No More Learning

TO MISTRESS DOROTHY PARSONS.

If thou ask me, dear, wherefore
I do write of thee no more,
I must answer, sweet, thy part
Less is here than in my heart.


502. HOW HE WOULD DRINK HIS WINE.

Fill me my wine in crystal; thus, and thus
I see't in's _puris naturalibus_:
Unmix'd. I love to have it smirk and shine;
_'Tis sin I know, 'tis sin to throttle wine_.
What madman's he, that when it sparkles so,
Will cool his flames or quench his fires with snow?


503. HOW MARIGOLDS CAME YELLOW.

Jealous girls these sometimes were,
While they liv'd or lasted here:
Turn'd to flowers, still they be
Yellow, mark'd for jealousy.


504. THE BROKEN CRYSTAL.

To fetch me wine my Lucia went,
Bearing a crystal continent:
But, making haste, it came to pass
She brake in two the purer glass,
Then smil'd, and sweetly chid her speed;
So with a blush beshrew'd the deed.

_Continent_, holder.


505. PRECEPTS.

Good precepts we must firmly hold,
By daily learning we wax old.


506. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDWARD, EARL OF DORSET.

If I dare write to you, my lord, who are
Of your own self a public theatre,
And, sitting, see the wiles, ways, walks of wit,
And give a righteous judgment upon it,
What need I care, though some dislike me should,
If Dorset say what Herrick writes is good?
We know y'are learn'd i' th' Muses, and no less
In our state-sanctions, deep or bottomless.
Whose smile can make a poet, and your glance
Dash all bad poems out of countenance;
So that an author needs no other bays
For coronation than your only praise,
And no one mischief greater than your frown
To null his numbers, and to blast his crown.
_Few live the life immortal. He ensures
His fame's long life who strives to set up yours. _


507. UPON HIMSELF.

Thou'rt hence removing (like a shepherd's tent),
And walk thou must the way that others went:
Fall thou must first, then rise to life with these,
Mark'd in thy book for faithful witnesses.


508. HOPE WELL AND HAVE WELL: OR, FAIR AFTER FOUL WEATHER.

What though the heaven be lowering now,
And look with a contracted brow?
We shall discover, by-and-by,
A repurgation of the sky;
And when those clouds away are driven,
Then will appear a cheerful heaven.


509. UPON LOVE.

I held Love's head while it did ache;
But so it chanc'd to be,
The cruel pain did his forsake,
And forthwith came to me.

Ay me! how shall my grief be still'd?
Or where else shall we find
One like to me, who must be kill'd
For being too-too kind?


510. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MRS. PENELOPE WHEELER.

Next is your lot, fair, to be number'd one,
Here, in my book's canonisation:
Late you come in; but you a saint shall be,
In chief, in this poetic liturgy.


511. ANOTHER UPON HER.

First, for your shape, the curious cannot show
Any one part that's dissonant in you:
And 'gainst your chaste behaviour there's no plea,
Since you are known to be Penelope.
Thus fair and clean you are, although there be
_A mighty strife 'twixt form and chastity_.

_Form_, beauty.


513. CROSS AND PILE.

Fair and foul days trip cross and pile; the fair
Far less in number than our foul days are.

_Trip cross and pile_, come haphazard, like the heads and tails of coins.


514. TO THE LADY CREW, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.

Why, madam, will ye longer weep,
Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep?
And (pretty child) feels now no more
Those pains it lately felt before.
All now is silent; groans are fled:
Your child lies still, yet is not dead;
But rather like a flower hid here
To spring again another year.


515. HIS WINDING-SHEET.

Come thou, who art the wine and wit
Of all I've writ:
The grace, the glory, and the best
Piece of the rest.
Thou art of what I did intend
The all and end;
And what was made, was made to meet
Thee, thee, my sheet.
Come then, and be to my chaste side
Both bed and bride.
We two, as reliques left, will have
One rest, one grave.
And, hugging close, we will not fear
Lust entering 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 widows long oppress'd
Do here find rest.
The wronged client ends his laws
Here, and his cause.
Here those long suits of chancery lie
Quiet, or die:
And all Star-Chamber bills do cease,
Or hold their peace.
Here needs no Court for our Request,
Where all are best,
All wise, all equal, and all just
Alike i' th' dust.
Nor need we here to fear the frown
Of court or crown:
_Where fortune bears no sway o'er things,
There all are kings_.
In this securer place we'll keep,
As lull'd asleep;
Or for a little time we'll lie
As robes laid by;
To be another day re-worn,
Turn'd, but not torn:
Or, like old testaments engrost,
Lock'd up, not lost.
And for a while lie here conceal'd,
To be reveal'd
Next at that great Platonick year,
And then meet here.

_Platonick year_, the 36,000th year, in which all persons and things
return to their original state.


516. TO MISTRESS MARY WILLAND.

One more by thee, love, and desert have sent,
T' enspangle this expansive firmament.
O flame of beauty! come, appear, appear
A virgin taper, ever shining here.


517. CHANGE GIVES CONTENT.

What now we like anon we disapprove:
_The new successor drives away old love_.


519. ON HIMSELF.

Born I was to meet with age,
And to walk life's pilgrimage.
Much I know of time is spent,
Tell I can't what's resident.
Howsoever, cares, adieu!
I'll have nought to say to you:
But I'll spend my coming hours
Drinking wine and crown'd with flowers.

_Resident_, remaining.


520. FORTUNE FAVOURS.

Fortune did never favour one
Fully, without exception;
Though free she be, there's something yet
Still wanting to her favourite.


521. TO PHYLLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM.

Live, live with me, and thou shall see
The pleasures I'll prepare for thee;
What sweets the country can afford
Shall bless thy bed and bless thy board.
The soft, sweet moss shall be thy bed
With crawling woodbine over-spread;
By which the silver-shedding streams
Shall gently melt thee into dreams.
Thy clothing, next, shall be a gown
Made of the fleece's purest down.
The tongues of kids shall be thy meat,
Their milk thy drink; and thou shalt eat
The paste of filberts for thy bread,
With cream of cowslips buttered;
Thy feasting-tables shall be hills
With daisies spread and daffodils,
Where thou shalt sit, and red-breast by,
For meat, shall give thee melody.
I'll give thee chains and carcanets
Of primroses and violets.
A bag and bottle thou shalt have,
That richly wrought, and this as brave;
So that as either shall express
The wearer's no mean shepherdess.
At shearing-times, and yearly wakes,
When Themilis his pastime makes,
There thou shalt be; and be the wit,
Nay, more, the feast, and grace of it.
On holidays, when virgins meet
To dance the heyes with nimble feet,
Thou shall come forth, and then appear
The queen of roses for that year;
And having danced, 'bove all the best,
Carry the garland from the rest.
In wicker baskets maids shall bring
To thee, my dearest shepherling,
The blushing apple, bashful pear,
And shame-fac'd plum, all simp'ring there.
Walk in the groves, and thou shalt find
The name of Phyllis in the rind
Of every straight and smooth-skin tree;
Where kissing that, I'll twice kiss thee.
To thee a sheep-hook I will send,
Be-prank'd with ribands to this end;
This, this alluring hook might be
Less for to catch a sheep than me.
Thou shalt have possets, wassails fine,
Not made of ale, but spiced wine,
To make thy maids and self free mirth,
All sitting near the glitt'ring hearth.
Thou shalt have ribands, roses, rings,
Gloves, garters, stockings, shoes, and strings
Of winning colours, that shall move
Others to lust, but me to love.
These, nay, and more, thine own shall be
If thou wilt love, and live with me.

_Carcanets_, necklaces.
_Wakes_, village feasts on the dedication day of the church.
_The heyes_, a winding, country dance.
_Be-prank'd_, be-decked.


522. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA HERRICK.

When I consider, dearest, thou dost stay
But here a-while, to languish and decay,
Like to these garden-glories, which here be
The flowery-sweet resemblances of thee;
With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry:
Would thou hadst ne'er been born, or might'st not die.


523. UPON MISTRESS SUSANNA SOUTHWELL, HER CHEEKS.

Rare are thy cheeks, Susanna, which do show
Ripe cherries smiling, while that others blow.


524. UPON HER EYES.

Clear are her eyes,
Like purest skies,
Discovering from thence
A baby there
That turns each sphere,
Like an Intelligence.

_A baby_, see Note to 38, "To his mistress objecting to him neither
toying nor talking".


525. UPON HER FEET.

Her pretty feet
Like snails did creep
A little out, and then,
As if they played at Bo-Peep,
Did soon draw in again.


526. TO HIS HONOURED FRIEND, SIR JOHN MINCE.

For civil, clean, and circumcised wit,
And for the comely carriage of it,
Thou art the man, the only man best known,
Mark'd for the true wit of a million:
From whom we'll reckon. Wit came in but since
The calculation of thy birth, brave Mince.


527. UPON HIS GREY HAIRS.

Fly me not, though I be grey:
Lady, this I know you'll say;
Better look the roses red
When with white commingled.
Black your hairs are, mine are white;
This begets the more delight,
When things meet most opposite:
As in pictures we descry
Venus standing Vulcan by.


528. ACCUSATION.

If accusation only can draw blood,
None shall be guiltless, be he ne'er so good.


529. PRIDE ALLOWABLE IN POETS.

As thou deserv'st, be proud; then gladly let
The Muse give thee the Delphic coronet.


530. A VOW TO MINERVA.

Goddess, I begin an art;
Come thou in, with thy best part
For to make the texture lie
Each way smooth and civilly;
And a broad-fac'd owl shall be
Offer'd up with vows to thee.

_Civilly_, orderly.
_Owl_, the bird sacred to Athene or Minerva.


534. TO ELECTRA.

'Tis evening, my sweet,
And dark, let us meet;
Long time w'ave here been a-toying,
And never, as yet,
That season could get
Wherein t'ave had an enjoying.

For pity or shame,
Then let not love's flame
Be ever and ever a-spending;
Since now to the port
The path is but short,
And yet our way has no ending.

Time flies away fast,
Our hours do waste,
The while we never remember
How soon our life, here,
Grows old with the year
That dies with the next December.


535. DISCORD NOT DISADVANTAGEOUS.

Fortune no higher project can devise
Than to sow discord 'mongst the enemies.


536. ILL GOVERNMENT.

Preposterous is that government, and rude,
When kings obey the wilder multitude.

_Preposterous_, lit. hind-part before.


537. TO MARIGOLDS.

Give way, and be ye ravish'd by the sun,
And hang the head whenas the act is done,
Spread as he spreads, wax less as he does wane;
And as he shuts, close up to maids again.


538. TO DIANEME.

Give me one kiss
And no more:
If so be this
Makes you poor,
To enrich you,
I'll restore
For that one two
Thousand score.


539. TO JULIA, THE FLAMINICA DIALIS OR QUEEN-PRIEST.

Thou know'st, my Julia, that it is thy turn
This morning's incense to prepare and burn.
The chaplet and Inarculum[L] here be,
With the white vestures, all attending thee.
This day the queen-priest thou art made, t' appease
Love for our very many trespasses.
One chief transgression is, among the rest,
Because with flowers her temple was not dressed;
The next, because her altars did not shine
With daily fires; the last, neglect of wine;
For which her wrath is gone forth to consume
Us all, unless preserved by thy perfume.
Take then thy censer, put in fire, and thus,
O pious priestess! make a peace for us.
For our neglect Love did our death decree;
That we escape. _Redemption comes by thee_.

[L] A twig of a pomegranate, which the queen-priest did use to wear on
her head at sacrificing. (Note in the original edition. )


540. ANACREONTIC.

Born I was to be old,
And for to die here:
After that, in the mould
Long for to lie here.
But before that day comes
Still I be bousing,
For I know in the tombs
There's no carousing.


541. MEAT WITHOUT MIRTH.

Eaten I have; and though I had good cheer,
I did not sup, because no friends were there.
Where mirth and friends are absent when we dine
Or sup, there wants the incense and the wine.


542. LARGE BOUNDS DO BUT BURY US.

All things o'er-ruled are here by chance:
The greatest man's inheritance,
Where'er the lucky lot doth fall,
Serves but for place of burial.


543. UPON URSLEY.

Ursley, she thinks those velvet patches grace
The candid temples of her comely face;
But he will say, whoe'er those circlets seeth,
They be but signs of Ursley's hollow teeth.


544. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSEBY CREW.

Here we securely live and eat
The cream of meat,
And keep eternal fires,
By which we sit, and do divine
As wine
And rage inspires.

If full we charm, then call upon
Anacreon
To grace the frantic thyrse;
And having drunk, we raise a shout
Throughout
To praise his verse.

Then cause we Horace to be read,
Which sung, or said,
A goblet to the brim
Of lyric wine, both swell'd and crown'd,
Around
We quaff to him.

Thus, thus we live, and spend the hours
In wine and flowers,
And make the frolic year,
The month, the week, the instant day
To stay
The longer here.

Come then, brave knight, and see the cell
Wherein I dwell,
And my enchantments too,
Which love and noble freedom is;
And this
Shall fetter you.

Take horse, and come, or be so kind
To send your mind,
Though but in numbers few,
And I shall think I have the heart,
Or part
Of Clipseby Crew.

_Securely_, free from care.
_Thyrse_, a Bacchic staff.
_Instant_, oncoming.
_Numbers_, verses.


545. TO HIS WORTHY KINSMAN, MR. STEPHEN SOAME.
Nor is my number full till I inscribe
Thee, sprightly Soame, one of my righteous tribe;
A tribe of one lip, leaven, and of one
Civil behaviour, and religion;
A stock of saints, where ev'ry one doth wear
A stole of white, and canonised here;
Among which holies be thou ever known,
Brave kinsman, mark'd out with the whiter stone
Which seals thy glory, since I do prefer
Thee here in my eternal calender.


546. TO HIS TOMB-MAKER.

Go I must; when I am gone,
Write but this upon my stone:
Chaste I lived, without a wife,
That's the story of my life.
Strewings need none, every flower
Is in this word, bachelour.


547. GREAT SPIRITS SUPERVIVE.

Our mortal parts may wrapp'd in sear-cloths lie:
_Great spirits never with their bodies die_.


548. NONE FREE FROM FAULT.

Out of the world he must, who once comes in.
_No man exempted is from death, or sin. _


549. UPON HIMSELF BEING BURIED.

Let me sleep this night away,
Till the dawning of the day;
Then at th' opening of mine eyes
I, and all the world, shall rise.


550. PITY TO THE PROSTRATE.

'Tis worse than barbarous cruelty to show
No part of pity on a conquered foe.


552. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY.

Here, here I live with what my board
Can with the smallest cost afford.
Though ne'er so mean the viands be,
They well content my Prew and me.
Or pea, or bean, or wort, or beet,
Whatever comes, content makes sweet.
Here we rejoice, because no rent
We pay for our poor tenement,
Wherein we rest, and never fear
The landlord or the usurer.
The quarter-day does ne'er affright
Our peaceful slumbers in the night.
We eat our own and batten more,
Because we feed on no man's score;
But pity those whose flanks grow great,
Swell'd with the lard of others' meat.
We bless our fortunes when we see
Our own beloved privacy;
And like our living, where we're known
To very few, or else to none.

_Prew_, _i. e. _, his servant, Prudence Baldwin.


553. THE CREDIT OF THE CONQUEROR.

He who commends the vanquished, speaks the power
And glorifies the worthy conqueror.


554. ON HIMSELF.

Some parts may perish, die thou canst not all:
The most of thee shall 'scape the funeral.


556. THE FAIRIES.

If ye will with Mab find grace,
Set each platter in his place;
Rake the fire up, and get
Water in, ere sun be set.
Wash your pails, and cleanse your dairies;
Sluts are loathsome to the fairies;
Sweep your house, who doth not so,
Mab will pinch her by the toe.


557. TO HIS HONOURED FRIEND, M. JOHN WEARE, COUNCILLOR.

Did I or love, or could I others draw
To the indulgence of the rugged law,
The first foundation of that zeal should be
By reading all her paragraphs in thee,
Who dost so fitly with the laws unite,
As if you two were one hermaphrodite.
Nor courts[t] thou her because she's well attended
With wealth, but for those ends she was intended:
Which were,--and still her offices are known,--
_Law is to give to ev'ry one his own_;
To shore the feeble up against the strong,
To shield the stranger and the poor from wrong.
This was the founder's grave and good intent:
To keep the outcast in his tenement,
To free the orphan from that wolf-like man,
Who is his butcher more than guardian;
To dry the widow's tears, and stop her swoons,
By pouring balm and oil into her wounds.
This was the old way; and 'tis yet thy course
To keep those pious principles in force.
Modest I will be; but one word I'll say,
Like to a sound that's vanishing away,
Sooner the inside of thy hand shall grow
Hisped and hairy, ere thy palm shall know
A postern-bribe took, or a forked fee,
To fetter Justice, when she might be free.
_Eggs I'll not shave_; but yet, brave man, if I
Was destin'd forth to golden sovereignty,
A prince I'd be, that I might thee prefer
To be my counsel both and chancellor.

_Hisped_ (_hispidus_), rough with hairs.
_Postern-bribe_, a back-door bribe.
_Forked fee_, a fee from both sides in a case; cp. Ben Jonson's
_Volpone_: "Give forked counsel, take provoking gold on either hand".
_Eggs I'll not shave_, a proverb.


560. THE WATCH.

Man is a watch, wound up at first, but never
Wound up again: once down, he's down for ever.
The watch once down, all motions then do cease;
And man's pulse stop'd, all passions sleep in peace.


561. LINES HAVE THEIR LININGS, AND BOOKS THEIR BUCKRAM.

As in our clothes, so likewise he who looks,
Shall find much farcing buckram in our books.

_Farcing_, stuffing.


562. ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA.

When I behold a forest spread
With silken trees upon thy head,
And when I see that other dress
Of flowers set in comeliness;
When I behold another grace
In the ascent of curious lace,
Which like a pinnacle doth show
The top, and the top-gallant too.
Then, when I see thy tresses bound
Into an oval, square, or round,
And knit in knots far more than I
Can tell by tongue, or true-love tie;
Next, when those lawny films I see
Play with a wild civility,
And all those airy silks to flow,
Alluring me, and tempting so:
I must confess mine eye and heart
Dotes less on Nature than on Art.

_Civility_, order.


564. UPON HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS BRIDGET HERRICK.

Sweet Bridget blush'd, and therewithal
Fresh blossoms from her cheeks did fall.
I thought at first 'twas but a dream,
Till after I had handled them
And smelt them, then they smelt to me
As blossoms of the almond tree.


565. UPON LOVE.

I played with Love, as with the fire
The wanton Satyr did;
Nor did I know, or could descry
What under there was hid.

That Satyr he but burnt his lips;
But mine's the greater smart,
For kissing Love's dissembling chips
The fire scorch'd my heart.

_The wanton Satyr_, see Note.


566. UPON A COMELY AND CURIOUS MAID.

If men can say that beauty dies,
Marbles will swear that here it lies.
If, reader, then thou canst forbear
In public loss to shed a tear,
The dew of grief upon this stone
Will tell thee pity thou hast none.


567. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS FINGER.

One of the five straight branches of my hand
Is lop'd already, and the rest but stand
Expecting when to fall, which soon will be;
First dies the leaf, the bough next, next the tree.


568. UPON IRENE.

Angry if Irene be
But a minute's life with me:
Such a fire I espy
Walking in and out her eye,
As at once I freeze and fry.


569. UPON ELECTRA'S TEARS.

Upon her cheeks she wept, and from those showers
Sprang up a sweet nativity of flowers.




NOTES.




NOTES.




2. _Whither, mad maiden_, etc. From Martial, I. iv. 11, 12:--

Aetherias, lascive, cupis volitare per auras:
I, fuge; sed poteras tutior esse domi.

_But for the Court. _ Cp. Martial, I. iv. 3, 4.

4. _While Brutus standeth by. _ "Brutus and Cato are commonplaces of
examples of severe virtue": Grosart. But Herrick is translating. This is
from Martial, XI. xvi. 9, 10:--

Erubuit posuitque meum Lucretia librum,
Sed coram Bruto; Brute, recede, leget.

8. _When he would have his verses read. _ The thought throughout this
poem is taken from Martial, X. xix. , beginning:--

Nec doctum satis et parum severum,
Sed non rusticulum nimis libellum
Facundo mea Plinio, Thalia,
I perfer:

where the address to Thalia perhaps explains Herrick's "do not _thou_
rehearse". The important lines are:--

Sed ne tempore non tuo disertam
Pulses ebria januam, videto.
. . . . . . . . .
Seras tutior ibis ad lucernas.
Haec hora est tua, cum furit Lyaeus,
Cum regnat rosa, cum madent capilli:
Tunc me vel rigidi legant Catones.

_When laurel spirts i' th' fire. _ Burning bay leaves was a Christmas
observance. Herrick sings:--

"Of crackling laurel, which foresounds
A plenteous harvest to your grounds":

where compare Tibull. II. v. 81-84. It was also used by maids as a love
omen.

_Thyrse . . . sacred Orgies. _ Herrick's glosses show that the passage he
had in mind was Catullus, lxiv. 256-269:--

Harum pars tecta quatiebant cuspide thyrsos
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Pars obscura cavis celebrabant orgia cistis,
Orgia, quae frustra cupiunt audire profani.

10. _No man at one time can be wise and love. _ Amare et sapere vix deo
conceditur. (Publius Syrus. ) The quotation is found in both Burton and
Montaigne.

12. _Who fears to ask_, etc. From Seneca, _Hippol. _ 594-95. Qui timide
rogat . . . docet negare.

15. _Goddess Isis . . . with her scent. _ Cp. Plutarch, _De Iside et
Osiride_, 15.

17. _He acts the crime. _ Seneca: Nil interest faveas sceleri an illud
facias.

18. _Two things odious. _ From Ecclus. xxv. 2.

31. _A Sister . . . about I'll lead. _ "Have we not power to lead about a
sister, a wife? " 1 Cor. ix. 5.

35. _Mercy and Truth live with thee. _ 2 Sam. xv. 20.

38. _To please those babies in your eyes. _ The phrase "babies [_i. e. _,
dolls] in the eyes" is probably only a translation of its metaphor,
involved in the use of the Latin _pupilla_ (a little girl), or "pupil,"
for the central spot of the eye. The metaphor doubtless arose from the
small reflections of the inlooker, which appear in the eyes of the
person gazed at; but we meet with it both intensified, as in the phrase
"to look babies in the eyes" (= to peer amorously), and with its origin
disregarded, as in Herrick, where the "babies" are the pupils, and have
an existence independent of any inlooker.

_Small griefs find tongue. _ Seneca, _Hippol. _ 608:

Curae leves loquuntur, ingentes stupent.