day,  8th 
July,  1640.  Warden  Heyrick  drafted  the  address  of 
the  Puritans  of  Lancashire  to  the  King,  at  the  outset  of 
the  Civil  War  in  1644,  which  was  subscribed  by  sixty- 
four  Knights  and  esquires,  fifty-five  divines,  740  gentle 
men,  and  7,000  freeholders  and  others.  The  same 
year,  somewhat  later  on,  he  was  the  first  in  Manchester 
to  subscribe  the  Solemn  League  and  Covenant.  During 
the  war,  the  Warden  stoutly  upheld  the  cause  of  Par- 


cclxxxii.        MEMORIAL-INTROD  UCTION, 

liament,  and  is  said  to  have  given  the  larger  proportion 
of  his  official  income  to  provide  pay  for  the  forces  gar 
risoning  Manchester.  In  1646,  the  sequestration  by 
Parliament  included  the  revenues  of  the  College  and 
Church  of  Manchester ;  but  Warden  Heyrick  took  the 
opportunity  of  an  invitation  to  preach  before  the  House 
of  Commons  to  urge  an  appeal,  which  was  successful, 
for  the  restoration  of  the  estate  of  his  College.  He 
was  a  chief  agent  in  the  establishment  of  the  Lancashire 
Presbytery,  Oct.,  1646  ;  and  made  a  journey  to  London 
in  that  year.  In  1649,  tne  Republican  soldiers  under 
Col.  Thomas  Birch  broke  into  the  Chapter  House  of 
Manchester  Collegiate  Church,  and  seized  the  charters 
of  its  endowment,  which  the  Warden  vainly  essayed  to 
protect.  These  deeds  were  sent  to  London,  and  were 
never  recovered  thereafter.  The  Commissioners  of 
sequestration  granted  to  Herrick  a  small  stipend  of 
^"100  per  annum;  but  he  regarded  the  College  as 
dissolved,  and  ceased  to  use  the  title  of  Warden.  In 
1651,  Richard  Heyrick  was  so  imprudent  as  to  proceed 
to  London  for  the  purpose  of  joining  with  some  Pres 
byterians  there  in  an  attempt  to  excite  a  revolt  against 
the  Republican  party  then  in  the  ascendant ;  the  con 
sequence  being  that  after  the  battle  of  Worcester 
Heyrick  was  arrested  in  Manchester,  taken  to  London, 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.      cclxxxiii. 

and  imprisoned,  along  with  his  son-in-law,  Mr.  Johnson. 
Some  of  his  confederates  in  the  scheme  of  disaffection 
were  sentenced  to  death  ;  but  friends  at  court  protected 
Heyrick,  and  obtained  his  liberation.  Mr.  Heyrick  is 
found  presiding  as  Moderator  at  the  synod  of  the 
Lancashire  Presbytery  in  October,  1657  ;  and  in  May, 
1658,  he  made  a  journey  to  London  on  church  busi 
ness.  On  the  Restoration  in  1660,  the  College  of 
Manchester  was  re-instated,  and  its  endowments  re 
stored  ;  but  Heyrick  was  temporarily  in  danger  of  being 
supplanted  in  the  office  of  Warden  by  one  Dr.  Woolley, 
a  royalist  partizan.  Henry  Newcome  in  his  journal 
writes: — 'July  2,  1660.  I  heard  of  Mr.  Heyrick's 
going  to  London ;  the  cause  was  his  wardenship  was 
claimed  by  Dr.  Wolley,  to  whom  King  Charles  I.  in 
the  beginning  of  the  war  had  granted  it,  for  Mr.  H.'s 
delinquency;  and  so  he  was  forced  to  go  up  to  look  after 
it.'  Eventually,  the  old  Warden  was  restored  to  his 
function.  Heyrick  preached  the  sermon  at  the  Col 
legiate  Church,  Manchester,  on  the  Coronation  Day 
of  Charles  II.,  Tuesday,  April  23,  1661.  This  dis 
course  was  printed  by  the  Manchester  Royalists,  with 
an  epistle  to  the  preacher  prefixed,  who  was  not  con 
sulted  in  the  publication.  Warden  Heyrick  conformed, 
but  with  some  show  of  reluctance  and  humiliation, 


cclxxxiv.       MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION. 

under  the  Act  of  Uniformity  in  1662.  He  survived 
this  change  in  his  profession  five  years,  and  died,  aged 
67,  Aug.  6th,  1667.  Mr.  Newcome,  his  associate,  records 
the  event : — '  I  heard  of  the  sudden  and  dangerous 
sickness  of  poor  Mr.  Heyrick;  insomuch  that  August  ist 
[1667],  I  went  on  purpose  to  see  him.  I  found  him 
very  ill.  We  returned  to  town  on  the  Saturday, 
August  3rd.  August  5th  was  kept  in  private  on  his 
behalf.  I  went  every  day  to  see  him ;  and  on  Tuesday 
in  the  evening  we  had  a  report  that  he  was  better,  and 
went  up  to  see  him  towards  evening,  and  he  was  de 
clining  fast,  insomuch  that  Mrs.  Heyrick  desired  us 
not  to  leave  her ;  and  we  did  stay,  and  was  at  prayer 
for  him  just  as  he  died,  about  nine  at  night,  on  August 
6th  (Tuesday).  .  .  August  9th  (Friday)  we  buried  my 
old  friend  and  colleague."  By  his  first  wife,  Hellen, 
daughter  of  Thomas  Corbit,  of  Spranston,  co.  Norfolk, 
Richard  Heyrick  had  issue  a  son,  Thomas,  born  Sept. 
9th,  1632  ;  and  daughters,  Mary,  married  Mr.  John 
Johnson,  of  Manchester;  and  Elizabeth,  married, 
April  1 7th,  1661,  Rev.  Richard  Holbrook,  of  Salford. 
His  second  wife  was  Anna  Maria,  daughter  of  Mr. 
Erasmus  Britton,  merchant,  of  Hamburg ;  by  her  he 
had  a  son  John,  born  in  1652,  and  died  young;  and  a 
daughter  Hellen,  married  Thomas  Radcliffe,  Esq. 


MEMORIAL-INTRODUCTION.         cclxxxv. 

Warden  Heyrick's  will  bears  date  May  6th,  1661.  His 
memorial  in  Manchester  Collegiate  Church  is  a  plate 
of  copper,  within  an  oaken  frame,  and  is  fixed  over 
the  entrance  to  the  Chapter  House. 


HESPERIDES. 


1 


HESPERIDES:    " 

O  R, 

THE    WORKS 

BOTH 

HUMANE  &  DIVINE 

OF 
ROBERT  HERRICK  Efq. 

OVID. 

Effugient  avidos  Carmina  noflra  Rogos. 


L  O  N  D  ON, 

Printed  for  John  Williams,  and  Francis  Eglesfield, 

and  are  to  be  fold  at  the  Crown  and  Marygold 

in  Saint  Pauls  Church-yard.     1648. 


ip 
TO  THE  MOST 

I  L  L  VST  RI  O  V  S, 

AND 

Moft    Hopefull    PRINCE, 
C      H      A      R      L      E      S    M 

Prince  of  Wales.1 

Ell   may  my  Book  come  forth   like 

Publique  Day, 
When  fuch  a  Light  as  You  are  leads 

the  way : 

Who  are  my  Works  Creator,  and  alone 
The  Flame  of  it,  and  the  Expanfton. 
And  look  how  all  thofe  heavenly  Lamps  acquire 
Light  from  the  Sun,  that  inexhaufted*  Fire : 
So  all  my  Morne,  and  Evening  Stars  from  You 
Have  their  Exigence,  and  their  Influence  too. 
Full  is  my  Book  of  Glories ;  but  all  Thefe 
By  You  become  Immortall  Subjlances. 


Afterwards  Charles  II. 


2   =  inexhaustible. 


FOr  thefe  Tranfgrefsions  which  thou  here  dojlfee, 
Condemne  the  Printer,  Reader,  and  not  me  ; 
Who  gave  them  forth  good  Grain,  though  he  mi/look 
The  Seed ;  fofow'd  thefe  Tares  throughout  my  Book. 


ERRATA. 

PAge  33.  line  10.  read  Rods  [for  frod'].  p.  41.  i.  19.  r. 
Gotiere  [for  'Goteire'].  p.  65  \.  12.  r.  only  one  [for 
'our],  p.  83.  1.  28.  r.  soft  [for  'foft'].  p.  88.  1.  26.  r.  the 
floivrie  [for  'flowrie'  without  'the']  p.  91.  1.  29.  r.  such  fears 
[for  'Flesh-quakes'],  p.  136.  1.  9.  r.  to  thee  the  [for  'the' 
dropped],  p.  155.  1.  10.  r.  ivasht  or*s  to  tell  [for  '  Washt  o're']. 
p.  166.  1.  10.  r.  his  Lachrim^e  [for  'Lacrime'].  p.  181.  1.  10.  r. 
Ah  ivoe  is  me,  ivoe,  ivoe  is  me  [for  '  Ah  !  woe  woe  woe  woe 
woe  is  me'],  p.  183.  1.  9.  r.  and  thy  brest  [for  'bed']  p.  201.  1. 
22.  r.  let  chast  [for  'yet'],  p.  230.  1.  21.  r.  and hauing  drunk  [for 
'  havink '].  p.  260.  1.  26.  r.  to  rise  [for  '  to  kisse ']  p.  335. 1.  17.  r. 
a  "wife  as  [for  '  or  a  wife ']. 

In  the  Divine. 
Pag.  22.  line  14.  read  'where  so  ere  he  sees  [for  'when  he  sees']. 


Hitherto  omitted  e.g.  by  Dundrennan,  Singer,  Walford, 
Hazlitt.  Dr.  Nott  adopts  and  adapts  the  verses  to  the  errata  of  his 
"  Selections,"  (18 10).  The  whole  of  these  errata  have  been  silently 
corrected  in  our  text. 


1 


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*  Wassails?  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. 

4  Harvest-home  cart :  the  last  loaded  in  the  harvest.  So  Hock- 
tide  or  festival.  It  is  curiously  mixed  up  with  the  history  of  the 
Danes  in  England.  See  Bailey,  s.  v.  "  The  Hock-cart,  Vol.  I.  pp. 
172-8 

*  Wassail  or  wassel  (waes  hael  A.  S.  'be  in  health') — a  liquor 
made  of  apples,  sugar  and  ale,  which  being  freely  partaken  of  at 
Christmas  or  Twelfth-tide,  led  to  the  word  meaning  =  hilarious,  if 
not  drunken,  bouts.  So  Shakespeare,  "at  wakes  and  wassails" 
(Love's  Labour  Lost,  v.  2). 

9  A  watch  or  vigil,  ordinarily  with  a  corpse  at  night. 

B 


HESPERIDES. 


I  sing  of  Dewes,  of  Raines,  and  piece  by  piece 
Of  Balme,  of  Oyle,  of  Spice,  and  Amber-Greece.1 
I  sing  of  Times  trans-shifting;  and  I  write 
How  Roses  first  came  Red,  and  Lillies  WJiite. 
I  write  of  Groves,  of  Twilights,  and  I  sing 
The  Court  of  J/##,  and  of  the  JFairie-King. 
I  write  of  Hell ;  I  sing  (and  ever  shall) 
Of  Heaven,  and  hope  to  have  it  after  all. 

To  his  Muse. 
"Xl^HITHER,  Mad  maiden,  wilt  thou  roame? 

Farre  safer  'twere  to  stay  at  home  : 
Where  thou  mayst  sit,  and  piping  please 
The  poore  and  private  Cottages. 
Since  Coats,91  and  Hamlets,  best  agree 
With  this  thy  meaner  Minstralsie. 

7  =  Sea-born  amber,  i.e.  amber  gris  (French) — one  of  theivarieties 
of  amber.  See  Cotgrave  and  notes  in  Marvell  and  Herbert,  s.  v. 
(Fuller  Worthies'  Library  and  Aldine  Poets). 

b  =cots,  cottages,  named  in  preceding  line.  Barnfield  so  spells 
(Roxburghe  Club  edn).  On  the  '  lore'  of  the  word  '  cote,'  see  H.  Leo 
in  his  treatise  on  Saxon  Names  of  Places  (Rectitudines  Singularum 
Personarum),  translated  by  B.  Williams  :  London,  1852,  p.  55. 
Dr.  Nott,  in  his  "  Selections"  (1810),  on  11.  19-20  onward,  anno 
tates  :  Thus,  too,  Petrarch  addresses  and  concludes  his  26th  Canzone: 

O  poverella  mia,  come  se'  rozza ; 
Credo  che  tel  corioschi ; 
Rimanti  in  questi  hoschi. 


HESPER1DES. 


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  ; J 

Or  to  a  Girle  (that  keeps  the  Neat)  2 

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 : 

Where  thou  mayst  hear  thine  own  Lines  read 

By  no  one  tongue,  there,  censured. 

That  man's  unwise  will  search  for  Illr 

And  may  prevent  it,  sitting  stilL 


9  =  pastoral  songs  or  poems  (bucolics). 

1  Herrick  affects  such  diminutives :  see  Glossarial  Index,  s.  v. 

2  =  oxen  or  cows. 


io  HESPERIDES. 


To  his  Booke. 

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  lie  smile,  if  bad  He  sigh  for  Thee. 

Another. 
HTO  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. 

Another. 
AX^HO  with  thy  leaves  shall  wipe  (at  need) 

The  place,  where  swelling  Piles  do  breed  : 
May  every  111,  that  bites,  or  smarts, 
Perplexe  him  in  his  hinder-parts. 

3  =  sincerity  or  integrity :  metaphorically  whiteness,  as  being  un 
published  and  so  unhandled  and  unsoiled.     See  Glossarial-Index, 
s.  v. 

4  Brutus  and  Cato  are  common -places  of  examples  of  severe  vir 
tue,  as  in  "  When  he  would  have  his  verses  read,"  (1.  io)  p.  6. 


HESPERIDES.  1 1 


To  the  soure  Reader. 

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. 

{~*OME  thou  not  neere  those  men,  who  are  like  Bread 
O're-leven'd  \  or  like  Cheese  o're-renetted.5 

When  he  would  have  his  verses  read. 
T  N  sober  mornings,  doe  not  thou  reherse 

The  holy  incantation  of  a  verse ; 
But  when  that  men  have  both  well  drunke,6  and  fed, 
Let  my  Enchantments  then  be  sung,  or  read. 
When  Laurell  spirts  'ith'  fire,7  and  when  the  Hearth 
Smiles  to  it  selfe,  and  guilds  the  roofe  with  mirth  ; 


8  From  rennet,  the  maw  of  a  calf,  used  for  making  curds  in  curds 
and  cream  and  cheese. 
6  St.  John,  ii.,  10.  7  Folk-lore. 


12  HESPERIDES. 


When  up  the  Thyrse*  is  rais'd,  and  when  the  sound 
Of  sacred  Orgies  9  flyes,  A  round,  A  round ; 1 
When  the  Rose  raignes,  and  locks  with  ointments  shine, 
Let  rigid  Cato  read  these  Lines  of  mine. 

Upon  Julias  Recovery. 
"TJROOP,  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  beames2  of  Corrall,  but  more  cleare. 


s  A  Javelin  twind  with  Ivy.  H.  [And  headed  with  pine-cones — 
used  in  the  rites  and  orgies  of  Bacchus.] 

9  Songs  to  Bacchus.  H.  *  =  a  call  to  dance  '  a  round,'  not 

'  around,  around.*  2  =  branches  or  twigs. 


HESPERIDES.  13 


To  Silvia  to  wed. 
T   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  ; 
No  man  at  one  time,  can  be  wise,  and  love. 

The  Parliament  of  Roses  to  Julia. 
T   DREAMT  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  State3  was  drawne 
Of  Tiffanie,4  or  Cob-web  Lawne  ;5 
Then  in  that  Parly  f  all  those  powers 
Voted  the  Rose,  the  Queen  of  flowers. 
But  so,  as  that  her  self  should  be 
The  maide  of  Honour  unto  thee. 

5  =  canopy.  *  = thin  silk  or  fine  gauze.  s  =  lawn  as 

delicately  wrought  as  a  spider's  web. 

6  Diminutive  of  Parliament  (cf.  L  2):    Parley  =  conference  and 
discussion  between  enemies,  while  war  is  suspended. 


14  HESPERIDES. 


No  Bashfulnesse  in  begging. 
T^O  get  thine  ends,  lay  bashfulnesse  aside ; 
Whofeares  to  aske,  doth  teach  to  be  deny'd. 

The  Frozen  Heart. 
J   FREEZE,  I  freeze,  and  nothing  dwels 

In  me  but  Snow,  and  y sides. 
For  pitties  sake,  give  your  advice, 
To  melt  this  snow,  and  thaw  this  ice ; 
Fie  drink  down  Flames,  but  if  so  be 
Nothing  but  love  can  supple  me ; 
I'le  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  Spring;1 

7   =  sacred  fountain :  *  creame.'  Qu  :  foam  or  froth  ?     See  Brand 
under  "  Wells  and  Fountains." 


HESPERIDES. 


With  which  (Perilla)  wash  my  hands  and  feet  \ 
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-strewings  8  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. 


A  Song  to  the  Maskers. 
down,  and  dance  ye  in  the  toyle 
Of  pleasures,  to  a  Heate  ; 
But  if  to  moisture,  Let  the  oyle 
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. 


-of  flowers  on  the  grave.  See  Brand  s.  v.  for  a  full  account. 


16  HESPERIDES. 


3  As  Goddesse  Isis  9  (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. 
"YyHEN  I  thy  Parts  runne  o're,  I  can't  espie 

In  any  one,  the  least  indecencie  : a 
But  every  Line  and  Limb  diffused  thence, 
A  faire,  and  unfamiliar  excellence  : 
So,  that  the  more  I  look,  the  more  I  prove, 
Trier's  still  more  cause,  why  I  the  more  should  love. 

Treason. 

^PHE  seeds  of  Treason  choake  up  as  they  spring, 
He  Acts  the  Crime,  that  gives  it  Cherishing. 

Two  Things  Odious. 

*T*WO  of  a  thousand  things,  are  disallow'd, 
A  lying  Rich  man,  and  a  Poore  man  proud. 


9  Cf.  "  Love  perfumes  all  paths  "  onward :  1.  7,  mythical. 
1   =  inelegance  or  disorder.     So  Milton,  "  Over  thy  decent  shoul 
ders  drawn  "  (II  Penseroso,  1.  36). 


HESPERIDES.  17 

To  his  Mistresses. 
T_J  ELPE  me  !  helpe  me  !  now  I  call 

To  my  pretty  Witchcrafts  all ; 
Old  I  am,  and  cannot  do 
That,  I  was  accustom'd  to. 
Bring  your  Magicks,  Spels,  and  Charmes, 
To  enflesh  my  thighs,  and  armes : 
Is  there  no  way  to  beget 
In  my  limbs  their  former  heat  ? 
jEson  had  ( as  Poets  faine ) 2 
Baths  that  made  him  young  againe : 
Find  that  Medicine  ( if  you  can ) 
For  your  drie-decrepid  man  : 
Who  would  faine  his  strength  renew, 
Were  it  but  to  pleasure  you. 

The  Wounded  Heart. 
QOME  bring  your  sampler?  and  with  Art, 

Draw  in't  a  wounded  Heart : 

And  dropping  here,  and  there  : 
Not  that  I  thinke,  that  any  Dart, 


8  Ovid.  Met.  vii.  163,  250,  &c. 

3  Fine  canvas  on  which  ornamental  wool-work,  and  sometimes  in 
silk,  was  wrought  with  the  needle. 


1 8  HESPERIDES. 


Can  make  your's  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. 
VfyfHAT  I  fancy,  I  approve, 

No  Dislike  there  is  in  love : 
Be  my  Mistresse  short  or  tall, 
And  distorted  there-withall : 
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  Tongue  wag  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* 

4   =  equal,  or  compeer,  i.  e.,  the  peerless  or   pattern   one.     See 
Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


H  ESP  BRIDES.  19 


To  Anthca. 
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  : 5 
Nere  to  thy  Reverend  Pitcher*  I  will  fall 
Down  dead  for  grief,  and  end  my  woes  withall : 
So  three  in  one  small  plat7  of  ground  shall  ly, 
Anthea,  Herrick,  and  his  Poetry. 

The  Weeping  Cherry. 
T  SAW  a  Cherry  weep,  and  why  ? 

Why  wept  it  ?  but  for  shame, 
Because  ray  Julia's  lip  was  by, 

And  did  out-red  the  same. 
But,  pretty  Fondling,8  let  not  fall 

A  teare  at  all  for  that : 
Which  Rubies,  Corralls,  Scarlets,  all 

For  tincture,9  wonder  at. 

5  =  binding  with  fillets  or  bandages,  and  in  the  fillets  themselves 
as  bindings,  there  were  bands. 

6  =  that  from  which  she  made  libations  and  sacrificed. 

7  =  small  piece  of  ground  :  sometimes  '  plot.' 

*   —  foolish  little  thing.  9    =  colour  or  hue. 


20  HESPERIDES. 


Soft  Mustek. 

HTHE  mellow  touch  of  musick  most  doth  wound 
The  soule,  when  it  doth  rather  sigh,  then  sound. 


The  Difference  betwixt 

Kings  and  Subiects. 
'pWIXT  Kings  and  Subjects  ther's  this  mighty 

odds, 
Subjects  are  taught  by  Men;  Kings  by  the  Gods. 

His  Answer  fo  a  Question. 
COME  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  ? 


HESPERIDES.  21 


Upon  Julia's  Fall. 
T  VLI A  was  carelesse,  and  withall, 

She  rather  took,1  then 2  got  a  fall : 
The  wanton  Ambler  chanc'd  to  see 
Part  of  her  leggs  sinceritie :  8 
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. 
T  I VE  with  a  thrifty,  not  a  needy  Fate ; 

Small  shots  ^  paid  often,  waste  a  vast  estate. 

Love  what  it  is. 

T  OVE  is  a  circle  that  doth  restlesse  move 
In  the  same  sweet  eternity  of  love. 


1  i.  e.  she  might  be  said  to  have  merited  it. 

'   =than — and  so  throughout  as  placed  in  the  margin. 

3  =pureness.  4  •»  debts. 


22  HESPERWES. 

Presence  and  Absence. 

VyHEN  what  is  lov'd  is  Present,  love  doth  spring  ; 
But  being  absent,  Love  lies  languishing.5 

No  Spouse  but  a  Sister. 
A   BACHELOUR  I  will 

Live  as  I  have  hVd  still, 
And  never  take  a  wife 
To  crucifie  my  life  : 
But  this  I'le  tell  ye  too, 
What  now  I  meane  to  doe ; 
A  Sister  ( in  the  stead 
Of  Wife)  about  I'le  lead;6 
Which  I  will  keep  embraced, 
And  kisse,  but  yet  be  chaste. 

The  Pomander'1  Bracelet. 
'T'O  me  my  Julia  lately  sent 

A  Bracelet  richly  Redolent : 
The  Beads  I  kist,  but  most  lov'd  her 
That  did  perfume  the  Pomander. 

5  Allusion  to  the  flower  Love-Lies-Bleeding. 

6  i  Corinthians,  ix.  5. 

7  =Pomme  d'ambre  (French),  i.  e.  an  amber  apple  (and  some 
times  a  pear)  having  been  the  form  of  a  silver  case  within  which  the 


HESPERIDES.  23 

The  shooe  tying. 
\NTHEA  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. 

The  Carkanet* 
T  NSTEAD  of  Orient  Pearls,  of  Jet, 

I  sent  my  Love  a  Karkanet : 
About  her  spotlesse  neck  she  knit 
The  lace,9  to  honour  me,  or  it : 
Then  think  how  wrapt l  was  I  to  see 
My  Jet  t'enthrall  such  Ivorie. 

ball  of  various  scents,  mainly  ambergris,  was  enclosed,  having  holes 
pierced  throughout,  for  escape  of  the  perfume.  A  pomander  bracelet 
was  made  of  these  balls,  &c.  Such  balls  were  supposed  to  be  use 
ful  against  infection  so  late  as  1610.  The  Plague  that  year  being 
in  Oxford,  George  Radcliflfe  (afterwards  Sir  George)  wrote  that  his 
tutor  "  had  sent  him  out  of  town,  if  he  had  desired  it,  and  made  him 
a  Pomander"  (Churton's  Life  of  Dean  Nowell,  pp.  21-2).  Becon 
named  a  rare  little  book  of  his  "  The  Pomander  of  Prayers,"  (1578). 

*  The  carcanet  was  a  gold  or  other  ornamental  chain,  or  neck 
lace,  worn  round  the  neck.  Carcan  originally  signified  an  iron 
collar  to  confine  malefactors  to  a  post.  Nicot,  in  his  Grand  Dic- 
tivmnre,  defines  it,  omement  d'or  qu'on  imst  au  col  des  demoiselles.  N. 

9   =  the  string  of  the  carkanet  or  necklace. 

1   =rapt,  enraptured. 

C 


24  HESPERIDES. 


His  sailing  from  Julia. 
T  HEN  that  day  comes,  whose  evening  sayes  I'm 

gone 

Unto  that  watrie  Desolation  : 
Devoutly  to  thy  Closet-gods  2  then  pray, 
That  my  wing'd  Ship  may  meet  no  Remora? 
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  4  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  Wallflower  came  firsty  and 

why  so  called. 
'\X7HY  this  Flower  is  now  calPd  so, 

Last'  sweet  maids,  and  you  shal  know. 

•  =  lares,  of  whom  Herrick  is  so  fond. 

3  =  hindrance  :  from  the  small  fish  or  worm  called  a  sea-lamprey 
or  suckstone,  of  which  it  was  long  a  Vulgar  Error  that  by  attaching 
itself  to  a  ship's  bottom  it  arrested  its  motion.     See  Bailey,  s.  v. 

4  =  lift  the  sluice  to  make  way  for  a  tear. 


HESPERIDES.  25 


Understand,  this  First-ling 5  was 
Once  a  brisk  and  bonny  Lasse, 
Kept  as  close  as  Danae  was  : 
Who  a  sprightly  Springall*  lov'd, 
And  to  have  it  fully  prov'd, 
Up  she  got  upon  a  wall, 
Tempting  down  to  slide  withall : 
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. 
HTHESE  fresh  beauties  (we  can  prove) 

Once  were  Virgins  sick  of  love, 
Turn'd  to  Flowers.     Still  in  some 
Colours  goe,  and  colours  come. 

71?  his  Mistresse  objecting  to  him  neither 

Toying  or  Talking. 
VOU  say  I  love  not,  'cause  I  doe  not  play 

Still  with  your  curies,  and  kisse  the  time  away. 

*   =  first  produce  or  offspring.     G.      6  =  a  youth  or  stripling. 


26  HESPERIDES. 


You  blame  me  too,  because  I  cann't  devise 

Some  sport,  to  please  those  Babies 7  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  Casques9  are  ever  found 

To  give,  (if  any,  yet)  but  little  sound. 

Deep  waters  noyse-lesse  are ;  And  this  we  know, 

That  chiding  streams  betray  small  depth  below.1 

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. 


7  =  the  tiny  face-reflection  in  the  pupil  of  the  eyes.     This  sportive 
conceit,  says  Dr.  Nott,  was  imagined  perhaps  before,  and  certainly 
since  Herrick  wrote. 

See  where  little  Cupid  lies 

Looking  babies  in  the  eyes. 
Thus  in  our  looks  some  propagation  lies, 
For  we  make  babies  in  each  others  eyes. 
LITTLE,  alias  MOORE. 

8  A  common-place  from  classical  rimes.    The  greatest  of  all  is  in 
Shakespeare :  "  The  grief  that  does  not  speak,  whispers  the  o'er- 
fraught  heart,  and  bids  it  break"  (Macbeth  ir.  3). 

9  =  casks  or  barrels.  *  A  classical  common-place  from 
Ovid  onward,  and  frequent  in  the  Elizabethan  poets. 


HESPERIDES.  _>7 


Upon  the  losse  of  his  Mistresses. 
T  HAVE  lost,  and  lately,  these 

Many  dainty  Mistresses : 
Stately  Julia,  prime  of  all ; 
Sapho  next,  a  principall : 
Smooth  Anthea,  for  a  skin 
White,  and  Heaven-like  Chrystalline  : 
Sweet  Electra,  and  the  choice 
Myrha,  for  the  Lute,  and  Voice. 
Next,  Corinnay  for  her  wit, 
And  the  graceful  use  of  it : 
With  Perilla :  All  are  gone  ; 
Onely  HerricHs  left  alone, 
For  to  number  sorrow  by 
Their  departures  hence,  and  die. 

The  Dream. 
AT E  thought  (last  night)  Love  in  an  anger  came, 

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. 


28  HESPERIDES. 


The  Vine. 
T   DREAM'D  this  mortal  part  of  mine 

Was  Metamorphoz'd  to  a  Vine  ; 
Which  crawling  one  and  every  way, 
EnthralPd  my  dainty  Lucia. 
Me  thought,  her  long  small  legs  &  thighs 
I  with  my  Tendrils  did  surprize ; 
Her  Belly,  Buttocks,  and  her  Waste 
By  my  soft  Nertflits  2  were  embrac'd  : 
About  her  head  I  writhing 3  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.4 
My  curies  about  her  neck  did  craule, 
And  armes  and  hands  they  did  enthrall : 
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  Stocky  then  like  a  Vine. 


=  diminutive  of  nerves.  3  =  entwining. 

Ivy,  the  vine — one  of  many  myths  concerning  Dionysius. 


HESPERIDES.  29 


To  Love. 
T  'M  free,  from  thee  ;  aud  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  himselje. 

"YfOUNG  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. 

LWJS  play  at  Push-pin.  5 
T  OVE  and  my  selfe  (beleeve  me)  on  a  day 

At  childish  Push-pin  (for  our  sport)  did  play  : 
I  put,  he  pusht,6  and  heedless  of  my  skin, 
Love  prickt  my  finger  with  a  golden  pin  : 

5  A  child-game,  with  pins  'pushed'  alternately.  6  I  placed,  he  pushed. 


30  HESPERIDES. 


Since  which,  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  ringer  bled,  but  burnt  was  all  my  heart, 

The  Rvsarie. 
/""^NE  ask'd  me  where  the  roses  grew? 

I  bade  him  not  goe  seek ; 
But  forthwith  bade  my  Julia  shew 
A  bud  in  either  cheek.r 

Upon  Cupid. 
f~\  LD  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  bring  him  Lint,  and  Balsamumy 
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. 

7  Cf. « The  Rock  of  Rubies  *  onward. 

8  =  plug  for  a  wound.  9  =  stilletto  or  dagger. 


HESPE RIDES.  31 


The  Parcae,  or,  Three  dainty  Destinies. 

The  Armilet.1 
T^HREE  lovely  Sisters  working  were 

( As  they  were  closely  set ) 
Of  soft  and  dainty  Maiden-haire,2 

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. 
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. 

Sorrowes  succeed. 

EN  one  is  past,  another  care  we  have, 
Thus  woe  succeeds  a  woe;  as  wave  a  wave. 


1   =  armlet :  armilla,  a  bracelet  worn  on  the  wrist  or  arm. 
"   =  A  fern  so  called,  found  on  walls  and  ruins,  with  an  inner  play 
on  the  hair  of  a  maiden. 


32  HESPERIDES. 


Cherry-pit. 
T  ULIA  and  I  did  lately  sit 

Playing  for  sport,  at  Cherry-pit :  3 
She  threw  ;  I  cast ;  and  having  thrown, 
I  got  the  Pit,  and  she  the  Stone. 

To  Robin  Red-brest. 
T  AID  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  Her  rick  is. 

Discontents  in  Devon. 
TV/TORE  discontents  I  never  had 
Since  I  was  born,  then  here ; 
Where  I  have  bee'n,  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. 

3  A  child-game,  in  which  they  threw  cherry-stones  into  a  small 
hole:  "play  at  cherry-pit"  (Twelfth  Night,  iii.  4). 


HESPERIDES.  33 


To  his  Paternall  Countrey. 
C\  EARTH  !  Earth  !  Earth  !  heare  thou  my  voice, 

and  be 

Loving,  and  gentle  for  to  cover  me  : 
Banish'd  from  thee  I  live ;  ne'r  to  return, 
Unlesse  thou  giv'st  my  small  Remains  an  Urne. 

Cherrie-ripe. 
r^HERRIE-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  Jfu/ia>s  lips  doe  smile ; 
There's  the  Land,  or  Cherry-He  : 
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  :4 
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. 

4  See  Glossarial  Index,  2  v.        6  Probably  a  new-coined  adjective 
from  nectar  =  nectar-like. 


34  HESPERIDES. 


To  Anthea. 
"^"  Ow  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. 

The  Vision  to  Electra. 
T   DREAM  'D  we  both  were  in  a  bed 

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. 

6  At  the  processions  or  perambulations  of  the  parish,  the  Gospel 
was  read  at  certain  trees,  thence  called  '  Gospel  trees.'  See  Brand 
(ed.  Hazlitt)  i.  112. 


HESPERIDES.  35 


Dreames. 

"LJ  ERE  "we  are  all,  by  day  :  By  night  w'are  hurl'd 
By  dreames,  each  one,  into  a  sev'rall  world. 


Ambition. 

T  N  man,  Ambition  is  the  common'st  thing  ; 
Each  one,  by  nature,  loves  to  be  a  king. 

His  request  to  Julia. 
T  ULIA,  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. 

JP IGHT  thou  with  shafts  of  silver,  and  o'rcome, 
When  no  force  else  can  get  the  masterdome. 

The  Scar-fire^ 
V\fATER>  water  I  desire, 

Here's  a  house  of  flesh  on  fire  : 

7    =a  fright  by  fire  :  query — a  beacon  of  alarm  (as  of  invasion). 


36  HESPERIDES. 


Ope'  the  fountains  and  the  springs, 
And  come  all  to  Buckittings  :8 
What  ye  cannot  quench,  pull  downe  ; 
Spoile  a  house,  to  save  a  towne  : 
Better  'tis  that  one  shu'd  fall, 
Then  by  one  to  hazard  all. 

Upon  Silvia,  a  Mistresse. 

vy  HEN  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  Priceless9  now,  what  Peerless  once  had  been  : 
Upon  thy  Forme  more  wrinkles  yet  will  fall, 
And  comming  downe,  shall  make  no  noise  at  all. 

Cheerfulnesse  in  Charitie :  or, 

The  sweet  Sacrifice. 
'"PIS  not  a  thousand  Bullocks  thies 

Can  please  those  Heav'nly  Deities, 
If  the  Vower  don't  express 
In  his  Offering,  Cheerfulness. 


s   =  filling  of  buckets.  9   =  valueless. 


HESPERIDES.  37 

Once  poor e,  still  penurious. 

the  world  now,  it  will  with  thee  goe  hard  : 
^^i 

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. 

Sweetnesse  in  Sacrifice. 
"T*IS  not  greatness  they  require, 

To  be  offer'd  up  by  fire  : 
But  'tis  sweetness  that  doth  please 
Those  Eternall  Essences. 

Steame  in  Sacrifice. 

T  F  meat  the  Gods  give,  I  the  steame 
High-towring  wil  devote  to  them  : 
Whose  easie  natures  like  it  well, 
If  we  the  roste  have,  they  the  smell. 

Upon  Julia's  Voice. 
CO  smooth,  so  sweet,  so  silv'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.1 

1  Amber  was  used  to  adorn  musical  instruments :   here  used  by 
stress  of  rhyme. 


38  HESPERIDES. 


Againe. 

Vy  HEN  I  thy  singing  next  shall  heare, 
He  wish  I  might  turne  all  to  eare,2 
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  :3 
I  meane  (the  Soveraigne  of  all  Plants)  the  Oke 
Droops,  dies,  and  falls  without  the  cleavers  stroke. 

T7ie  succession  ofthefoure  sweet  months. 
pIRST,  April,  she  with  mellow  showrs 

Opens  the  way  for  early  flowers  ; 
Then  after  her  comes  smiling  May, 
In  a  more  rich  and  sweet  aray ; 

3  Cf.  Milton  "  all  ear  to  hear  "  (P.  L.  IV.  1.  410). 

3  Cf.  Keats,  "  those  green-robed  senators  of  mighty  woods." 


HESPERIDES.  39 

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.     Ta  a  friend. 
T^HOU  sail'st  with  others  in  this  Argus  here ; 

Nor  wrack  or  Bulging*  thou  hast  cause  to  feare  : 
But  trust  to  this,  my  noble  passenger ; 
Who  swims  with  Vertue,  he  shall  still  be  sure 
( #7jw«-like)  all  tempests  to  endure ; 
And  'midst  a  thousand  gulfs  to  be  secure. 

Upon  his  Sister-in-Law,  Mistresse 

Elizab :  Herrick. 
"pIRST,  for  Effusions5  due  unto  the  dead, 

My  solemne  Vowes  have  here  accomplished  : 
Next,  how  I  love  thee,  that  my  griefe  must  tell, 
Wherein  thou  liv'st  for  ever.     Deare  farewell. 

Of  Love.     A  Sonet. 
TLJ  OW  Love  came  in,  I  do  not  know, 
Whether  by  th'  eye,  or  eare,  or  no  ; 

4  Originally  bilging,  from  bilge  or  the  lower  part  of  a  ship,  where 
it  swells  out.  *   =  outpourings. 


40  HESPERWES. 


Or  whether  with  the  soule  it  came 
(At  first)  infused  with  the  same  ; 
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.6 

A  H  my  Anthea  /  Must  my  heart  still  break  ? 
(Love  makes  me  write,  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. 
Treble  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. 

6  Imitation  of  Catullus  in  the  first  eight  lines. 


HESPERIDES.  41 


The  Rock  of  Rubies :  and 

The  quarrie  of  Pear  Is  ? 
COME  ask'd  me  where  the  Rubies  grew? 

And  nothing  I  did  say  : 
But  with  my  finger  pointed  to 

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  Quarelets8  of  Pearl. 

Conformitie. 
CONFORMITY  was  ever  knowne 

A  foe  to  Dissolution  : 
Nor  can  we  that  a  ruine  call, 
Whose  crack  gives  crushing  unto  all. 

TO  THE  KING,  Upon  his  comming  with  his 

Army  into  the  West.9 

Y\f  ELCOME,  most  welcome  to  our  Vowes  and  us, 
Most  great,  and  universall  Genius  I 

1  Cf.  '  The  Rosarie '  before. 

8  A  'quarrel'  is  anything  squared,  glass,  stone,  tile,  &c.     (Fr : 
Quarreau,  verb  quarrer,  to  square).      A   stone-quarry  in   various 
English  counties  is  called  a  '  quarrel.' 

9  The  King  pursued  Essex  into  Cornwall  in  August,  1644,  where 
he  forced  him  to  capitulate — a  brief  success  in  abounding  disaster. 


42  HESPERIDES. 


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 l  in  each  bosome  springs 
By  your  accesse  ;  (O  you  the  best  of  Kings  !) 
Ride  on  with  all  white2  Omens  ;  so  that  where, 
Your  Standard's  up,  we  fix  a  Conquest  there. 

Upon  Roses. 
T  J  NDER  a  Lawne,  then  skyes  more  cleare, 

Some  ruffled  Roses  nestling  were  : 
And  snugging3  there,  they  seem'd  to  lye 
As  in  a  flowrie  Nunnery  : 

They  blush'd,  and  look'd  more  fresh  then  flowers  [than 
Quickned  of  late  by  Pearly  showers  ; 
And  all,  because  they  were  possest 
But  of  the  heat  of  Julids  breast : 
Which  as  a  warme,  and  moistned  spring, 
Gave  them  their  ever  flourishing. 

1  See  Glossarial  Index,  s.  v. 

2  =  auspicious.  See  Glossarial  Index,  s.  v. 

3  Snug — to  lie  close,  to  snudge. 


HESPERIDES.  43 


To  the  King  and  Queene,  upon  their 

unhappy  distances.^ 
Vy  OE,  woe  to  them,  who  (by  a  ball  of  strife) 

Doe,  and  have  parted  here  a  Man  and  Wife : 
CHARLS  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  Okef  here  ;  C.  and  M.  shall  meet, 
Treading  on  Amber,  with  their  silver-feet : 
Nor  wiPt  be  long,  ere  this  accomplish'd  be  ; 
The  words  found  true,  C.  M.  remember  me. 

Dangers  wait  on  Kings. 
A  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, 

4  The  Queen's  absence  from  England  is  doubtless  merely  intended, 
but  there  were  rumours  of  domestic  strife  and  consequent  coldness,  or 
*  distances.'  6  =the  oracular  tree,  as  the  oaks  of  Dodona. 

f>  Anacreon  :  Ode  3  imitated. 


44  HESPERIDES. 


Came  one  unto  my  gate, 
And  knocking,  me  molested. 

Who's  that  (said  I)  beats  there, 
And  troubles  thus  the  Sleepie  ? 

Cast  off  (said  he)  all  feare, 
And  let  not  Locks  thus  keep  ye. 

For  I  a  Boy  am,  who 

By  Moonlesse  nights7  have  swerved  ;8 
And  all  with  showrs  wet  through, 

And  e'en  with  cold  half  starved. 

I  pittifull  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) 

7  "  In  the  hush  of  moonless  nights,"  Tennyson. 
s  =  strayed  or  roved. 


HESPERIDES.  45 


And  chafd  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. 
HTHAT  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,  (as  justments*  to  the  dead) 

9  From  the  Latin  justa,  funeral  obsequies :    query — a  coinage  of 
Herrick  ? 


46  HESPERIDES. 


Forgive,  forgive  me ;  since  I  did  not  know 

Whether  thy  bones  had  here  their  Rest,  or  no.1 

But  now  'tis  known,  Behold ;  behold,  I  bring 

Unto  thy  Ghost  th'  Effused  Offering  : 

And  look,  what  Smallage,2  Night-shade,  Cypresse,  Yew, 

Unto  the  shades  have  been,  or  now  are  due, 

Here  I  devote  ;3  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  j 

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  erring4  Lace,  which  here  and  there 
Enthralls  the  Crimson  Stomacher  : 

1  Herrick  was  a  baby  of  a  year  old  only  when  his  father  died  ;  but 
on  this  somewhat  enigmatical  celebration  of  him  see  our  Memorial - 
Introduction.  Line  2nd  'seven  Lusters  Ms  =  35  years,  i.  e.  1626  for 
date  of  composition. 

'2  Herb.     See  Glossarial  Index,  s.  v.       3  =  dedicate  or  consecrate. 

4  =  wandering. 


HESPERIDES.  47 

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  :6 

Doe  more  bewitch  me,  then  when  Art        [than 

Is  too  precise  in  every  part. 

To  his  Muse. 
V\f  ERE  I  to  give  thee  Baptime*  I  wo'd  chuse 

To    Christen   thee,  the   Bride,   the  Bashfull 

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. 

Upon  Love. 

T  OVE  scorch'd  my  finger,  but  did  spare 
The  burning  of  my  heart  ; 

*  =good  manners,  easiness.  Milton  has  "  civil  -suited  morn." 
(II  Penseroso,  1.  122):  later  Dryden,  "the  sweet  civilities  of  life." 
See  Memorial-Introduction  for  Ben  Jonson's  song  in  The  Silent 
Woman,  "  Still  to  be  neat,  still  to  be  drest,"  &c. 

6  —  baptism.     Query :  from  the  French  Bapt&me  ? 


48  HESPERIDES. 


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. 

To  Dean-bourn,  a  rude  River  in  Devon  :  by 

which  sometimes  he  lived. 
"QEAN-BOURN,  farewell;  I  never  look  to  see 

Deane,  or  thy  watry  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  •  There  and  ever  knowne 
To  be  A  Rockie  Generation  ! 
A  people  currish  ;  churlish  as  the  seas  ; 
And  rude  (almost)  as  rudest  Salvages  :7 
With  whom  I  did,  and  may  re-sojourne  when 
Rockes  turn  to  Rivers,  Rivers  turn  to  Men. 


7    = 


savages  or  uncivilized. 


HESPERIDES.  49 


Kissing  Usurie. 
"QIANCHA,  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  : 

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. 

He  must  of  right, 

To  th'utmost  mite, 
Make  payment  for  his  pleasure  ;8 

By  this,  I  guesse, 

Of  happinesse 
Who  has  a  little  measure. 


8  By  Hazlitt  and  others  the  commencement  is  put  first  in  this 
stanza.  Dr.  Nott  annotates — These  lines  breathe  of  Catullus  and 
Secundus.  See  of  the  former  Carmen  5  ;  and  of  the  latter  Basiam  6. 


50  HESPERIDES. 


To  Julia. 
T_T  OW  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 9  is  bound, 
Made  of  the  Rubie,  Pearle,  and  Diamond: 
A  golden  ring,  that  shines  upon  thy  thumb  : * 
About  thy  wrist,  the  rich  Dardamum? 
Between  thy  Breasts  (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  Topaze,  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  : 

Which  being  seen, 
Blest  with  perpetuall  greene, 

9    =  chain  for  the  neck,  as  before. 

1  Rings  used  to  be,  oddly  enough,  worn  on  the  thumb. 

2  A  Bracelet,  from  Dardanus  so  calPd.     H. 


HESPERIDES.  51 


May  grow  to  be 
Not  so  much  call'd  a  tree, 
As  the  eternall  monument  of  me. 

His  Cavalier. 
C*  I VE  me  that  man,  that  dares  bestride 

The  active  sea-horse,  &  with  pride, 
Through  that  huge  field  of  waters  ride  :3 

Who,  with  his  looks  too,  can  appease 
The  ruffling  winds  and  raging  Seas, 
In  mid'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. 
A  BOUT  the  sweet  bag  of  a  Bee, 
Two  Cupids  fell  at  odds ; 

3  Cf.  Byron  of  the  Sea  in  close  of  Childe  Harrtf  vi : — 
"  I  was  as  it  were  a  child  of  thee, 
And  trusted  to  thy  billows  far  and  near, 
And  laid  my  hands  upon  thy  mane." 


52  HESPERIDES. 


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  flame ; 
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.4 

Love  kilVd  by  Lack. 

T   ET  me  be  warme ;  let  me  be  fully  fed  : 
Luxurious  Love  by  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  :5 
Next,  let  us  marry  : 

4  This  little  elegant  composition  is  likewise  found  in  a  collection 
of  poetry  entitled,  Wit  a  sporting  in  a  Pleasant  Grove  ofneu>  Fancies, 
by  H.  B.  1657.  N- 

6  No  chronicle  affords  us  any  satisfactory  information  respecting 
the  rites  of  Saint  Valentine,  a  Roman  bishop  beheaded  under  the 


HESPERIDES.  53 


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  Reader. 
C  EE,  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.6 

emperor  Claudius,  whose  festival  is  observed  on  the  i4th  of  February. 
There  is  a  rural  tradition,  that  about  this  period  birds  chuse  their 
mates  ;  and  it  is  a  very  ancient  custom,  on  the  day  of  the  festival, 
for  young  people,  particularly  among  the  lower  orders,  to  select  Val 
entines,  or  sweethearts,  by  drawing  of  lots.  N.  See  Brand  s.  n. 
Chaucer  and  Lydgate  celebrate  the  festival. 

"  Quandoque  bonus  dormitat  Homerus.      Horace :    Art.    Poet., 
!•  359- 


54  HESPERIDES. 


To  Criticks. 
T  LE  write,  because  He  give 

You  Criticks  means  to  live  : 
For  sho'd  I  not  supply 
The  Cause,  th'effect  wo'd  die. 

Duty  to  Tyrants. 
C*  OOD  princes  must  be  pray'd  for  :  for  the  bad 

They  must  be  borne  with,  and  in  rev'rence  had. 
Doe  they  first  pill7  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. 
"\^7"HEN  age  or  Chance  has  made  me  blind, 

So  that  the  path  I  cannot  find  : 
And  when  my  falls  and  stumblings  are 
More  then  the  stones  i'th'  street  by  farre  : 
Goe  thou  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. 

7   =  strip  or  peel :  hence  to  spoil,  to  take  away. 


HESPERIDES.  55 


Upon  Blanch. 
"DLANCH  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  therds  little. 
'T'O  Bread  and  Water  none  is  poore  ; 

And  having  these,  what  need  of  more  ? 
Though  much  from  out  the  Cess8  be  spent, 
Nature  with  little  is  content. 

Barly-Break :  or,  Last  in  Hell? 
AX7E  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. 
"DEAUTY,  no  other  thing  is,  then  a  Beame 
Flasht  out  between  the  Middle  and  Extreame. 

*  =the  count  or  accompt,  t.  e.  the  (total  of  the)  income. 
'  A  country  game,  celebrated  finely  by  Sidney  :    Poems  in  Fuller 
Worthies'  Library,  ii.  36  et  seq. 

E 


56  HESPERIDES. 


To  Dianeme. 
"QEARE,  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'thTieight, 
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. 

To  Anthea  lying  in  bed. 
CO  looks  Anthea,  when  in  bed  she  lyes, 
Orecome,  or  halfe  betray'd  by  Tiffanies 

1   =fine  silk  or  gauze,  as  before. 


HESPERIDES.  57 


Like  to  a  Twi-light,  or  that  simpring  2  Dawn, 
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. 
TV/T ORE  white  then  whitest  Lillies  far, 

Or  Snow,  or  whitest  Swans  you  are  : 
More  white  then  are  the  whitest  Creames,      [than 
Or  Moone-light  tinselling  the  streames  : 
More  white  then  Pearls,  or  Junds  thigh ; 
Or  Pelops  Arme  of  Yvorie. 
True,  I  confesse ;  such  Whites  as  these 
May  me  delight,  not  fully  please  : 
Till,  like  Ixioris  cloud 3  you  be 
White,  warme,  and  soft  to  lye  with  me. 

A  Country-life :  to  his  Brother, 

M.  Tho :  Herrick.4 
HTHRICE,  and  above,  blest  (my  soules  halfe)  art 

thou, 
In  thy  both  Last,  and  Better  Vow : 

5  =  pleasant — as  a  smile  :  deteriorated  since. 
*  =the  cloud  in  which  Juno  lay  with  him. 
4  See  Memorial-Introduction  on  this  brother. 


58    ,  HESPERIDES. 


Could'st  leave  the  City,  for  exchange,  to  see 

The  Countries  sweet  simplicity  : 
And  it  to  know,  and  practice ;  with  intent 

To  grow  the  sooner  innocent : 
By  studying  to  know  vertue ;  and  to  aime 

More  at  her  nature,  then  her  name  :  \than 

The  last  is  but  the  least ;  the  first  doth  tell 

J    ay—  *" ^ 

Wayes  lesse  to  live,  then  to  live  well  : 
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,5 

In  the  contented  mind,  not  mint. 
And  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,6  then  Land) 

*   =  quantity.  6   =  cash :  a  vulgarism  since. 


HESPERIDES.  59 


To  keep  cheap  Nature  even,  and  upright ; 

To  coole,  not  cocker 7  Appetite. 
Thus  thou  canst  tearcely 8  live  to  satisfie 

The  belly  chiefly  j  not  the  ejej 
Keeping  the  barking  stomach  wisely  quiet, 

Lesse  with  a  neat,9  then  needfull  diet.        [than 
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  beautifull,  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  : l 
The  Purling  springs,  groves,  birds,  and  well-weav^d 
Bowrs,  -3 

With  fields  enameled  with  flowers, 


7   =  pamper.  8   =  cleanly.  '   =  elegant. 

1  Intentionally  a  syllable  short,  as  in  others  following. 


60  HESPERIDES. 


Present  their  shapes  ;  while  fantasie  discloses 

Millions  of  Littles  mixt  with  Roses. 
Then  dream,  ye  heare  the  Lamb  by  many  a  bleat 

Woo'd  to  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  Chantidere 
Warnes  the  last  Watch  ;  but  with  the  Dawne  dost  rise 

To.  work,  but  first  to  sacrifice  j 
Making  thy  peace  with  heav'n,  for  some  late  fault, 

With  Holy-meale,  and  spirting-salt.2 
Which  done,  thy  painfull  Thumb3  this  sentence  tells  us, 

Jove  for  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,  anofbeleeVstjthat  there  be  seas, 

-  Folk-lore.     But  cf.  Leviticus  c.  iL         3  Ibid,  but  cf.  S.  Mark 
s.  49, 


HESPERIDES.  61 


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  waWd  with  Oke,  and  brasse,  that  man 

Had,  first,  diirst  plow  the  Ocean  * 
I  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  Compasse  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)     \than 
Fame  tell  of  States,  of  Countries,  Courts,  and  Kings ; 

Andf  beleevel there  be  sijch  things  :  j 

r~       .^~~~^1     '"  — 

WEenoTtnese  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 ;  and  thy  face  ne'r  shewes 

Fortune  when  she  comes,  or  goes. 

4  Horace :  Illi  robur,  &c.,  Odes  i.  3. 

6  See  previous  note  on  a  lacking  syllable. 


62  HESPERWES. 


But  with  thy  equall  thoughts,  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  etfry  way  lies  square^ 
And  like  a  surly  Oke  with  storms  perplext ; 

Growes  still  the  stronger,  strongly  vext. 
Be  so,  bold  spirit  j  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:  7 
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  eate 

These,  and  sowre  herbs,  as  dainty  meat  ? 

6  Tennyson  :  "  four-square  to  all  the  winds  that  blow."     Origi 
nally  quoted  by  Aristotle  (Ethics  i.  n,  and  Rhetoric  iii.  n,  2)  from 
Simonides  :  traced  back  to  Pythagoras. 

7  =  Household  god  or  house  itself.     '  Lara '  was  a  later  mythical 
coinage  to  account  for  the  existence  of  the  Lar.     See  Glossarial  Index 


HESPERIDES.  63 


While  soft  Opinion  makes  thy  Genius,  say, 

Content  makes  all  Ambrosia. 
Nor  is  it,  that  thou  keep'st  this  stricter  size  8 

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 

Of  singing  Crickits  by  thy  fire  : 
And  the  brisk  Mouse  may  feast  her  selfe  with  crums, 

Till  that  the  green-e/d  Kitling  comes. 
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  ; 9  and  knowne  to  few. 

8  —  assize.  '  "  To  thine  own  self  be  true  "  (Hamlet  i.  3). 


64  HESPERIDES. 

Thus  let  thy  Rurall  Sanctuary  be 

Elizium  to  thy  wife  and  thee ; 
There  to  disport  your  selves  with  goj^enjneasure  : 

For  seldome1  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.2 
Till  when,  in  such  assurance  live,  ye  may 

Nor  feare,  or  wish  your  dying  day. 


Divination  by  a  Daffadill. 
HEN  a  Daffadill  I  see, 

Hanging  down  his  head  t'wards  me ; 
Guesse  I  may,  what  I  must  be : 
First,  I  shall  decline  my  head  ; 
Secondly,  I  shall  be  dead ; 
Lastly,  safely  buryed. 


1  =  unfrequent. 

2  "  We  two  will  die  the  self-same  day."  Tennyson. 


HESPERIDES.  65 


To  the  Painter,  to  draw  him  a  Picture. 
/^OME,  skilfull  Lup<P,  now,  and  take 

Thy  Bice,4  thy  Vmber?  Pink,  and  Lake;* 
And  let  it  be  thy  Pensils  strife, 
To  paint  a  Bridgeman  7  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  j  place 
A  Burling  8  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. 


3  Martial  ?     4  A  painting  colour,  either  green  or  blue.  Bailey  s.  v. 
5  A  dark  and  yellowish  colour,  so  called  from  umbra,  a  shadow. 
c  A  darker  colour  and  not  so  rich  as  carmine — further  removed 
from  vermilion  than  carmine. 

7  Query — a  real  name  of  some  (now  forgotten)  parishioner?    It  is 
a  Devonshire  name,  usually  misprinted  here  '  bridgeman.' 

8  =  pincers  or  nippers. 


66  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  Cuffe.     Epig. 
C*  UFFE  comes  to  church  much ;  but  he  keeps 

his  bed 

Those  Sundayes  onely,  whenas  Briefs  9  are  read. 
This  makes  Cuffe  dull ;  and  troubles  him  the  most, 
Because  he  cannot  sleep  i'th'  Church,  free-cost. 

Upon  Fone  a  School-master.     Epig. 
"p  ONE  sayes,  those  mighty  whiskers  he  do's  weare 

Are  twigs  of  Birch,  and  willow,  growing  there  : 
If  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. 
Vy  HILE  the  milder  Fates  consent, 

Let's  enjoy  our  merryment : 
Drink,  and  dance,  and  pipe,  and  play ; 
Kisse  our  Dollies 1  night  and  day  : 
Crown'd  with  clusters  of  the  Vine  ; 
Let  us  sit,  and  quaffe  our  wine. 

9  =  letters -patent  or  licence  for  a  collection  for  some  charitable 
object. 

1  =  sweet-hearts :  deteriorated  to  prostitutes  provincially,  albeit  a 
'  dolly-mop '  is  still  distinct  from  the  open  prostitute.  Burns  uses  it 
in  his  "  Jolly  Beggars,"  under  the  form  of  '  doxy,' 

"  His  doxy  lay  within  his  arm"  (1.  18). 


HESPER1DES.  67 


Call  on  Bacchus  ;  chaunt  his  praise  ; 
Shake  the  T/tyrse,  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  2  and  Gotiere* 
Never  sing,  or  play  more  here. 

To  the  Earle  of  Westmerland* 
AX7HEN  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  5  up  by  you,  (Brave  Earle  of  Westmerland.) 

3  A  celebrated  composer  and  musician.  See  Memorial-Introduction. 

3  In  the  errata  this  is  corrected  from  '  Goteire »  to  Gotiere ' :  query 
— guitar?     (See  Glossarial  Index,  s.  v.)     Certainly  no  composer  of 
the  name  is  known,  albeit  spelling  his  name  Goutire,  Dr.  Nott  de 
scribes  him  as  "  a  celebrated  musical  composer  and  lutanist,  much 
in  favour  with  Charles  the  First."     Probably  in  its  variants  it  is  the 
French  form  of  Walter.     A  friend  informs  me  '  Cutierrer '  is  a  com 
mon  Spanish  name. 

4  This  was  Mildmay  Fane,  second  Earl  of  Westmoreland.     He 
succeeded  to  the  title  on  the  death  of  his  father,  on   23rd   March, 
1628-9  >  was  twice  married  :  died  I2th  Feb.,  1665-6,  and  was  buried 
at  Apthorpe  co.,  Northampton.     He  was  a  Poet — as  noticed  onward. 

'   =  propped. 


68  HESPERDIES. 


Against  Love. 
V\7"HEN  ere  my  heart,  Love's  warmth,  but  enter- 

taines, 

O  Frost !  O  Snow !  O  Haile  !  forbid  the  Banes.6 
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 ;  [than 

Or  let  me  'gender  with  eternall  frost. 

Upon  Julia's  Riband. 

AS  shews  the  Aire,  when  with  a  Rain-bow  grac'd ; 
So  smiles  that  Riband  'bout  my  Julia's  waste  :  7 

Or  like Nay  'tis  that  Zonulet*  of  love, 

Wherein  all  pleasures  of  the  world  are  wove. 

The  frozen  Zone :  or,  Julia  disdainfull. 
^HITHER?  Say,  whither  shall  I  fly, 

To  slack  these  flames  wherein  I  frie  ?  9 
To  the  Treasures,  shall  I  goe, 
Of  the  Raine,  Frost,  Haile,  and  Snow  ? 

6  =bans. 

7  =  waist.    See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v.         8  Diminutive  of  zone. 
9  Often  used  as  Herrick  does  by  Crashaw  :  deteriorated  since. 


HESPERIDES.  69 


Shall  I  search  the  under-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  breast :  where  dwels 

Such  destructive  Ysicles ; 
As  that  the  Congelation  will 
Me  sooner  starve,  then  those  can  kill. 

An  Epitaph  upon  a  sober  Matron. 
AlflTH  blamelesse  carriage,  I  livM  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  Moones  before  she  dy'd. 
My  modest  wedlock,  that  was  known 
Contented  with  the  bed  of  one. 


yo  HESPERIDES. 


To  the  Patron  of  Poets,  M.  End  :  Porter.1 
T   ET  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 
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  Baies  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. 
T   ILLIES  will  languish  ;  Violets  look  ill ; 

'  Sickly  the  Prim-rose  ;  Pale  the  Daffadill  : 
That  gallant  Tulip  will  hang  down  his  head, 
Like  to  a  Virgin  newly  ravished. 
Pansies  will  weep  ;  and  Marygolds  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. 

1  One  of  the  Wits  of  the  period,  but  more  famous  for  the  many 
verse  and  prose  tributes  paid  him  by  contemporaries.  He  seems  to 
have  been  a  kind  of  more  prudent  Benlowes,  though  not  like  him,  a 
poet.  See  Memorial-Introduction. 


H  ESP  BRIDES.  71 

Leanders  Obsequies. 

~V\T HEN  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. 
Sighs  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. 

Hope  heartens. 

VT  ONE  goes  to  warfare,  but  with  this  intent ; 
The  gaines  must  dead  the  feare  of  detriment. 

Foure  things  make  us  happy  here. 
LJ  EALTH  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.2 

2  From  a  Greek  Scolion,  doubtfully  ascribed  to  Simonides  :  cf. 
Fragments,  &c. 

F 


72  HESPERIDES. 


His  parting  from  Mrs.  Dorothy  Keneday.3 
EN  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,  whenas  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.4 
i.  /^LIDE,  gentle  streams,  and  beare 
Along  with  you  my  teare 
To  that  coy  Girle ; 
Who  smiles,  yet  slayes 
Me  with  delayes ; 
And  strings  my  tears  as  Pearle. 

3  See  Memorial-Introduction  on  this  friend. 

4  See  Memorial-Introduction  :  =  Stains,  the  royal  residence. 


HESPERIDES. 


2.  See  !  see,  she's  yonder  set, 
Making  a  Carkanet 

Of  Maiden-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  He  devise, 
(Among  the  rest) 
A  way  that's  best 

How  I  may  save  mine  eyes. 

5.  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. 


74  HESPERIDES. 


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. 

Upon  one  Lillie,  who  marryed  with  a  maid 

calVd  Rose. 

AA/'HAT  times  of  sweetnesse  this  faire  day  fore 
shows, 

Whenas  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. 
y  IB-GINS  promis'd  when  I  dy'd, 

That  they  wo'd  each  Primrose-tide, 
Duely,  Morne  and  Ev'ning,  come, 
And  with  flowers  dresse  my  Tomb. 
Having  promis'd,  pay  your  debts, 
Maids,  and  here  strew  Violets. 


HESPERIDES.  75 


Upon  Scobble.     Epig. 
C  COBBLE 5  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. 
"T*HAT  Houre-glasse,  which  there  ye  see 

With  Water  fill'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. 


5  This  is  a  Devonshire  name — Scobell.  In  the  Dean  Priory  Reg 
ister  we  read :  Jeffery  Scobble  th'  elder  buried  the  fifth  day  of  Feb 
ruary,  1654:  he  had  a  son  named  Ellis  baptized  in  1632.  See 
Memorial-Introduction  on  Devonshire  names  introduced  by  Herrick 
in  his  Epigrams. 


76  HESPERIDES. 


His  Fare-well  to  Sack. 
T^AREWELL  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  [than 

To  quick  [our]  action,6  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  Maiden-head  : 
These,  and  a  thousand  sweets,  co'd  never  be 
So  neare,  or  deare,  as  thou  w^st^xnce_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 7  portents 
Fore-tell  the  comming  of  some  dire  events  : 
Or  some  full  flame,  which  with  a  pride  aspires, 
Throwing  about  his  wild,  and  active  fires. 

fi  The  meaning  is  that  sack  is  to  the  male  life  to  quick,  i.  e.  make 
lively  his  action — to  the  bride  it  is  life  to  make  quick  or  give  life  to 
'  her  soft  side.'  Hence  a  distinctive  pronoun  is  required,  and  I  ven 
ture  to  fill  in  '  our.'  These  early  Poets  allowed  themselves  licence  of 
speech  on  things  about  which  silence  had  been  golden. 

'7  = shaggy,  hairy- 


HESPERIDES.  77 


Tis  thou,  'bove  8  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,9 

Work'st  more  then  Wisdome,  Art,  or  Nature  can,   [than 

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, 

Ptuzbean  splendour  !  and  thou  Thespian  spring  ! 

Of  which,  sweet  Swans  must  drink,  before  they  sing 

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  ? 


8  I  print  'bove  for  '  above.' 

9  =the  mystica  vannus  lacchi  of  the  ist  Georgic. 

1  Used  for  caskets ;  or  the  oil  used  to  preserve  MSS.  See  Glossarial 
Index. 


78  HESPERIDES. 


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  powerfull  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 
Faile  of  thy  former  helps  \  and  onely  use 
Her  inadult'rate  strength  :  what's  done  by  me 
Hereafter,  shall  smell  of  the  Lamp,2  not  thee. 

Upon  Glasco.     Epig. 

C*  LA  SCO  had  none,  but  now  some  teeth  has  got ; 
Which  though  they  furre,3  will  neither  ake.  or 
rot. 


2  The  classical  common-place. 

3  =grow  foul.     Cf.  Martiall  frequenter. 


HESPERIDES.  79 

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.4 
C  WEET  Amarillis,  by  a  Spring's 

Soft  and  soule-melting  murmurings, 
Slept ;  and  thus  sleeping,  thither  flew 
A  Robin-red-brest ;  who  at  view, 
Not  seeing  her  at  all  to  stir, 
Brought  leaves  and  mosse  to  cover  her  : 
But  while  he,  perking,5  there  did  prie 
About  the  Arch  of  either  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. 


4  The  lady  complimented  in  this  poem  was  probably  a  relation  by 
marriage.  Herrick's  first  cousin,  Martha,  the  seventh  .daughter  of 
his  uncle  Robert,  married  Mr.  John  Wheeler.  N.  See  Memorial- 
Introduction  and  onward.  *  =to  hold,  or  toss  up  the  head,  pertly. 


8o  HESPERIDES. 


The  Custard. 

17  OR  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  co'd  eate  it,  'cause  it  stunk  so  much. 

To  Myrrha  hard-hearted. 
pOLD  now  thine  armes;  and  hang  the  head, 

Like  to  a  Lillie  withered  : 
Next,  look  thou  like  a  sickly  Moone ; 
Or  like  Jocasta  in  a  swoone.6 
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. 

0  Probably  some  (forgotten)  Play  is  referred  to. 


HESPERIDES.  81 

The  Eye. 
]Y/T  AKE  me  a  heaven  ;  and  make  me  there 

Many  a  lesse  and  greater  spheare. 
Make  me  the  straight,  and  oblique  lines  ; 
The  Motions,  Lations,7  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  Chainlets8  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  Corinncts  eye  ? 

Upon  the  much  lamented,  Mr.  J.  Warr.9 

Wisdome,  Learning,  Wit,  or  Worth, 
Youth,  or  sweet  Nature,  co'd  bring  forth, 


7  In  full — translations,  or  local  motions. 

8  =  camlet :  originally  made  of  camel's  hair  and  silk  :  camelot. 

9  Not  known. 


82  HESPERWES. 


Rests  here  with  him  ;  who  was  the  Fame, 
The  Volumne  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. 
C^RYLL  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 

The  suspition  upon  his  over-much  familiarity 
with  a  Gentlewoman. 

AND  must  we  part,  because  some  say, 

Loud  is  our  love,  and  loose  our  play, 
And  more  then  well  becomes  the  day  ?  [than 

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, 


HESPER1DES.  83 


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  [than 

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  sprightfull  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  shining  in  her  perfect  Noone ; 

In  all  that  great  and  glorious  light, 

Continues  cold,  as  is  the  night. 

Then,  beauteous  Maid,  you  may  retire ; 

And  as  for  me,  my  chast  desire 

Shall  move  t'wards  you  ;  although  I  see 

Your  face  no  more  :  So  live  you  free 

From  Fames  black  lips,  as  you  from  me. 


84  HESPERIDES. 


Single  life  most  secure. 
CUSPICION,  Discontent,  and  Strife, 
Come  in  for  Dowrie  with  a  Wife. 


The  Curse.     A  Song. 
C*  OE,  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  colour,  forme  and  trust 
Of  Womans  beauty  ?  and  with  hand  more  rude 
Rifle  the  Flowers  which  the  Virgins  strew'd  : 
Know,  I  have  pra/d  to  Furie,  that  some  wind 
May  blow  my  ashes  up,  and  strike  thee  blind. 

The  wounded  Cupid.     Song.1 
C*  UPID  as  he  lay  among 

Hoses,  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, 

1  Imitation  of  Anacreon  :  Od.  40. 


HESPERIDES.  85 


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  woundest  with  thy  Dart ! 

To  Dewes.     A  Song. 
T  BURN,  I  burn  ;  and  beg  of  you 

To  quench,  or  coole  me  with  your  Dew. 
I  frie  2  in  fire,  and  so  consume, 
Although  the  Bile  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. 


See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


86  HESPERIDES. 


Some  comfort  in  calamity. 
'T'O  conquer'd  men,  some  comfort  'tis  to  fall 
By  th'hand  of  him  who  is  the  Generall. 

The  Vision. 
CITTING  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  glorious  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 
Dangled  the  ringlets  of  her  haire. 
Her  legs  were  such  Diana  shows, 
When  tuckt  up  3  she  a-hunting  goes  ; 
With  Buskins  shortned  to  descrie 
The  happy  dawning  of  her  thigh  : 
Which  when  I  saw,  I  made  accesse 
To  kisse  that  tempting  nakednesse  : 

-1  Cf.  Hymn  to  Ceres  (erroneously)  ascribed  to  Homer,  176,  and 
Catullus  Nupt.  Pel.  et  Thet.,  128. 


HESPERIDES.  87 


But  she  forbad  me,  with  a  wand 
Of  Mirtle  she  had  in  her  hand  : 
And  chiding  me,  said,  Hence,  Remove, 
Herricky  thou  art  too  coorse  to  love. 

Lorn  me  little,  love  me  long. 
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, 
"pWAS  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. 
JN  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. 

G 


88  HESPERWES. 


Upon  the  Bishop  of  Lincolne's  Imprisonment.^ 
"M"  EVER  was  Day  so  over-sick  with  showres, 
But  that  it  had  some  intermitting  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. 
Never  did  Moone  so  ebbe,  or  seas  so  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 5  our  Firmament. 
Let  but  That  Mighty  Cesar  speak,  and  then, 
All  bolts,  all  barres,  all  gates  shall  cleave  j  as  when 
That  Earth-quake  shook  the  house,  and  gave  the  stout 
Apostles,  way  (unshackled)  to  goe  out.6 
This,  as  I  wish  for,  so  I  hope  to  see ; 
Though  you  (my  Lord)  have  been  unkind  to  me : 7 


1  This  '  imprisoned '  Bishop  was  the  Statesman-Bishop  Williams. 
He  was  elected  Bishop  of  Lincoln  3rd  Aug.,  1621,  and  consecrated 
i  ith  Nov :  translated  to  York  in  1641. 

5   =gild.  °  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  c.  xvi. 

2  See  Memorial-Introduction. 


HESPERIDES.  89 


To  wound  my  heart,  and  never  to  apply, 
(When  you  had  power)  the  meanest  remedy : 
Well ;  though  my  griefe  by  you  was  galPd,8  the  more  ; 
Yet  I  bring  Balme  and  Oile  to  heal  your  sore. 

Disswasions  from  Idlenesse. 
p  YNTHIUS  pluck  ye  by  the  eare, 

That  ye  may  good  doctrine  heare. 
Play  not  with  the  maiden-haire ; 9 
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  Slothfulls  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  doth  love.1 


8  *»  to  fret  or  rub.  9  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

1  Thus  the  great  master  of  Love's  art :  Cedit  amor  rebus ;  res  age, 
tutus  eris.  Ovid.  Remed.  Amor.  v.  1 5 1 .    N. 


90  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  Strut. 
CTRUT,  once  a  Fore-man  of  a  Shop  we  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? 

i. 
"M"  OW,  now's  the  time ;  so  oft  by  truth 

Promis'd  sho'd  come  to  crown  your  youth. 

Then  Faire  ones,  doe  not  wrong 

Your  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  redeem'd  by  cost. 
Then  away ;  come,  Hymen  guide 
To  the  bed,  the  bashfull  Bride. 

2  There  appears  to  have  been  two  Sir  Thomas  Southwells :  one 
settled  in  Ireland,  and  too  early  for  this  '  Epithalamie,'  The  other 
was  knighted  2ist  July,  1615,  and  died  in  1642.  His  relict,  Mary, 
administered  to  his  estate  i6th  December,  1642,  when  he  was  de 
scribed  as  of  Angleton,  in  Sussex  (  =  Hangleton,  near  Brighton). 
She  died  almost  immediately  after,  as  on  3oth  January  following, 


HESPERIDES.  91 


II. 

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. 

m. 

These  Precious-Pearly-Purling  3  teares, 
But  spring  from  ceremonious  feares. 

And  'tis  but  Native  shame, 

That  hides  the  loving  flame  : 

And  may  a  while  controule 

The  soft  and  am'rous  soule ; 

But  yet,  Loves  fire  will  wast 

Such  bashfulnesse  at  last. 
Then  away ;  come,  Hymen  guide 
To  the  bed,  the  bashfull  Bride. 

Sir  Matthew  Menes,  K.  B.,  administered  to  his  estate,  the  relict  Mary 
being  dead.    This  '  Epithalamie '  must  have  been  written  early. 
3  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


92  HESPERIDES. 


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. 

v. 

On,  on  devoutly,  make  no  stay ; 
While  Domiduca  4  leads  the  way  : 

And  Genius  who  attends 

The  bed  for  luckie  ends  : 5 

Withfuno  goes  the  houres, 

And  Graces  strewing  flowers. 

And  the  boyes  with  sweet  tune  sing, 

Hymen,  O  Hymen  bring 

4  A  coined  word,  I  presume,  for  the  paranympha  pronuba,  or  bride- 
maid  attending  the  bride.  N.     Dr.  Nott  is  mistaken:  it  is  one  of  the 
eight  nymphal  names  of  Juno.    Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Masque  of  Hymen, 
and  his  notes  thereon. 

5  =  the  power  that  begets,  the  lingam  deity. 


HESPERfDES.  93 


Home  the  Turtles ;  Hymen  guide 
To  the  bed,  the  bashfull  Bride. 

VI. 

Behold  !  how  Hymens  Taper-light 
Shews  you  how  much  is  spent  of  night. 

See,  see  the  Bride-grooms  Torch 

Halfe  wasted  in  the  porch. 

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.6 

VII. 

Move  forward  then  your  Rosie  feet, 

And  make,  what  ere  they  touch,  turn  sweet7 

6  Borne  by  the  Quinque  Cerei  in  Roman  marriages,  and  supposed 
by  some  to  represent  the  highest  number  of  births   at  one  time. 
Throughout  Herrick  combines  classical  customs  with  English,  even, 
when   speaking  of  home  festivities  and  evening  merriments  and 
drinking. 

7  "  The  meadows  your  walks  have  left  so  sweet," — Tennyson:  and 
again,  "Her  feet  have  touched  the  meadows  and  left  the  daisies 
rosy  "  (Maud).    Earlier  in  Herrick's  great  friend  : 

"  Where  she  went  the  flowers  took  thickest  root, 
As  she  had  sow'd  them  with  her  odorous  foot." 
(Sad  Shepherd  i.  i). 


94  HESPERIDES. 


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-dryers* 

Then  away ;  come  Hymen,  guide 

To  the  bed,  the  bashfull  Bride. 

VIII- 

And  now  the  yellow  Vaile,8  at  last, 
Over  her  fragrant  cheek  is  cast. 

Now  seems  she  to  expresse 

A  bashfull  willingnesse  :9 

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. 


8  Saffron,  the  colour  appropriated  to>  marriage,  and  in  which 
Hymen  is  always  supposed  to  be  dressed. 

9  Tardet  ingenuus  pudor :  Catullus.  Epithal.  Julie  et  Manlii. 

Transfer  oraine  cum  bono 

Limen  aureolos  pedes.     Idem.  N. 


HESPERIDES.  95 


IX. 

You,  you  that  be  of  her  neerest  kin, 
Now  o're  the  threshold  force  her  in.1 
But  to  avert  the  worst ; 
Let  her,  her  fillets  first 
Knit  to  the  posts2:  this  point 
Remembring,  to  anoint 
The  sides  :    for  'tis  a  charme 
Strong  against  future  harme  : 
And  the  evil  deads,  the  which 
There  was  hidden  by  the  Witch. 

x. 

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  forbears 
Her,  though  she  wooe  with  teares. 


1  The  wife  in  Roman  marriages  was  lifted  over  the  threshold,  for 
which  various  differing  reasons  were  alleged. 

3  A  custom  in  Roman  marriages,  as  is  the  anointing  with  its 
supposed  averting  power. 


96  HESPERIDES. 


Tel  them,  now  they  must  adventer, 
Since  that  Love  and  Night  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.3 

Nor  name  those  wanton  reaks4 

Y'ave  had  at  Early-breaks. 

3  St.  Valentine's  day,  Feb.  I4th — the  name  drawn  by  lot  thereon. 
See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v.  4  =  pranks. 


HESPERIDES.  97 


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.5 

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.6 

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, 

6  The  ceremony  of  throwing  nuts  at  a  wedding,  which  boys 
scrambled  for,  was  of  Athenian  origin.  Besides  Catullus,  Virgil 
and  many  other  classic  writers  mention  the  custom  ;  hence  nucibus 
relictis  became  proverbial,  for  the  renouncing  of  childhood.  See 
Persius,  Sat.  i.,  ver.  10.  N.  On  line  preceding  :  Claudite  ostia  vir- 
gines  :  Catullus,  as  before. 

*  Proverbs  xvii.  6. 


98  HESPERIDES. 


Pants  with  a  Downie  brest, 

As  with  a  heart  possest : 

Shrugging  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. 

O  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  7  come. 

Teach  Nature  now  to  know, 

Lips  can  make  Cherries  grow 
Sooner,  then  she,  ever  yet, 
In  her  wisdome  co'd  beget. 

XVI. 

On  your  minutes,  hours,  dayes,  months,  years, 
Drop  the  fat  blessing  of  the  sphears. 

That  good,  which  HeaVn  can  give 

To  make  you  bravely  live  ; 

7  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPERIDES.  99 


Fall,  like  a  spangling  dew,8 
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.9 
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. 


3  Cf.  "  The  benediction  of  these  covering  heavens 
Fall  on  your  heads  like  dew," 

(Cymb.,  v.  5, 11.  350-1 :  cf.  Henry  VIII.,  iv.  2,  1.  133. 
'  Cf.  Ben  Jonson's  Hue  and  Cry  after  Cupid : — 
[James  coming] 

"  That  was  reserved  until  the  Parcae  spun 
Their  whitest  wool ;  and  then  his  thread  begun." 


ioo  HESPERIDES. 


Teares  are  Tongues. 
V\7HEN  Julia  chid,  I  stood  as  mute  the  while, 

As  is  the  fish,  or  tonguelesse  Crocodile.1 
Aire  coyn'd  to  words,  my  Julia  co'd  not  heare ; 
But  she  co'd  see  each  eye  to  stamp  2  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.3 

[Epitaph]  Upon  a  young  mother  of  many  children. 
T   ET  all  chaste  Matrons,  when  they  chance  to  see 

My  num'rous  issue :  Praise,  and  pitty  me. 
Praise  me,  for  having  such  a  fruitfull  wombe  : 
Pity  me  too,  who  found  so  soone  a  Tomb. 

To  Electra. 
T  LE  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. 

1  Long  a  vulgar  error. 

2  =  Coin — there  being  a  parallelism  with  former  line. 

3  Cf.  Sidney  '  dumb  eloquence,'  and  Daniel  '  silent  rhetoric '  in 
Memorial-Introduction. 


HESPERIDES  101 


Thunder  and  Lightning  He  lay  by, 
To  talk  with  thee  familiarly. 
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  4  all  the  Fables  5  there. 

His  wish. 
T  T  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. 
"\TOONE-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  : 

4  =wear  out  or  exhaust.  6  i.  e.  told  of  Jove's  amours. 


102  HESPERIDES. 


Seas  shall  be  sandlesse ;  Fields  devoid  of  grasse  ; 
Shapelesse  the  world  (as  when  all  Chaos  was) 
Before,  my  deare  Perilla,  I  will  be 
False  to  my  vow,  or  fall  away  from  thee. 

Love  perfumes  all  parts. 
T  F  I  kisse  Anthea's  brest, 

There  I  smell  the  Phenix  nest : 
If  her  lip,  the  most  sincere  6 
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  :  7 
Nor  ca&Juno  sweeter  be, 
When  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. 

8  =  pure.  7  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPERIDES.  103 


On  himselfe. 
T  OVE-SICK  I  am,  and  must  endure 

A  desp'rate  grief,  that  finds  no  cure. 
Ah  me  !  I  try  ;  and  trying,  prove, 
No  Herbs  have  power  to  cure  Love. 
Only  one  Soveraign  salve,  I  know, 
And  that  is  Death,  the  end  of  Woe. 

Vertue  is  sensible  of  suffering. 
HP  HOUGH  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  8  do  pinch  him  ;  and  the  where. 

The  cruell  Maid. 
^ND,9  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 


*   =  loads.       9  Unusual  to  begin  with  'And.'     In  our  own  gene 
ration  Dibdin  starts  off  with  "  And  have  you  not  heard  of  a  jolly 
young  waterman,"  &c.     See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 
H 


104  HESPERIDES. 


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  bum 
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  : 
And  write  thereon,  This,  Reader,  know. 
Love  kilVd  this  man.1    No  more  but  so. 


1  Huic  misero  fatum  dura  puella  fuit.     Propertius  :  Eleg.  I.  Lib. 
2,  ver.  ult.  N. 


HESPERIDES.  105 


To  Dianeme. 

C  WEET,  be  not  proud  of  those  two  eyes, 
Which  Star-like  sparkle  in  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  : 
Whenas  that  Rubie,  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.2 

'T'O  find  that  Tree  of  Life,  whose  Fruits  did  feed, 

And  Leaves  did  heale,  all  sicke  of  humane  seed  : 
To  finde  Bethesda,  and  an  Angel  there, 
Stirring  the  waters,3  I  am  come ;  and  here, 
At  last,  I  find,  (after  my  much  to  doe) 
The  Tree,  Bethesda,  and  the  Angel  too  : 


3  Scrofula  being  '  the  King's  evil '  the  reference  is  to  scrofulous 
disease  of  the  joints  and  limbs.  See  line  8.  It  is  astonishing  and 
humiliating  how  long  this  superstitious  belief  in  the  royal  touch 
lingered.  Originally  it  held  a  noble  tradition.  3  St.  John,  c.  v. 


106  HESPERIDES. 


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. 
^yATER,  Water  I  espie  : 

Come,  and  coole  ye;  all  who  frie4 
In  your  loves ;  but  none  as  I. 

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. 

4  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPERIDES.  107 


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. 

Upon  Jollies  wife. 
,  Jollies  wife  is  lame ;  then  next,  loose-hipt : 

0B 

Squint  ey'd,  hook-nos'd ;  and  lastly,  Kidney-lipt. 

To  a  Gentlewoman  objecting  to  him 
his  gray  haires. 

A  M  I  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  sincere5  Christall  seek, 
But  find  no  Rose-bud  in  your  cheek : 
Nor  any  bed  to  give  the  shew 
Where  such  a  rare  Carnation  grew. 

fi  —truth-telling. 


io8  HESPERIDES. 


Ah  !  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  my  many  Poems,  I  can  see 

One,  onely,  worthy  to  be  washt  by  thee  :6 
I  live  for  ever ;  let  the  rest  all  lye 
In  dennes  of  Darkness,  or  condemn'd  to  die. 

Upon  Cupid. 
T  OVE,  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  youthfull  Prince  D 'Amour  here. 

r>  From  Horace 

"  carmina  fingi 

Posse  linenda  cedro. .  .  ."  (Epist.  ad  Pis.  332:  vi.  11.  331-2). 

Cf.  "  A  Dirge Bernard  Stuart,"  and  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

But  could  the  Bible-use  of  '  cedar  '  be  intended  ?  See  Leviticus  xiv. 
4 :  Num.  xix.  6. 


HESPERIDES.  109 


I  smil'd ;  and  bade  him  once  more  prove,7 
And  by  some  crosse-line  show  it ; 

That  I  co'd  ne'r  be  Prince  of  Love, 
Though  here  the  Princely  Poet8 

How  Primroses  came  green. 
"\71RGINS,  time-past,  known  were  these, 

Troubled  with  Green-sicknesses, 
Turn'd  to  flowers  :  Stil  the  hieu, 
Sickly  Girles,  they  beare  of  you. 

To  Jos :  Lo:  Bishop  ^  Exeter.9 
^Y\fHOM  sho'd  I  feare  to  write  to,  if  I  can 
Stand  before  you,  my  learn'd  Diocesanl 
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 

7  =try.  8  See  Memorial-Introduction. 

9  The  illustrious  and  venerable  Joseph  Hall:  born  1574:  died 
1656.  His  "Satires"  are  still  quick  as  well  as  his  "Medita 
tions  "  &c.  &c. 


no  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  a  black  Twist,  rounding  the  Arme  of 
the 


T  SAW  about  her  spotlesse  wrist, 

Of  blackest  silk,  a  curious  twist  ; 
Which,  circumvolving  gently,  there 
EnthralFd  her  Arme,  as  Prisoner. 
Dark  was  the  Jayle  \  but  as  if  light 
Had  met  t'engender  with  the  night  j 
Or  so,  as  Darknesse  made  a  stay 
To  shew  at  once,  both  night  and  day. 


1  This  was  most  probably  Margaret  3rd.  d.  of  Francis  Earl  of 
Bedford  and  lady  of  James  Hay,  the  2nd.  of  that  name  Earl  of  Car 
lisle;  who  succeeded  his  father  James  1636;  she  being  the  then 
Countess  at  the  time  Herrick  published  his  Hesperides.  Yet  might 
the  poet  have  written  his  Lines  on  the  Lady  Lucy,  2nd  wife  of  James, 
i  st  earl  of  Carlisle,  who  was  celebrated  for  her  wit  and  beauty, 
and  at  the  time  Herrick' s  book  came  out  must  have  been  about  the 
age  of  fifty ;  she  was  d.  of  Henry  Percy,  Qth  earl  of  Northumber 
land  :  her  character  is  found  drawn  up  at  the  head  of  A  Collection 
of  Letters  made  by  Sir  Tobie  Mathews,  Knight,  and  dedicated  to  her 
ladyship :  it  is  a  curious  and  now  rare  little  book,  printed  1660. 
Waller  wrote  many  elegant  verses  on  this  "  Bright  Carlisle  of  the 
court  of  heaven."  N.  The  latter  was  all  but  certainly  Herrick's 
Countess.  Davies  of  Hereford  places  her  among  his  "  Worthy 
Persons." 


HESPERIDES.  in 


One2  fancie  more  !  but  if  there  be 
Such  Freedome  in  Captivity  ; 
I  beg  of  Love,  that  ever  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  my  Beard 
With  Wine  and  Oile  besmear'd. 
This  day  He  drowne  all  sorrow ; 
Who  knowes  to  live  to  morrow?3 


Upon  Pagget. 
T>AGGET,  a  School-boy,  got  a  Sword,  and  then 

He  vow'd  Destruction  both  to  Birch,  and  Men : 
Who  wo'd  not  think  this  Yonker4  fierce  to  fight  ? 
Yet  comming  home,  but  somewhat  late,  (last  night) 
Untrusse,  his  Master  bade  him  ;  and  that  word 
Made  him  take  up  his  shirt,  lay  down  his  sword. 

2  Misprinted  "  I "  self-evidently  an  error  for  "  one  "  which  was 
probably  written  as  I  =  one  fancy  more. 

3  So  Mickle  in  the  well-known  Scottish  song : 

"  The  present  moment  is  our  ain 
The  neist  we  never  saw." 

4  =  Youngster,  youth. 


ii2  HESPERIDES. 


J 


A  Ring  presented  to  Julia. 
ULIA,  I  bring 

To  thee  this  Ring,5 
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 : 

5  Probably  a  geramal  ring. 


HESPERIDES.  113 


As  that  the  stay 
Of  either  may 
Create  the  burden  light. 

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. 

AIT  HERE  others  love,  and  praise  my  Verses  ;  still 
Thy  long-black-Thumb-nail  marks  'em  out 

for  ill  : 

A  fellon  take  it,  or  some  Whit-flaw6  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. 


6  =  Whit-low  :  a  swelling  at  end  of  finger  next  the  nail :  vulgarly 
whit-flow  or  flaw. 


ii4  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  the  same. 
T  ASK'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  covered  be ; 
Then  sure  thou't  like,  or  thou  wilt  envie  me. 

Julia's  Petticoat. 

'pHY  Azure  Robe,  I  did  behold, 
As  ayrie  as  the  leaves  of  gold  : 
Which  erring7  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't8  with  Stars,  it  shew;d  to  me 

Like  a  Celestiall  Canopie. 

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, 


:  blowing  aside  or  deviating. 

;  sprinkled  as  was  dust,  before  blotting-paper,  over  writing. 


H ESP BRIDES.  115 


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  scene  of  it  my  fill ; 
But  ah  !  I  co'd  not :  sho'd  it  move 
To  Life  Eternal,  I  co'd  love. 

To  Mustek. 
"DEGIN  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.  \than 

And  to  thy  selfe  be  best  this  sentence  knowne, 
Heare  all  men  speak;  but  credit  few  or  none. 


ii6  HESPERIDES. 


Corinna's  going  a  Maying? 

C*  ET  up,  get  up  for  shame,  the  Blooming  Morne 
Upon  her  wings  presents  the  god  unshorne.1 
See  how  Aurora  throwes  her  faire 
Fresh-quilted  colours2  through  the  aire  : 
Get  up,  sweet  Slug-a-bed,  and  see 
The  Dew  bespangling  Herbe  and  Tree. 

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  Hymnes  :  'tis  sin, 
Nay,  profanation  to  keep  in, 

Whenas  a  thousand  Virgins  on  this  day, 

Spring,  sooner  then  the  Lark,  to  fetch  in  May.       [than 

Rise ;  and  put  on  your  Foliage,  and  be  scene 

To  come  forth,  like  the  Spring-time,  fresh  and  greene ; 


9  See  Memorial-Introduction  for  parallels.  Dr.  Nott  annotates 
here  :  The  ceremony  of  going  a  Maying,  and  the  May  Festivities,  were 
once  of  great  notoriety  :  though  now  almost  in  disuse,  or  but  faintly 
shadowed  in  the  lower  orders  of  people:  they  were  observed  by 
royalty  even.  Stowe,  quoting  Hall,  gives  an  account  of  Henry  VIII's 
riding  a  Maying,  with  his  queen,  Catharine,  to  the  high  ground  on 
Shooter's  Hill,  accompanied  by  a  train  of  the  nobility. 

1  =  Apollo.     2  Cf.  Milton's  '  Nativity,'  1.  146,  '  tissued  clouds.' 


HESPER1DES.  117 


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  Beads3  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.4 

3  =  prayers. 

4  It  is  an  ancient  custom  in  Devon  and  Cornwall  to  deck  the 
porches  of  houses  with  boughs  of  sycamore  and  hawthorn  on  May 
day. 


n8  HESPERIDES. 


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  : 
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,5  ere  this,  is  come 

Back,  and  with  White-thorn  laden  home. 

Some  have  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  : 

Manyagreen-gown6  has  been  given  ; 

Many  a  kisse,  both  odde  and  even  : 

Many  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,7  yet  w'are  not  a  Maying. 

5  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

.£.  Giving  a  maid  a  green  gown  was,  in  its  purer  sense,  throwing 
her  on  the  grass  sportively. 

7  The  usual  rural  tricks  of  sweathearts,  with  (unhappily)  a  double 
meaning. 


HESPERIDES.  119 


Come,  let  us  goe,  while  we  are  in  our  prime ; 
And  take  the  harmlesse  follie  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.8 
Then  while  time  serves,  and  we  are  but  decaying ; 
Come,  my  Corinna,  come,  let's  goe  a  Maying. 

On  Julia's  breath. 
gREATHE,  Julia,  breathe,  and  Tie  protest, 

Nay  more,  Tie  deeply  sweare, 
That  all  the  Spices  of  the  East 
Are  circumfused9  there. 


8  This  concluding  stanza  is  in  the  same  spirit  with  Catullus's 
fifth  Carmen.  N.  9   =  shed  round  about. 


120  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  a  Child.     An  Epitaph. 
"RUT  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  Lydia, 
Translated*  Anno  1627,  and  set 

by  Mr.  Ro :  Ramsey.2 
Hor.  Vy  HILE,  Lydia,  I  was  lov'd  of  thee, 

Nor  any  was  preferr'd  'fore  me 
To  hug  thy  whitest  neck :  Then  I,  [than 

The  Persian  King  liv'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. 

1  Horace  :  Carm.  III.  9. 

*  The  name  of  this  Composer  is  not  found  in  any  of  the  musical 
authorities. 


HESP  BRIDES.  121 


Hor.  Now  Thracian  Cloe  governs  me, 
Skilfull  i'  th'  Harpe,  and  Melodic  : 
For  whose  affection,  Lydia,  I 
(So  Fate  spares  her)  am  well  content  to  die. 

Lyd.   My  heart  now  set  on  fire  is 

By  Ornithes  sonne,3  young  Calais ; 
For  whose  commutuall  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  again  love-cast-off  Lydia  ? 

Lyd.  Though  mine  be  brighter  then  the  Star ; 

Thou  lighter  then  the  Cork  by  far ;  [than 

Rough  as  th'  Adratick  sea,  yet  I 

Will  live  with  thee,  or  else  for  thee  will  die. 


The  captitfd  Bee:  or,  The  Little  Filcher. 
/V  S  Julia  once  a-slumb'ring  lay, 
It  chanc't  a  Bee  did  flie  that  way, 


3  Me  torret  face  mutua 

Thurini  Calais  filius  Ornyti  (11.  14-15.) 


122  HESPERIDES. 


(After  a  dew,  or  dew-like  shower) 

To  tipple  freely  in  a  flower. 

For  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  thought  I  might  there  take  a  taste, 

Where  so  much  sirrop  ran  at  waste. 

Besides,  know  this,  I  never  sting4 

The  flower  that  gives  me  nourishing : 

4  One  would  almost  imagine  that  Herrick  here  had  in  view  the 
caution  which  Secundus  gives  the  bee,  in  his  Basia  :  and  that  the 
little  insect  attended  to  it. 

Heu  I  non  est  stimulis  compungite  molle  labellum ; 

Ex  oculis  stimulos  vibrat  et  ilia  pareis. 
Credite  non  ullum  patietur  vulnus  inultum : 
Leniter  innocuae  mella  legatis  apes. 

Joan.  Sec.  Basium,  19.  N. 


HESPERIDES.  123 


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. 

Upon  Prig. 
T)R1G  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'rell5  there  tells  you 
Prig  mony  wants,  either  to  buy,  or  brew. 

Upon  Batt. 

"D^TT  he  gets  children,  not  for  love  to  reare  'em ; 
But  out  of  hope  his  wife  might  die  to  beare  ;em. 


=  cheveril  leather  (purse)  made  of  wild  goats'  skin:  kid. 


124  HESPERIDES. 


An  Ode  to  Master  Endymion  Porter, 

upon  his  Brothers  deathP 
"M"  OT  all  thy  flushing  Sunnes  are  set, 

Herrick,  as  yet : 

Nor  doth  this  far-drawn  Hemisphere 
Frown,  and  look  sullen  eVry  where. 
Daies  may  conclude  in  nights ;  and  Suns  may  rest,7 

As  dead,  within  the  West ; 
Yet  the  next  Morne,  re-guild  the  fragrant  East.8 

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,9  the  Elme,  the  prop,  the  shelt'ring  wall 

Whereon  my  Vine  did  crawle, 
Now,  now,  blowne  downe ;  needs  must  the  old  stock  fall. 


6  See  Memorial-Introduction,  as  before. 

7  Here  we  have  a  beautiful  amplification  of  the  three  following 
lines  from  Catullus  : — 

Soles  occidere,  et  redire  possunt ; 
Nobis,  cum  semel  occidit  brevis  lux, 
Nox  est  perpetua  una  dormenda. 
Carm.  5.  N. 

8  The  first  stanza  is  to  be  supposed  as  spoken  by  Porter. 

9  =  support  or  frame-work. 


HESPERIDES.  125 


Yet,  Porter •,  while  thou  keep'st  alive, 
In  death  I  thrive : 
And  like  a  Phenix  re-aspire 
From  out  my  Narde,1  and  Fun'rall  fire  : 
And  as  I  prune  my  feathered  youth,  so  I 

Doe  mar5!  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  resigne2 

Thanks  to  the  gen'rous  Vine ; 
Invites  fresh  Grapes  to  fill  his  Presse  with  Wine. 

To  his  dying  Brother ',  Master 

William  Herrick.3 
T  IFE  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. 

1  =  spice  burned  at  the  pyre.  2  =  offer  ? 

3  See  Memorial-Introduction. 


126  HESPERIDES. 


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  He  keep  none 

To  warme  my  Breast,  when  thou  my  Pulse  art  gone. 

No,  here  He  last,  and  walk  (a  harmless  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. 

The  Olive  Branch. 
C  ADLY  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  : 


H ESP  BRIDES.  127 


That  in  short  time  my  woes  shall  cease  ;  I 
And  Love  shall  crown  my  End  with  Peace. 

Upon  Much-more.4    Epig. 
TV/I"  UCH-MORE,  provides,  and  hoords  up  like  an 

Ant ; 

Yet  Much-more  still  complains  he  is  in  want. 
Let  Much-more  justly  pay  his  tythes  ;  then  try 
How  both  his  Meale  and  Oile  will  multiply. 

To  Cherry-blossomes. 
"V^E  may  simper,5  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. 
AYHITE  though  ye  be ;  yet,  Lillies,  know, 
From  the  first  ye  were  not  so : 
But  He  tell  ye 
What  befell  ye ; 

4  Like  others  in  these  Epigrams,  this  was  no  doubt  chosen  as 
expressive  of  a  greedy  miserly  fellow.  Ben  Jonson  has  similar  char 
acter-names  in  his  Epigrams.  8  =  look  pleasant :  deteriorated  since. 


128  HESPERIDES. 


Cupid  and  his  Mother  lay 

In  a  Cloud  ;  while  both  did  play, 

He  with  his  pretty  finger  prest 

The  rubie  niplet  of  her  breast ; 

Out  of  the  which,  the  creame  of  light, 

Like  to  a  Dew, 

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  ;6 
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? 
was't  that  fell  but  now 
From  that  warme  kisse  of  ours  ? 

6  "There  is  pansies,  that's  for  thoughts,"  [good  thoughts] .  Ham 
let  IV.,  5. 

7  =gilli-flowers  :  the  "  Posie  of  Gilloflower  "  (1580)  of  Humph. 
Gifford  has  immortalized  the  name. 


H ESP  BRIDES.  129 


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  Christal* 
"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, 

Tomb'd  in  a  Christal  stone, 
More  faire  in  this  transparent  case, 

Then  when  it  grew  alone ;  {than 

And  had  but  single  grace. 

You  see  how  Creame  but  naked  is ; 

Nor  daunces  in  the  eye 

Without  a  Strawberrie  : 
Or  some  fine  tincture,9  like  to  this, 

8  See  Memorial-Introduction.    This  was  a  favourite  of  Herrick's 
own.    See  Glossarial  Index  under  « christal.' 

9  =  colour,  as  in  heraldic  language.     See  Memorial-Introduction 
on  Herrick's  feeling  for  colour. 


1 3o  HESPERIDES. 


Which  draws  the  sight  thereto, 
More  by  that  wantoning  with  it ; 

Then  when  the  paler  hieu  [than 

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  aire : 
Where  either  too  much  light,  his  worth 
,      Doth  all  at  once  impaire, 

Or  set  it  little  forth. 

Put  Purple  grapes,  or  Cherries  in- 

To  Glasse,  and  they  will  send 

More  beauty  to  commend 
Them,  from  that  cleane  and  subtile  skin, 

Then  if  they  naked  stood,  [than 

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 ; 


HESPERIDES.  131 


Then  if  they  sho'd  discover  [than 

At  full  their  proper  excellence ; 

Without  some  Scean  cast  over, 
To  juggle  with  the  sense. 

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. 

T   IKE  to  a  Bride,  come  forth,  my  Booke,  at  last, 
With  all  thy  richest  jewels  over-cast : 


1 32  HESPERIDES. 


Say,  if  there  be  'mongst  many  jems  here ;  one 
Deservelesse  of  the  name  of  Paragon  .-1 
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  thred  and  thrumme  f 
A  meere  Botch  of  all  and  some.3 
Pieces,  patches,  ropes  of  haire ; 
In-laid  Garbage  ev'ry  where. 
Out-side  silk,  and  out-side  Lawne ; 
Sceanes4  to  cheat  us  neatly  drawne. 
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. 


1  Herrick,  following  the  French  (see  Cotgrave  s.  v.)  uses  paragon 
as  =  peerless  one  or  pattern.  Shakespeare  has  the  verb  in  the  sense 
of  to  compare  as  excellent  (Ant.  &  Cl :  i.  5)  and  also  to  excel 
(Othello  ii.  i  and  cf.  Henry  VIII.,  ii.  4).  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

'2  =ends  of  weaver's  warps  or  coarse  yarn. 

3  =the  whole  and  parts. 

4  Used  as  =  screen.     See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPER1DES.  133 


Supreme  fortune  falls  soonest. 

leanest  Beasts  in  Pastures  feed, 
The  fattest  Oxe  the  first  must  bleed. 


The  Welcome  to  Sack* 
CO  soft  streams  meet,  so  springs  with  gladder 

smiles 

Meet  after  long  divorcement  by  the  lies  : 
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  6°  Queens  meet,  when  Desire  convinces6 
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  ;7  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  !8  far  more  welcome  then  the  happy  soile,        [than 
The  Sea-scourg'd  Merchant,  after  all  his  toile, 

5  See  Memorial-Introduction,  on  this.  6   =  conquers. 

7  The  Sun.  H.        8  =Ay  :  see  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


i34  HESPERIDES. 


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  ? 

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 

He  expiate  with  Sulphur,  Haire,  and  Salt  :9 

And  with  the  Christal  humour  of  the  spring, 

Purge  hence  the  guilt,  and  kill  this  quarrelling. 

Wo't  thou  not  smile,  or  tell  me  what's  amisse  ? 

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-heap,  £s  a  mark 

To  testifie  the  glowing  of  a  spark  ? 

Have  I  divorc't  thee  onely  to  combine 

In  hot  Adult'ry  with  another  Wine  ? 

9  Folk-lore. 


HESPERIDES. 


135 


True,  I  confesse  I  left  thee,  and  appeale 
Twas  done  by  me,  more  to  confirme  my  zeale, 
And  double  my  affection  on  thee  ;  as  doe  those, 
Whose  love  growes  more  enflam'd,  by  being  Foes. 
But  to  forsake  thee  ever,  coM  there  be 
A  thought  of  such  like  possibilitie  ? 
When  thou  thy  selfe  dar'st  say,  thy  lies  shall  lack 
Grapes,  before  Herrick  leaves  Canarie  Sack. 
Thou  mak'st  me  ayrie,  active  to  be  i>orn, 
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,1  that  can  bring 
More  love  unto  my  life,  or  can  present 
My  Genius  with  a  fuller  blandishment  ? 
Illustrious  Idoll !  co'd  th'  ^Egyptians  seek 
Help  from  the  Garlick,  Onyon,  and  the  Leek, 
And  pay  no  vowes  to  thee  ?  who  wast  their  best 
God,  and  far  more  transcendent  then  the  rest  ? 
Had  Cassius,  that  weak  Water-drinker,2  known 
Thee  in  thy  Vine,  or  had  but  tasted  one 

»  So  Virgil  of  Camilla.  >  The  Moon.     H. 

-  Cassius  latrosophista,  or  Cassius  Felix  ? 

K 


136  HESPERIDES. 


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 

Run  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  ; 


3  Hercules.  H. 


H  ESP  BRIDES.  137 


When  these  Circumstants4  shall  but  live  to  see 
The  time  that  I  prevaricate5  from  thee. 
Call  me  The  sonne  of  Beere,  and  then  confine 
Me  to  the  Tap,  the  Tost,  the  Turfe  6;  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. 

Impossibilities  to  his  friend. 
AT  Y  faithful  friend,  if  you  can  see 

The  Fruit  to  grow  up,  or  the  Tree  : 
If  you  can  see  the  colour  come 
Into  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. 

4   =  surroundings,  environings.  6  =  play  fast  and  loose  or  betray, 
6   =  peat-fire? 


138  HESPERWES. 


Upon  Luggs.   Epig. 
JC7GGS  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. 

Q  UBBS  calls  his  children  Riflings'1 :  and  wo'd  bound 
(Some  say)  for  joy,  to  see  those  Kitlings  drown'd. 

To  live  merrily,  and  to  trust  to 

Good  Verses. 
XJ  OW  is  the  time  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  Pap8  and  Gum  ) 

Rich  beads  of  Amber  here. 


7   «=  kittens. 


HESPERIDES.  139 


Now  raignes  the  Rose,  and  now 
Th'  Arabian  Dew  besmears 

My  uncontrolled  brow, 
And  my  retorted9  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  He  drink 
To  Ovid;  and  suppose, 

Made  he  the  pledge,  he'd  think 
The  world  had  all  one  Nose.1 

Then  this  immensive2  cup 
Of  Aromatike  wine, 


:i  —  thrown  back. 

1  A  play  on  the  Poet's  name  of  'Naso,'  and  referring  also  to  that 
amorous  disposition  which  was  supposed  to  be  indicated  by  a  long 
nose.  3  =  measureless. 


140  HESPERIDES. 


Catullus,  I  quaffe  up 
To  that  Terce3  Muse  of  thine. 

Wild  I  am  now  with  heat ; 

O  Bacchus  !  coole  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. 

Behold,  Tibullus  lies 

Here  burnt,  whose  smal  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. 

3  = terse. 


HESPERIDES.  141 


And  when  all  Bodies  meet 

In  Lethe  to  be  drown'd  ; 
Then  onely  Numbers  sweet, 

With  endless  life  are  crown'd. 

Faire  dayes :  or,  Dawnes  deceitful!. 
"pAIRE  was  the  Dawne  ;  and  but  e'ne  now  the  Skies 
Shew'd  like  to  Creame,  enspir'd4  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,  whenas  we  see, 
As  Men,  the  Heavens  have  their  Hypocrisie  ? 

Lips  Tonguelesse? 
T7OR  my  part  I  never  care 

For  those  lips,  that  tongue-ty'd  are  : 

4  =  breathed  upon.     See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

5  This  little  jeu-d'esprit  is  possibly  grounded  on  the  following  lines: 

Si  linguam  clauso  tenes  in  ore, 
Fructus  projicies  amoris  omnes: 
VerbosA  gaudet  Venus  loquel&. 

Catullus.  Carm.  52.  N. 


142  HESPBRIDES. 


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'others  passions : 
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,  not  publish  it. 

7o  the  Fever,  not  to  trouble  Julia. 
'T'H'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. 


HESPERIDES.  143 

This  if  thou  dost,  woe  to  thee  Furie,  woe, 

He  send  such  Frost,  such  Haile,  such  Sleet,  and  Snow, 

Such  fears,  quakes,  Palsies,  and  such  Heates  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. 

i.  \AfELCOME,  Maids  of  Honour, 
You  doe  bring 
In  the  Spring ; 
And  wait  upon  her. 

2.  She  has  Virgins  many, 

Fresh  and  faire ; 
Yet  you  are 
More  sweet  then  any.  [than 

3.  Y'are  the  Maiden  Posies, 

And  so  grac't, 
To  be  plac't, 
Tore  Damask  Roses. 

4.  Yet  though  thus  respected, 

By  and  by 

Ye  doe  lie, 

Poore  Girles,  neglected. 


144  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  Bunce.     Epig. 
ONY  thou  oVst  me ;  Prethee  fix  a  day 

For  payment  promis'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. 

1.  C  TAY  while  ye  will,  or  goe ; 

And  leave  no  scent  behind  ye : 
Yet  trust  me,  I  shall  know 

The  place,  where  I  may  find  ye  : 

2.  Within  my  Lucia's  cheek, 

( Whose  Livery  ye  weare ) 
Play  ye  at  Hide  or  Seek, 
I'm  sure  to  find  ye  there. 

To  the  Virgins,  to  make  much  of  Tinted 
i.  QATHER  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. 

6  See  Memorial-Introduction  on  this. 


HESPERIDES.  145 


2.  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. 

3.  That  Age  is  best,  which  is  the  first, 

When  Youth  and  Blood  are  warmer ; 
But  being  spent,  the  worse,  and  worst 
Times,  still  succeed  the  former. 

4.  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  ones  selfe. 

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. 


146  HESPERIDES. 


Jo  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, 
Amphton-lite)  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. 

1.  (~)NELY  a  little  more 

I  have  to  write, 
Then  He  give  o're, 
And  bid  the  world  Good-night. 

2.  Tis  but  a  flying  minute, 

That  I  must  stay, 
Or  linger  in  it ; 
And  then  I  must  away. 


HBSPBRIDBS.  H7 


3.  O  time  that  cut'st  down  all ! 

And  scarce  leaVst  here 
Memoriall 
Of  any  men  that  were. 

4.  How  many  lye  forgot 

In  Vaults  beneath  ? 
And  piece-meale  rot 
Without  a  fame  in  death  ? 

5.  Behold  this  living  stone, 

I  reare  for  me, 
Ne'r  to  be  thrown 
Downe,  envious  Time  by  thee. 

6.  Pillars  let  some  set  up, 

(If  so  they  please) 
Here  is  my  hope, 
And  my  Pyramides.1 

Safety  on  the  Shore. 

though  the  sea  be  calme  ?    Trust  to  the 
shore  : 

Ships  have  been  drown'd,  where  late  they  danc't 
before. 

7  Note  the  pronunciation  to  rhyme  with  '  please ' — pyr-am-i-des. 
Like  statua,  apostata,  it  had  not  yet  been  perfectly  Anglicised. 


148  HESPERIDES. 


A  Pastorallupon  the  Birth  of  Prince  Charles, 
Presented  to  the  King,  and  Set  by 

Mr.  Nic  :  Laniere.8 

The  Speakers,  Mirtillo,  Amintas,  and  Amarillis. 
Amin.  r^OOD  day,  Mirtillo.     Mirl.  And  to  you 

no  lesse : 
And  all  faire  Signs  lead  on  our  Shepardesse. 

Amar.  With  all  white  luck  to  you.     Mirt.  But  say, 

what  news 
Stirs  in  our  Sheep-walk  ?    Amin.  None,  save  that  my 

Ewes, 

My  Weathers,  Lambes,  and  wanton  Kids  are  well, 
Smooth,  faire,  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  Amintas,  and,  sweet  Amarillis, 
Rest  but  a  while  here,  by  this  bank  of  Lillies. 


8  This  was  afterwards  Charles  II:  born  1630  :  Nicholas  Laniere, 
painter,  engraver  and  musician,  was  born  in  Italy  in  1568.  He 
came  early  in  life  to  England.  One  of  his  chief  compositions  was 
a  Masque  performed  on  the  marriage  of  the  Earl  of  Somerset  with 
the  Countess  of  Essex.  His  own  portrait,  by  himself,  is  in  the 
Music-School  at  Oxford.  He  died  in  November,  1646.  This  it  will 
be  seen  is  another  early  poem.  See  Memorial-Introduction. 


HESPERIDES.  149 


And  lend  a  gentle  eare  to  one  report 

The  Country  has.     Amint.  From  whence  ?     Amar. 

From  whence  ?     Mir.  The  Court. 
Three  dayes  before  the  Shutting  in  of  May, 
(With  whitest  Wool9  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.      [than 

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  scene  a  Silver  Star, 
Bright  as  the  Wise-men's  Torch,  which  guided  them 
To  God's  sweet  Babe,  when  borne  at  Bethlehem  y1 
While  Golden  Angels  (some  have  told  to  me ) 
Sung  out  his  Birth  with  Heav'nly  Minstralsie. 

Amint.  O  rare  !  Butis'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. 

Amar.  But,  deare  Mirtillo,  I  have  heard  it  told, 
Those  learned  men  brought  Incense,  Myrrhe,  and  Gold, 
From  Countries  far,  with  store  of  Spices,  (sweet) 
And  laid  them  downe  for  Ofirings  at  his  feet.2 

9  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v.     *  See  Memorial-Introduction  on  this. 
3  St.  Matthew,  ii.  n. 


150  HESPERIDES. 


Mirt.  Tis  true  indeed  ;  and  each  of  us  will  bring 
Unto  our  smiling,  and  our  blooming  King, 
A  neat,  though  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.    [than 

Amint.  And  I  will  beare  along  with  you 
Leaves  dropping  downe  the  honyed  dew, 
With  oaten  pipes,  as  sweet,  as  new. 

Mirt.  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. 

QOOD  speed,  for  I  this  day 
Betimes  my  Mattens3  say  : 
Because  I  doe 
Begin  to  wooe : 
Sweet  singing  Lark, 
Be  thou  the  Clark, 

3  =  matins. 


H ESP  BRIDES.  151 


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. 
T^O  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  dreadfull  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  her  eye. 


152  HESPERIDES. 


A  Meditation  for  his  Mistresse. 

1.  VOU  are  a  Tulip  seen  to  day, 

But  (Dearest)  of  so  short  a  stay ; 
That  where  you  grew,  scarce  man  can  say. 

2.  You  are  a  lovely  July-flower, 

Yet  one  rude  wind,  or  ruffling  shower, 
Will  force  you  hence,  (and  in  an  houre.) 

3.  You  are  a  sparkling  Rose  i'th'bud, 

Yet  lost,  ere  that  chast  flesh  and  blood 
Can  shew  where  you  or  grew,  or  stood. 

4.  You  are  a  full-spread  faire-set  Vine, 
And  can  with  Tendrills  love  intwine, 
Yet  dry'd,  ere  you  distill  your  Wine. 

5.  You  are  like  Balme  inclosed  (well) 
In  Amber,  or  some  Chrystall  shell, 
Yet  lost  ere  you  transfuse  your  smell., 

6.  You  are  a  dainty  Violet, 

Yet  wither'd,  ere  you  can  be  set 
Within  the  Virgins  Coronet. 

7.  You  are  the  Queen  all  flowers  among, 
But  die  you  must  (faire  Maid)  ere  long, 
As  He,  the  maker  of  this  Song. 


HESPERIDES.  153 


The  bleeding  hand:  or,  The  sprig  of 

Eglantine  given  to  a  maid. 
"P  ROM  this  bleeding  hand  of  mine, 

Take  this  sprig  of  Eglantine. 
Which  (though  sweet  unto  your  smell) 
Yet  the  fretfull  bryar  will  tell, 
He  who  plucks  the  sweets  shall  prove 
Many  thorns  to  be  in  Love. 

Ly  rick  for  Legacies. 
C*  OLD  I've  none,  for  use  or  show,. 

Neither  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. 


154  HESPERIDES. 


A  Dirge  upon  the  Death  of  the  Right  Valiant 

Lord,  Bernard  Stuart.4 

"LJ  ENCE,  hence,  profane  ;  soft  silence  let  us  have 
While  we  this  Trentall^  sing  about  thy  Grave. 
Had  Wolves  or  Tigers  seen  but  thee, 
They  wo'd  have  shew'd  civility ; 6 
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. 


4  Robert  Heath,  in  his  "  Clarastella"  (1650),  has  a  poem  in  cele 
bration  of  this  Royalist  Worthy  ("  Elegies  "  p.  8).  This  was  Bernard 
Stuart,  fourth  son  of  Esme,  3rd  Duke  of  Lennox.  He  was  com 
mander  of  the  King's  troop  of  guards  in  the  Civil  Wars,  and  was 
killed  at  Rowton  Heath,  near  Chester,  in  1645. 

*  Originally  the  Romish  office  for  the  dead,  consisting  of  thirty 
masses  rehearsed  for  thirty  days  after  the  death  of  the  person.  Hence, 
a  dirge,  but  here  used  for  a  funeral  song  or  lamentation. 

6   =  civilization. 


HESP BRIDES.  155 


Sleepe  in  thy  peace,  while  we  with  spice  perfume  thee, 
And  Cedar 7  wash  thee,  that  no  times  consume  thee. 

2.  Live,  live  thou  dost,  and  shalt ;  for  why  ? 
Soules  doe  not  with  their  bodies  die  : 
Ignoble  off-springs,  they  may  fall 
Into  the  flames  of  Funerall : 
Whenas  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  in  thy 
story.  [than 

To  Perenna,  a  Mistresse. 
T^EARE  Perenna,  prethee  come, 

And  with  Smallage 8  dresse  my  Tomb  : 
Adde  a  Cyfiresse-sprig  thereto, 
With  a  teare ;  and  so  Adieu. 

Great  boast,  small  rost. 

QF  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  stiife-blew-Pigs-feet,  and  a  sow's  cleft  eare. 

7  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v.  8  Herb,  as  before. 


156  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  a  Bleare-ey'd  woman. 
D  with  yeeres,  and  bed-rid  Mumma 
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? 
"DARE  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  scene  more  fine 
Then  this,  the  Fairies  once,  now  Thine.         [than 

The  Temple. 
A    WAY  enchac't  with  glasse  &  beads 

There  is,  that  to  the  Chappel  leads  : 
Whose  structure  (for  his  holy  rest) 
Is  here  the  Halcioris^-  curious  nest : 
Into  the  which  who  looks  shall  see 
His  Temple  of  Idolatry  : 

9  Nothing  seems  to  be  now  known  of  Merrifield.  It  is  just  pos 
sible  that — as  throughout  the  poem — the  name  was  an  invented  one, 
*  Merry  Field.'  1  Kingfisher. 


HESPERIDES.  157 


Where  he  of  God-heads  has  such  store, 

As  Rome's  Pantheon  had  not  more. 

His  house  of  &'mmon2  this  he  calls, 

Girt  with  small  bones,  instead  of  walls. 

First,  in  a  Neech?  more  black  then  jet,  [than 

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  can* 

Part  Pagan,  part  Papisticall. 

If  unto  me  all  Tongues  were  granted, 

I  co'd  not  speak  the  Saints  here  painted. 

Saint  Tit*  Saint  Nit?  Saint  /r,8  Saint  Itis? 

Who  'gainst  Mabs-state  plac't  here  right  is. 

2  2  Kings,  v.  1 8.  3   =  niche.  4  =  worm. 

5  =  cornice  :  still  pronounced  '  cornish  '  in  Devon. 

6  St.  Titus.  *  St.  Neot.  8  St.  Idus.  »  St.  Ida. 


158  HESPERIDES. 


Saint  Will  tfth  Wispe  (of  no  great  bignes) 

But  alias  call'd  here  Fatuus  ignis. 

Saint  Frip?  Saint  Trip?  Saint  Fill?  S.  Fillie? 

Neither  those  other-Saint-ships  will  I 

Here  goe  about  for  to  recite 

Their  number  (almost)  infinite, 

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?  who  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. 

1  St.  Fridian  or  St.  Fridolin.  2  St.  Trypho.  3  St.  Felan.  4  St. 
Felix.  Whilst  I  have  given  these  Romish  saints*  names,  I  am  not 
sure  but  Herrick  would  have  laughed  loudly  at  my  pains,  and  told 
me  that  he  merely  gave  such  names  as  Fairy  saints  might  have  had. 
Certes  St.  Will  o'  th*  Wispc  looks  like  this. 

*  =Favete  linguis,  &c.  Horace,  Od.  iii.  i,  2. 


HESPE  RIDES.  159 


Neere  to  the  Altar  stands  the  Priest, 
There  ofFring  up  the  Holy-Grist  :6 
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  Bruckel'd 7  children  call 
(Playing  for  Points  and  Pins)  Cockall.8 
Whose  Linen-Drapery  is  a  thin 
Subtile  and  ductile  Codlin's  9  skin ; 
Which  o're  the  board  is  smoothly  spred, 
With  little  Seale-work  Damasked. 
The  Fringe  that  circumbinds 1  it  too, 
Is  Spangle-work  of  trembling  dew, 
Which,  gently  gleaming,  makes  a  show, 
Like  Frost-work  glitt'ring  on  the  Snow. 


6  =holy  grain.     The  reference  is  to  the  offering  of  the  Host. 

7  =  begrimed,  wet  and  dirty.     Whence  is  it  derived  ?     Nares  s.  v. 
suggests  4  breeched' ;  but  it  is  a  very  unsavoury  etymology,  albeit  not 
far  out  here. 

8  =the  huckle  or  pastern -bone  of  the  sheep,  used  for  a  game 
played  from  classic  times. 

9  =  codling :  apple  so  called.  l   =  binds  it  round. 


160  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  this  fetuous  2  board  doth  stand 
Something  for  Skew-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  3  Ribbanings. 
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 ; 
I4,  and  their  Book  of  Canons  too. 
And,  as  Sir  Thomas  Parson  5  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  : 


2  =fetise,  well-made,  or  neat,  elegant. 

3  =  watched,  dark  blue.  4  =Ay.     So  in  next  page,  1.  22. 
*  This  might  be  put  as  a  general  name  for  a  clergyman  ('parson '), 

'Sir*  being  the  olden  designation  of  a  priest.  But  the  following 
line,  "  that  Fairie  knight,"  looks  as  if  some  real  person  were  meant. 
Who? 


HESPERIDES.  161 


A  little  Pin-dust ;  which  they  hold 

More  precious,  then  we  prize  our  gold  :          [than 

Which  charity  they  give  to  many 

Poore  of  the  Parish,  (if  there's  any). 

Upon  the  ends  of  these  neat  Railes 

(Hatcht,6  with  the  Silver-light  of  snails,) 

The  Elves,  in  formall  manner,  fix 

Two  pure,  and  holy  Candlesticks  : 

In  either  which  a  small  tall  bent  7 

Burns  for  the  Altars  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  9  too  : 


6  =  engraved:  "This   sword,    silver'd  and   hatcht "  :  Chapman 
(Bailey  s.  v.)  7   =  blade  of  coarse  grass  or  rush. 

8  —vestry  or  church-room.  *   =lazy  monks. 


1 62  HESPERIDES. 


And  if  their  Legend  doe  not  lye, 

They  much  affect  the  Papacie  : 

And  since  the  last  is  dead,  there's  hope, 

Elve  Boniface  shall  next  be  Pope.lQ 

They  have  their  Cups  and  Chalices  ; 

Their  Pardons  and  Indulgences  : 

Their  Beads  of  Nits,1  Bels,  Books,  &  Wax 

Candles  (forsooth)  and  other  knacks  : 

Their  Holy  Oyle,  their  Fasting-Spittle; 

Their  sacred  Salt  here,  (not  a  little.) 

Dry  chips,  old  shooes,  rags,  grease,  6°  bones  ; 

Beside  their  Fumigations, 

To  drive  the  Devill  from  the  Cod-piece  2 

Of  the  Fryar,  (of  work  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. 

10  Is  this  a  reference  to  some  recent  Papal  election,  of  which  ru 
mours  were  circulating  ? 

1  =  nuts  in  Devonshire,  as  in  the  local  proverb  "So  many  nits 
[nuts],  so  many  pits  [graves],"  which  seems  to  point  to  the  indi 
gestible,  and  so  deathly,  nature  of  nuts  taken  in  over-quantity. 

2  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPERIDES.  163 


The  Saint,  to  which  the  most  he  prayes 

And  offers  Incense  Nights  and  dayes, 

The  Lady  of  the  lobster  3  is, 

Whose  foot-pace  he  doth  stroak  and  kisse ; 

And,  humbly,  chives  4  of  Saffron  brings, 

For  his  most  cheerfull  offerings. 

When,  after  these,  h'as  paid  his  vows, 

He  lowly  to  the  Altar  bows  : 

And  then  he  dons  the  Silk-worms  shed,5 

(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  Mistresse  Katherine  Bradshaw,  the  lovely, 
that  crowned  him  with  Laurel.1 

JY/T  Y  Muse  in  Meads  has  spent  her  many  houres, 
Sitting,  and  sorting  severall  sorts  of  flowers, 

3  Who? 

*   =chip  or   shiver,  and  in  a  plant  is  the  thread-like  style  and 
stigma  of  the  flower.     Saffron  is  that  part  of  the  crocus.     5  Cocoon. 

6  Italian  and   Spanish  turbante — linen   head-dress    wreathed  = 
turban. 

7  Impossible  to  identify.     The  Bradshaws  were  very  numerous  at 
this  period.     No  doubt  a  Devonshire  Beauty. 


1 64  HESPERIDES. 


To  make  for  others  garlands  :  and  to  set 
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  for  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, 

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. 


8  These  lines  have  an  evident  reference  to  the  Phaselus  of  Catullus, 
or  fifth  Carmen.  N.    Very  slight  indeed,  if  any  such  reference. 


HESPERIDES.  165 


To  the  most  vertuous  Mistresse  Pot, 
who  many  times  entertained  7«>//.9 
"VIT'HEN  I  through  all  my  many  Poems  look, 
And  see  your  selfe  to  beautifie  my  Book ; 
Me  thinks  that  onely  lustre  doth  appeare 
A  Light  fill-filling  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  halfe,  who  drfs  confesse  the  Debt. 


To  Musique,  to  becalme  his  Fever. 

i.  /^HARM  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, 


Probably  another  character-name. 


1 66  HESPERIDES. 


Thou  Power  that  canst  sever 
From  me  this  ill : 
And  quickly  still : 
Though  thou  not  kill 
My  Fever. 

2.  JThou  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. 

3.  Fall  on  me  like  a  silent  dew, 

Or  like  those  Maiden  showrs, 
Which,  by  the  peepe  of  day,  doe  strew 
A  Baptime 10  o're  the  flowers. 
Melt,  melt  my  paines, 
With  thy  soft  straines ; 

=  baptism,  as  before.    See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 


HESPERIDES.  167 


That  having  ease  me  given, 
With  full  delight, 
I  leave  this  light ; 
And  take  my  flight 
For  Heaven. 

Upon  a  Gentlewoman  with  a 

sweet  Voice. 

CO  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.1 
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. 


1  Imitation  of  the  Pseudo-Anacreon,  No.  59  (5  in  Bergk's  Lyr't 
Poets.) 

M 


1 68  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  Julia's  breasts. 
T^ISPLAY  thy  breasts,  my  Julia,  there  let  me 

Behold  that  circummortall 2  purity  : 
Betweene  whose  glories,  there  my  lips  He  lay, 
Ravisht,  in  that  faire  Via  Lactea. 

Best  to  be  merry. 
"pOOLES  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 
Gratine  the  Genius? 

The  Changes,  to  Corinna. 
"DE  not  proud,  but  now  encline 
Your  soft  eare  to  Discipline. 
You  have  changes  in  your  life, 
Sometimes  peace,  and  sometimes  strife  : 
You  have  ebbes  of  face  and  flowes, 
As  your  health  or  comes,  or  goes  ; 

-  =  more  than  mortal.  (See  Glossarial  Index  under  circum.) 
Perhaps  a  reference  to  the  "  glory  M  of  purity  that  surrounds  (the 
head  of)  saints..  See  "  glories  "  in  1.  3. 

:j  Used  in  the  Roman  sense  for  guardian  spirit  or  personal  Lar 


HESPERIDES.  169 


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. 
"D  ARRE  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. 

Neglect. 

p^RT  quickens  Nature  ;  Care  will  make  a  face. 
Neglected  beauty  perisheth  apace. 

4   =  passions  wanting  in  heat,  i.  e.,  depressing  passions. 


1 70  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  himself e. 

I  am,  as  some  have  said, 
Because  I've  hVd  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.  [than 

Upon  a  Physitian. 
'"THOU  cam'stto  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. 

CUDDS  Launders  Bands  in  pisse;  and  starches  them 
Both  with  her  Husband's,  and  her  own  tough  fleame. 

To  the  Rose.     Song. 
i.  C*  OE,  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. 

5   =  short-sighted  or  dim-sighted. 


HESPERIDES.  171 


2.  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. 

3.  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. 

C*  UESSE  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  [tjhere. 

To  his  Booke. 

'FHOU  art  a  plant  sprung  up  to  wither  never, 
•  But  like  a  Laurell,  to  grow  green  for  ever. 


Upon  a  painted  Gentlewoman. 
EN  say  y'are  faire  ;  and  faire  ye  are,  'tis  true  ; 
But  (Hark  !)  we  praise  the  Painter  now,  not  you. 


172  HESPERIDES. 


Upon  a  crooked  Maid. 
£  ROOKED  you  are,  but  that  dislikes  not  me; 

So  you  be  straight,  where  Virgins  straight  sho'd  be. 

Draw  Gloves? 
AT  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  Mustek,  to  becalme  a  sweet-sick-youth. 
/CHARMS,  that  call  down  the  rnoon  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  sleep  : 7 
That  done,  then  let  him,  dispossest  of  paine, 
>Like  to  a  slumbring  Bride,  awake  againe. 

6  An  old  English  sport  or  game.     Cf.  Strutt  s.  v. 
-7  Cf.  Maud : 

"Hast  given  false  death  her  hand,  and  stol'n  away 
To  dreamful -wastes,  where  footless  fancies  dwell." 


HESP BRIDES.  173 


To  the  High  and  Noble  Prince,  GEORGE, 
Duke,  Marquesse,  and  Earle  of 

Buckingham.8 

"M  EVER  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  Honoured  Sir. 

His  Recantation. 
JOVE,  I  recant, 

And  pardon  crave, 
That  lately  I  offended, 
But  'twas, 
Alas, 

To  make  a  brave,9 
But  no  disdaine  intended. 

No  more  He  vaunt, 
For  now  I  see, 
Thou  onely  hast  the  power, 

8  The  Buckingham  of  History.  9  —bravado. 


174  HESPERIDES. 


To  find, 
And  bind 
A  heart  that's  free, 
And  slave 1  it  in  an  houre. 

The  camming  of  good  luck. 
CO  Good-luck  came,  and  on  my  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,  tickePd  by  degrees. 

The  Present :  or,  The  Bag  of  the  Bee. 
"pLY  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  mournfull  humme, 
Tole  forth  my  death ;  next,  to  my  buryall  come. 

On  Love. 

J^OVE  bade  me  aske  a  gift, 
And  I  no  more  did  move,2 


=  put  it  in  bondage — as  enslave ;  and  so  Shakespeare. 
=  ask. 


HESPERIDES.  175 

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 

Westmorland.3 

toe,  * 

ile  :    ' 

By  whose  tough  labours,  and  rough  hands, 
We  rip  up  first,  then  reap  our  lands. 
Crown'd  with  the  eares  of  come,  now  come, 
And,  to  the  Pipe,  sing  Harvest  home. 
Come  forth,  my  Lord,  and  see  the  Cart 
Brest  up  with  all  the  Country  Art 
See,  here  a  Maukinf  there  a  sheet, 
As  spotlesse  pure,  as  it  is  sweet  : 


3  See  former  note  on  this  poet-noble,  and  Memorial-Introduction. 

4  =  maulkin  :  cloth  usually  wetted  and  attached  to  a  pole  to  clean 
out  a  baker's  oven-floor.     In  Devon,  a  cloth  or  clout  generally. 


Sons  of  Summer,  by  whose  toile,  \     \ 
We  are  the  Lords  of  Wine  and  Oile  : 


1 76  HESPERIDES. 


The  Horses,  Mares,  and  frisking  Fillies, 

(Clad,  all,  in  Linnen,  white  as  Lillies.) 

The  Harvest  Swaines,  and  Wenches  bound 

For  joy,  to  see  the  Hock-cart  5  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  laughter. 

Some  blesse  the  Cart  ;  some  kisse  the  sheaves  ; 

Some  prank  6  them  up  with  Oaken  leaves  : 

Some  crosse  the  Fill-horse;7  some  with  great 

Devotion,  stroak  the  home-borne  wheat  : 

While  other  Rusticks,  lesse  attent 

To  Prayers,  then  to  Merryment,  [than 

Run  after  with  their  breeches  rent  _ 

Well,  on,  brave  boyes,  to  your  Lords  Hearth, 

Glitt'ring  with  fire  ;  where,  for  your  mirth, 

Ye  shall  see  first  the  large  and  cheefe 

Foundation  of  your  Feast,  Fat  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, 


5  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v. 

6  =  adorn.  7  =  the  shaft  or  fill  horse. 


HESPERIDES.  177 


And  here  all-tempting  Frumentie.7 

And  for  to  make  the  merry  cheere, 

If  smirking  8  Wine  be  wanting  here, 

There's  that,  which  drowns  all  care,  stout  Beere  :  ^j^if 

Which  freely  drink  to  your  Lords  health,  *$0  ^ 

Then  to  the  Plough,  (the  Common-wealth) 

Next  to  your  Flailes,  your  Fanes,9  your  Fatts ; 1 

Then  to  the  Maids  with  Wheaten-Hats  : 

To  the  rough  Sickle,  and  crookt,  Sythe, 

Drink,  frollick,  boyes,  till  all  be  blythe. 

Feed,  and  grow  fat ;  and  as  ye  eat,  ^  (  dfc**1 

Be  mindfull,  that  the  lab'ring  Neat.2-)  *  ^  \    ' 

(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  Lords  word's  true, 

Feed  him  ye  must,  whose  food  fils  you. 

And  that  this  pleasure  is  like  raine, 


7  =  hulled  wheat  boiled  in  milk  and  variously  seasoned. 

8  We  say  '  winking '  =  sparkling. 

'  =  fanners  or  fans,  for  winnowing:  or  perchance  'vanes'  to 
mark  the  wind  =  weather-cocks.  I  add  the  alternative  because  it  is 
used  provincially  in  both  senses.  l  =vats.  -  =oxen. 


178  HESPERIDES. 


Not  sent  ye  for  to  drowne  your  paine, 
But  for  to  make  it  spring  againe. 

The  Perfume. 
'pO-MORROW,  Julia,  I  betimes  must  rise, 

For  some  small  fault,  to  offer  sacrifice  : 
The  Altar's  ready ;  Fire  to  consume 
The  fat ;  breathe  thou,  and  there's  the  rich  perfume. 


Upon  her  Voice. 
T  ET  but  thy  voice  engender  with  the  string, 

And  Angels  will  be  borne,  while  thou  dost  sing. 


Not  to  love. 
TJT  E  that  will  not  love,  must  be 

My  Scholar,  and  learn  this  of  me  : 
There  be  in  Love  as  many  feares, 
As  the  Summers  Corne  has  eares  : 
Sighs,  and  sobs,  and  sorrowes  more 
Then  the  sand,  that  makes  the  shore  :  [than 

Freezing  cold,  and  fine  heats, 
Fainting  swoones,  and  deadly  sweats ; 
Now  an  Ague,  then  a  Fever, 
Both  tormenting  Lovers  ever. 


HESPERIDES.  179 


Wods't  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  :3 
How  high  she's  priz'd,  and  worth  but  small ; 
Little  thou'lt  love,  or  not  at  all. 

To  Mustek.     A  Song. 
lyrUSICK,  thou  Queen  of  Heaven,  Care-charming  spel, 

That  strik'st  a  stilnesse  into  hell : 
Thou  that  tam'st  Tygers,  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. 
i.   C  WEET  Western  Wind,  whose  luck  it  is, 

( Made  rivall  with  the  aire ) 
To  give  Perennds  lip  a  kisse, 
And  fan  her  wanton  haire. 

3  Meaning  =  very  little  herself,  but  chiefly  and  more  usually  some 
body  or  something  else :  or  perhaps  more  correctly  "  for  every  pas 
sion  something,  and  for  no  passion  truly  anything,"  as  says  Rosa 
lind  in  As  You  Like  It.  • 


i8o  HESPERIDES. 

2.  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  Elegie. 
"VX^HY  doe  not  all  fresh  maids  appeare 

To  work  Love's  Sampler4  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,5  to  ore-spred 
The  body  of  the  under-dead  ? 
Phillf  the  late  dead,  the  late  dead  Deare, 
O  !  may  no  eye  distill  a  Teare 
For  you  once  lost,  who  weep  not  here  ! 


4  See  Glossarial  Index  s.  v.  5   =  hearse-cloth  (at  funerals). 

6  The  use  of  '  Phil '  for  the  'sparrow  '  by  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  has 
led  to  ludicrous  misunderstanding  of  his  "  Astrophel  and  Stella." 
Whence  did  Phil  originate  ?  Probably  from  their  note,  which  was 
represented  in  English  by  '  phip,  phip.'  So  in  Skelton's  elegy  on 
Philip  Sparrow : 

"  And  when  I  sayd  Phyp  Phip 

Then  he  wold  leape  and  skip." 
See  Lyly's  Mother  Bumbie. 


HESPERIDES.  181 


Had  Lesbia  (too-too-kind)  but  known 
This  Sparrow,  she  had  scorn'd  her  own  : 
And  for  this  dead  which  under-lies, 
Wept  out  her  heart,  as  well  as  eyes. 
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.7 

To  Primroses  fiWd  with  morning  dew. 
\X/"HY  doe  ye  weep,  sweet  Babes?  can  Tears 
Speak  griefe  in  you, 
Who  were  but  borne 
Just  as  the  modest  Mome 
Teem'd  8  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 ; 

7  Spurious  :  but  Spenser  translated  it.  s   =  poured  out. 


1 82  HESPERIDES. 


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. 

2.  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, 
Conceiv'd  with  grief  are,  and  with  teares  brought  forth. 


END  OF  VOL.  i. 


L 


PRINTED    BY    ROBERT    ROBERTS,    BOSTON,    LINCOLNSHIRE. 


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