No More Learning

And lastly, see you bring to him
Somewhat peculiar to each limb;
And I charge thee to be known
By n'other face but by thine own.
Let it in love's name be kept sleek,
Yet to be found when he shall seek
It, and not instead of saint
Give up his worth unto the paint;
For, trust me, girl, she over-does
Who by a double proxy woos.
But lest I should forget his bed,
Be sure thou bring a maidenhead.
That is a margarite, which lost,
Thou bring'st unto his bed a frost
Or a cold poison, which his blood
Benumbs like the forgetful flood.
Now for some jewels to supply
The want of earrings' bravery
For public eyes; take only these
Ne'er travelled for beyond the seas;
They're nobly home-bred, yet have price
Beyond the far-fet merchandise:
Obedience, wise distrust, peace, shy
Distance and sweet urbanity;
Safe modesty, lov'd patience, fear
Of offending, temperance, dear
Constancy, bashfulness and all
The virtues less or cardinal,
Take with my blessing, and go forth
Enjewelled with thy native worth.
And now if there a man be found
That looks for such prepared ground,
Let him, but with indifferent skill,
So good a soil bestock and till;
He may ere long have such a wife
Nourish in's breast a tree of life.


MR. ROBERT HERRICK: HIS FAREWELL UNTO POETRY.

I have beheld two lovers in a night
Hatched o'er with moonshine from their stolen delight
(When this to that, and that to this, had given
A kiss to such a jewel of the heaven,
Or while that each from other's breath did drink
Health to the rose, the violet, or pink),
Call'd on the sudden by the jealous mother,
Some stricter mistress or suspicious other,
Urging divorcement (worse than death to these)
By the soon jingling of some sleepy keys,
Part with a hasty kiss; and in that show
How stay they would, yet forced they are to go.
Even such are we, and in our parting do
No otherwise than as those former two
Natures like ours, we who have spent our time
Both from the morning to the evening chime.
Nay, till the bellman of the night had tolled
Past noon of night, yet wear the hours not old
Nor dulled with iron sleep, but have outworn
The fresh and fairest nourish of the morn
With flame and rapture; drinking to the odd
Number of nine which makes us full with God,
And in that mystic frenzy we have hurled,
As with a tempest, nature through the world,
And in a whirlwind twirl'd her home, aghast
At that which in her ecstasy had past;
Thus crowned with rosebuds, sack, thou mad'st me fly
Like fire-drakes, yet didst me no harm thereby.
O thou almighty nature, who didst give
True heat wherewith humanity doth live
Beyond its stinted circle, giving food,
White fame and resurrection to the good;
Shoring them up 'bove ruin till the doom,
The general April of the world doth come
That makes all equal. Many thousands should,
Were't not for thee, have crumbled into mould,
And with their serecloths rotted, not to show
Whether the world such spirits had or no,
Whereas by thee those and a million since,
Nor fate, nor envy, can their fames convince.
Homer, Musæus, Ovid, Maro, more
Of those godful prophets long before
Held their eternal fires, and ours of late
(Thy mercy helping) shall resist strong fate,
Nor stoop to the centre, but survive as long
As fame or rumour hath or trump or tongue;
But unto me be only hoarse, since now
(Heaven and my soul bear record of my vow)
I my desires screw from thee, and direct
Them and my thoughts to that sublim'd respect
And conscience unto priesthood; 'tis not need
(The scarecrow unto mankind) that doth breed
Wiser conclusions in me, since I know
I've more to bear my charge than way to go,
Or had I not, I'd stop the spreading itch
Of craving more, so in conceit be rich;
But 'tis the God of Nature who intends
And shapes my function for more glorious ends.
Kiss, so depart, yet stay a while to see
The lines of sorrow that lie drawn in me
In speech, in picture; no otherwise than when,
Judgment and death denounced 'gainst guilty men,
Each takes a weeping farewell, racked in mind
With joys before and pleasures left behind;
Shaking the head, whilst each to each doth mourn,
With thought they go whence they must ne'er return.
So with like looks, as once the ministrel
Cast, leading his Eurydice through hell,
I strike thy love, and greedily pursue
Thee with mine eyes or in or out of view.
So looked the Grecian orator when sent
From's native country into banishment,
Throwing his eyeballs backward to survey
The smoke of his beloved Attica;
So Tully looked when from the breasts of Rome
The sad soul went, not with his love, but doom,
Shooting his eyedarts 'gainst it to surprise
It, or to draw the city to his eyes.
Such is my parting with thee, and to prove
There was not varnish only in my love,
But substance, lo! receive this pearly tear
Frozen with grief and place it in thine ear.
Then part in name of peace, and softly on
With numerous feet to hoofy Helicon;
And when thou art upon that forked hill
Amongst the thrice three sacred virgins, fill
A full-brimm'd bowl of fury and of rage,
And quaff it to the prophets of our age;
When drunk with rapture curse the blind and lame,
Base ballad-mongers who usurp thy name
And foul thy altar; charm some into frogs,
Some to be rats, and others to be hogs;
Into the loathsom'st shapes thou canst devise
To make fools hate them, only by disguise;
Thus with a kiss of warmth and love I part
Not so, but that some relic in my heart
Shall stand for ever, though I do address
Chiefly myself to what I must profess.
Know yet, rare soul, when my diviner muse
Shall want a handmaid (as she oft will use),
Be ready, thou for me, to wait upon her,
Though as a servant, yet a maid of honour.
The crown of duty is our duty: well
Doing's the fruit of doing well. Farewell.

_Shoring_, copies _soaring_.


A CAROL PRESENTED TO DR. WILLIAMS, BISHOP OF LINCOLN AS A NEW-YEAR'S
GIFT.

Fly hence, pale care, no more remember
Past sorrows with the fled December,
But let each pleasant cheek appear
Smooth as the childhood of the year,
And sing a carol here.
'Twas brave, 'twas brave, could we command the hand
Of youth's swift watch to stand
As you have done your day;
Then should we not decay.
But all we wither, and our light
Is spilt in everlasting night,
Whenas your sight
Shows like the heavens above the moon,
Like an eternal noon
That sees no setting sun.

Keep up those flames, and though you shroud
Awhile your forehead in a cloud,
Do it like the sun to write
In the air a greater text of light;
Welcome to all our vows,
And since you pay
To us this day
So long desir'd,
See we have fir'd
Our holy spikenard, and there's none
But brings his stick of cinnamon,
His eager eye or smoother smile,
And lays it gently on the pile,
Which thus enkindled, we invoke
Your name amidst the sacred smoke.

_Chorus. _ Come then, great Lord.
And see our altar burn
With love of your return,
And not a man here but consumes
His soul to glad you in perfumes.


SONG. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL.

You may vow I'll not forget
To pay the debt
Which to thy memory stands as due
As faith can seal it you;
Take then tribute of my tears,
So long as I have fears
To prompt me I shall ever
Languish and look, but thy return see never.
Oh then to lessen my despair
Print thy lips into the air,
So by this
Means I may kiss thy kiss
Whenas some kind
Wind
Shall hither waft it, and in lieu
My lips shall send a 1000 back to you.


UPON PARTING.

Go hence away, and in thy parting know
'Tis not my voice but Heaven's that bids thee go;
Spring hence thy faith, nor think it ill desert
I find in thee that makes me thus to part.
But voice of fame, and voice of Heaven have thundered
We both were lost, if both of us not sundered.
Fold now thine arms, and in thy last look rear
One sigh of love, and cool it with a tear.
Since part we must, let's kiss; that done, retire
With as cold frost as erst we met with fire;
With such white vows as fate can ne'er dissever,
But truth knit fast; and so, farewell for ever.


UPON MASTER FLETCHER'S INCOMPARABLE PLAYS.

Apollo sings, his harp resounds: give room,
For now behold the golden pomp is come,
Thy pomp of plays which thousands come to see
With admiration both of them and thee.
O volume! worthy, leaf by leaf and cover,
To be with juice of cedar wash'd all over;
Here words with lines and lines with scenes consent
To raise an act to full astonishment;
Here melting numbers, words of power to move
Young men to swoon and maids to die for love.
_Love lies a-bleeding_ here, _Evadne_, there
Swells with brave rage, yet comely everywhere;
Here's _A mad lover_, there that high design
Of _King and no King_, and the rare plot thine.
So that whene'er we circumvolve our eyes,
Such rich, such fresh, such sweet varieties
Ravish our spirits, that entranc'd we see
None writes love's passion in the world like thee.


_THE NEW CHARON:_

UPON THE DEATH OF HENRY, LORD HASTINGS.

_The musical part being set by Mr. Henry Lawes. _

THE SPEAKERS,

CHARON AND EUCOSMIA.

_Euc. _ Charon, O Charon, draw thy boat to th' shore,
And to thy many take in one soul more.
_Cha. _ Who calls? who calls? _Euc. _ One overwhelm'd with ruth;
Have pity either on my tears or youth,
And take me in who am in deep distress;
But first cast off thy wonted churlishness.
_Cha. _ I will be gentle as that air which yields
A breath of balm along the Elysian fields.
Speak, what art thou? _Euc_. One once that had a lover,
Than which thyself ne'er wafted sweeter over.
He was---- _Cha. _ Say what? _Euc. _ Ah me, my woes are deep.
_Cha. _ Prithee relate, while I give ear and weep.
_Euc. _ He was a Hastings; and that one name has
In it all good that is, and ever was.
He was my life, my love, my joy, but died
Some hours before I should have been his bride.
_Chorus. _ Thus, thus the gods celestial still decree,
For human joy contingent misery.
_Euc. _ The hallowed tapers all prepared were,
And Hymen call'd to bless the rites. _Cha. _ Stop there.
_Euc. _ Great are my woes. _Cha. _ And great must that grief be
That makes grim Charon thus to pity thee.
But now come in. _Euc. _ More let me yet relate.
_Cha. _ I cannot stay; more souls for waftage wait
And I must hence. _Euc. _ Yet let me thus much know,
Departing hence, where good and bad souls go?
_Cha. _ Those souls which ne'er were drench'd in pleasure's stream,
The fields of Pluto are reserv'd for them;
Where, dress'd with garlands, there they walk the ground
Whose blessed youth with endless flowers is crown'd.
But such as have been drown'd in this wild sea,
For those is kept the Gulf of Hecate,
Where with their own contagion they are fed,
And there do punish and are punished.
This known, the rest of thy sad story tell
When on the flood that nine times circles hell.
_Chorus. _ We sail along to visit mortals never;
But there to live where love shall last for ever.


EPITAPH ON THE TOMB OF SIR EDWARD GILES AND HIS WIFE IN THE SOUTH AISLE
OF DEAN PRIOR CHURCH, DEVON.

No trust to metals nor to marbles, when
These have their fate and wear away as men;
Times, titles, trophies may be lost and spent,
But virtue rears the eternal monument.
What more than these can tombs or tombstones pay?
But here's the sunset of a tedious day:
These two asleep are: I'll but be undress'd
And so to bed: pray wish us all good rest.




NOTES.




NOTES.


569. _And of any wood ye see, You can make a Mercury. _ Pythagoras
allegorically said that Mercury's statue could not be made of every sort
of wood: cp. Rabelais, iv. 62.

575. _The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium. _ An earlier
version of this poem was printed in the 1640 edition of Shakespeare's
poems under the title, _His Mistris Shade_, having been licensed for
separate publication at Stationers' Hall the previous year. The variants
are numerous, and some of them important. l. 1, _of silver_ for _with
silv'rie_; l. 3, on the Banks for _in the Meads_; l. 8, _Spikenard
through_ for _Storax from_; l. 10 reads: "_Of mellow_ Apples, _ripened_
Plums _and_ Pears": l. 17, the order of "naked younglings, handsome
striplings" is reversed; in place of l. 20 we have:--

"So soon as each his dangling locks hath crown'd
With Rosie Chaplets, Lilies, Pansies red,
Soft Saffron Circles to perfume the head";

l. 23, _to_ for _too unto_; l. 24, _their_ for _our_; ll. 29, 30:--

"Unto the Prince of Shades, whom once his Pen
Entituled the Grecian Prince of Men";

l. 31, _thereupon_ for _and that done_; l. 36, _render him true_ for
_show him truly_; l. 37, _will_ for _shall_; l. 38, "Where both may
_laugh_, both drink, _both_ rage together"; l. 48, _Amphitheatre_ for
_spacious theatre_; l. 49, _synod_ for _glories_, followed by:--

"crown'd with sacred Bays
And flatt'ring _joy, we'll have to_ recite their plays,
_Shakespeare and Beamond_, Swans to whom _the Spheres_
Listen while they _call back the former year[s]
To teach the truth of scenes_, and more for thee,
There yet remains, _brave soul_, than thou can'st see,"
etc. ;

l. 56, _illustrious for capacious_; l. 57, _shall be_ for _now is_
[Jonson died 1637]; ll. 59-61:--

"To be of that high Hierarchy where none
But brave souls take illumination
Immediately from heaven; but hark the cock," etc. ;

l. 62, _feel_ for _see_; l. 63, _through_ for _from_.

579. _My love will fit each history. _ Cp. Ovid, _Amor. _ II. iv. 44:
Omnibus historiis se meus aptat amor.

580. _The sweets of love are mixed with tears. _ Cp. Propert. I. xii. 16:
Nonnihil adspersis gaudet Amor lacrimis.

583. _Whom this morn sees most fortunate_, etc. Seneca, _Thyest. _ 613:
Quem dies vidit veniens superbum Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem.

586. _Night hides our thefts_, etc. Ovid, _Ars Am. _ i. 249:--

Nocte latent mendæ vitioque ignoscitur omni,
Horaque formosam quamlibet illa facit.

590. _To his brother-in-law, Master John Wingfield. _ Of Brantham,
Suffolk, husband of the poet's sister, Mercy. See 818, and Sketch of
Herrick's Life in vol. i.

599. _Upon Lucia. _ Cp. "The Resolution" in _Speculum Amantis_, ed. A. H.
Bullen.

604. _Old Religion. _ Certainly not Roman Catholicism, though Jonson was
a Catholic. Herrick uses the noun and its adjective rather curiously of
the dead: cp. 82, "To the reverend shade of his religious Father," and
138, "When thou shalt laugh at my religious dust". There may be
something of this use here, or we may refer to his ancient cult of
Jonson. But the use of the phrase in 870 makes the exact shade of
meaning difficult to fix.

605. _Riches to be but burdens to the mind. _ Seneca _De Provid. _ 6:
Democritus divitias projecit, onus illas bonae mentis existimans.

607. _Who covets more is evermore a slave. _ Hor. I. _Ep. _ x. 41: Serviet
aeternum qui parvo nesciet uti.

615. _No Wrath of Men. _ Cp. Hor. _Od. _ III. iii. 1-8.

616. _To the Maids to walk abroad. _ Printed in _Witts Recreations_,
1650, under the title: _Abroad with the Maids_.

618. _Mistress Elizabeth Lee, now Lady Tracy.
_ Elizabeth, daughter of
Thomas, first Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh, in Warwickshire, married John,
third Viscount Tracy. She survived her husband two years, and died in
1688.

624. _Poets. _ _Wantons we are_, etc. From Ovid, _Trist. _ ii. 353-4:--

Crede mihi, mores distant a carmine nostri:
Vita verecunda est, Musa jocosa, mihi.

625. _'Tis cowardice to bite the buried. _ Cp. Ben Jonson, _The
Poetaster_, I. 1: "Envy the living, not the dead, doth bite"; perhaps
from Ovid, _Am. _ I. xv. 39: Pascitur in vivis livor; post fata quiescit.

626. _Noble Westmoreland. _ See Note to 112.

_Gallant Newark. _ Robert Pierrepoint was created Viscount Newark in 1627
and Earl of Kingston in the following year. But Herrick is perhaps
addressing his son, Henry Pierrepoint, afterwards Marquis of Dorchester
(see 962 and Note), who during the first Earl of Kingston's life would
presumably have borne his second title.

633. _Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle love. _ Ovid, _Ars Am. _
ii. 152: Dulcibus est verbis mollis alendus amor.

639. _Fates revolve no flax they've spun. _ Seneca, _Herc. Fur. _ 1812:
Duræ peragunt pensa sorores, Nec sua retro fila revolvunt.

642. _Palms . . . gems. _ A Latinism. Cp. Ovid, _Fasti_, i. 152: Et nova de
gravido palmite gemma tumet.

645. _Upon Tears. _ Cp. S. Bernard: Pœnitentium lacrimæ vinum angelorum.

649. _Upon Lucy. _ Printed in _Witts Recreations_, 1650, under the title,
_On Betty_.

653. _To th' number five or nine. _ Probably Herrick is mistaking the
references in Greek and Latin poets to the mixing of their wine and
water (_e. g. _, Hor. _Od. _ III. xix. 11-17) for the drinking of so many
cups.

654. _Long-looked-for comes at last. _ Cp. G. Herbert, preface to Sibbes'
Funeral Sermon on Sir Thomas Crew (1638): "That ancient adage, 'Quod
differtur non aufertur' for 'Long-looked-for comes at last'".

655. _The morrow's life too late is_, etc. Mart. I. xvi. 12: Sera nimis
vita est crastina: vive hodie.

662. _O happy life_, etc. From Virg. _Georg. _ ii. 458-9:--

O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint
Agricolas.

It is not uncharacteristic that these fervid praises of country life
were left unfinished.

664. _Arthur Bartly. _ Not yet identified.

665. _Let her Lucrece all day be. _ From Martial XI. civ. 21, 22:--

Lucretia toto
Sis licet usque die: Laida nocte volo.

_Neither will Famish me, nor overfill. _ Mart. I. lviii. 4: Nec volo quod
cruciat, nec volo quod satiat.

667. _Be't for my Bridal or my Burial. _ Cp. Brand, vol. ii. , and Coles'
_Introduction to the Knowledge of Plants_: "Rosemary and bayes are used
by the commons both at funerals and weddings".

672. _Kings ought to be more lov'd than fear'd. _ Seneca, _Octavia_, 459:
Decet timeri Cæsarem. At plus diligi.

673. _To Mr. Denham, on his prospective poem. _ Sir John Denham
published in 1642 his _Cooper's Hill_, a poem on the view over the
Thames towards London, from a hill near Windsor.

675. _Their fashion is, but to say no_, etc. Cp. Montaigne's _Essais_,
II. 3, p. 51; Florio's tr. p. 207: "Let it suffice that in doing it they
say no and take it".

676. _Love is maintained by wealth. _ Ovid, _Rem. Am. _ 746: Divitiis
alitur luxuriosus amor.

679. _Nero commanded, but withdrew his eyes. _ Tacit. _Agric. _ 45: Nero
subtraxit oculos, jussitque scelera, non spectavit.

683. _But a just measure both of Heat and Cold. _ This is a version of
the medieval doctrine of the four humours. So Chaucer says of his Doctor
of Physic:--

"He knew the cause of every maladye,
Were it of hoot or cold, or moyste, or drye,
And where engendered and of what humour".

684. _'Gainst thou go'st a-mothering. _ The Epistle for Mid-Lent Sunday
was from Galat. iv. 21, etc. , and contained the words: "Jerusalem, quæ
est Mater nostra". On that Sunday people made offerings at their Mother
Church. After the Reformation the natural mother was substituted for the
spiritual, and the day was set apart for visiting relations. Excellent
simnel cakes (Low Lat. , _siminellus_, fine flour) are still made in the
North, where the current derivation of the word is from _Sim_ and
_Nell_!

685. _To the King. _ Probably written in 1645, when Charles was for a
short time in the West.

689. _Too much she gives to some, enough to none. _ Mart. XII. x. ;
Fortuna multis dat nimis, satis nulli.

696. _Men mind no state in sickness. _ There is a general resemblance in
this poem to the latter part of Hor. III. _Od. _ i. , but I have an uneasy
sense that Herrick is translating.

697. _Adversity. _ Printed in _Witts Recreations_, 1650.

702. _Mean things overcome mighty. _ Cp. 486 and Note.

706. _How roses came red. _ Cp. Burton, _Anat. Mel. _ III. ii. 3:
"Constantine (_Agricult. _ xi. 18) makes Cupid himself to be a great
dancer: by the same token that he was capering among the gods, he flung
down a bowl of nectar, which, distilling upon the white rose, ever since
made it red".

709. _Tears and Laughter. _ Bishop Jebb quotes a Latin couplet inscribed
on an old inn at Four Crosses, Staffordshire:--

Fleres si scires unum tua tempora mensem:
Rides, cum non sit forsitan una dies.

710. _Tully says. _ Cic. _Tusc. Disp. _ III. ii. 3: Gloria est frequens de
aliquo, fama cum laude.

713. _His return to London. _ Written at the same time as his _Farewell
to Dean Bourn_, _i. e. _, after his ejection in 1648, the year of the
publication of the _Hesperides_.

715. _No pack like poverty. _ Burton, _Anat. Mel. _ iii. 3: Οὐδὲν πενίας
βαρύτερόν ἐστι φόρτιον. "No burden, saith Menander, is so intolerable as
poverty. "

718. _As many laws_, etc. Tacit. _Ann. _ iii. 27: Corruptissima in
republica plurimæ leges.

723. _Lay down some silver pence. _ Cp. Bishop Corbet's _The Faeryes
Farewell_:--

"And though they sweep their hearths no less
Than maids were wont to do,
Yet who of late for cleanliness
Finds sixpence in her shoe?