_
Mournful
maid, farewell to you;
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.
Robert Herrick
FAIR SHOWS DECEIVE.
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to call
Two pretty girls to play withal:
Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,
And on a sudden both were drown'd.
What credit can we give to seas,
Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?
938. HIS WISH.
Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;
Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:
To these a comely offspring I desire,
Singing about my everlasting fire.
_Hind_, country servant.
939. UPON JULIA WASHING HERSELF IN THE RIVER.
How fierce was I, when I did see
My Julia wash herself in thee!
So lilies thorough crystal look:
So purest pebbles in the brook:
As in the river Julia did,
Half with a lawn of water hid.
Into thy streams myself I threw,
And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;
And more had done, it is confess'd,
Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
940. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS.
Though frankincense the deities require,
_We must not give all to the hallowed fire_.
Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,
As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.
941. UPON CLUNN.
A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,
Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:
And seems half ravish'd, when he looks upon
That bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;
This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;
This counterchange of pearl and diamond.
What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,
Whenas his own still out at elbows is?
942. UPON CUPID.
Love, like a beggar, came to me
With hose and doublet torn:
His shirt bedangling from his knee,
With hat and shoes outworn.
He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,
And meat too, for his need:
Of which, when he had fully fed,
He wished me all good speed.
Away he went, but as he turn'd
(In faith I know not how)
He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],
And am tormented now.
Love's silent flames and fires obscure
Then crept into my heart;
And though I saw no bow, I'm sure
His finger was the dart.
946. AN HYMN TO LOVE.
I will confess
With cheerfulness,
Love is a thing so likes me,
That let her lay
On me all day,
I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.
I will not, I,
Now blubb'ring, cry,
It, ah! too late repents me,
That I did fall
To love at all,
Since love so much contents me.
No, no, I'll be
In fetters free:
While others they sit wringing
Their hands for pain,
I'll entertain
The wounds of love with singing.
With flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee:
Which done; no more
I'll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.
947. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. CHARLES COTTON.
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood.
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be
Not so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel than thy praise.
948. WOMEN USELESS.
What need we marry women, when
Without their use we may have men,
And such as will in short time be
For murder fit, or mutiny?
As Cadmus once a new way found,
By throwing teeth into the ground;
From which poor seed, and rudely sown,
Sprung up a war-like nation:
So let us iron, silver, gold,
Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;
And we shall see in little space
Rise up of men a fighting race.
If this can be, say then, what need
Have we of women or their seed?
949. LOVE IS A SYRUP.
Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we see
Sick and surcharg'd with this satiety,
Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly prove
_There's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love_.
950. LEAVEN.
Love is a leaven; and a loving kiss
The leaven of a loving sweetheart is.
951. REPLETION.
Physicians say repletion springs
More from the sweet than sour things.
952. ON HIMSELF.
Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:
And weep for me, lost in an endless night.
Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,
Who writ for many. Benedicite.
953. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY.
No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,
If favour or occasion help not him.
954. ON HIMSELF.
Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone
Here now I rest under this marble stone:
In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.
955. TO M. LEONARD WILLAN, HIS PECULIAR FRIEND.
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'd
This line about, live thou throughout the world;
Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,
What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.
Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fall
From these to pen the pleasing pastoral:
Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;
Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:
For which I might extol thee, but speak less,
Because thyself art coming to the press:
And then should I in praising thee be slow,
Posterity will pay thee what I owe.
956. TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, M. JOHN HALL, STUDENT OF GRAY'S INN.
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bring
Thee less to taste than to drink up their spring,
That none hereafter should be thought, or be
A poet, or a poet-like but thee?
What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,
At twice ten years, a prime and public one?
Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whence
Thou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,
That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,
And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.
Put on thy laurel then; and in that trim
Be thou Apollo or the type of him:
Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,
And next to him be master of the choir.
957. TO JULIA.
Offer thy gift; but first the law commands
Thee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:
Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,
Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.
958. TO THE MOST COMELY AND PROPER M. ELIZABETH FINCH.
Handsome you are, and proper you will be
Despite of all your infortunity:
Live long and lovely, but yet grow no less
In that your own prefixed comeliness:
Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,
Leave others beauty to set up withal.
_Proper_, well-made.
960. TO HIS BOOK.
If hap it must, that I must see thee lie
Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:
With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,
I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;
And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest
With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.
_Absyrtus-like_, the brother of Medea, cut in pieces by her that his
father might be delayed by gathering his limbs.
961. TO THE KING, UPON HIS WELCOME TO HAMPTON COURT. SET AND SUNG.
Welcome, great Caesar, welcome now you are
As dearest peace after destructive war:
Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease
After our long and peevish sicknesses.
O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come
To repossess once more your long'd-for home.
A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighs
Of beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.
Enter and prosper; while our eyes do wait
For an ascendent throughly auspicate:
Under which sign we may the former stone
Lay of our safety's new foundation:
That done, O Caesar! live and be to us
Our fate, our fortune, and our genius;
To whose free knees we may our temples tie
As to a still protecting deity:
That should you stir, we and our altars too
May, great Augustus, go along with you.
_Chor. _ Long live the King! and to accomplish this,
We'll from our own add far more years to his.
_Ascendent_, the most influential position of a planet in astrology.
_Auspicate_, propitious.
962. ULTIMUS HEROUM: OR, TO THE MOST LEARNED, AND TO THE RIGHT
HONOURABLE, HENRY, MARQUIS OF DORCHESTER.
And as time past when Cato the severe
Enter'd the circumspacious theatre,
In reverence of his person everyone
Stood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;
E'en so my numbers will astonished be
If but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.
963. TO HIS MUSE; ANOTHER TO THE SAME.
Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have access
To kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;
Or else because th'art like a modest bride,
Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.
966. TO HIS LEARNED FRIEND, M. JO. HARMAR, PHYSICIAN TO THE COLLEGE OF
WESTMINSTER.
When first I find those numbers thou dost write,
To be most soft, terse, sweet, and perpolite:
Next, when I see thee tow'ring in the sky,
In an expansion no less large than high;
Then, in that compass, sailing here and there,
And with circumgyration everywhere;
Following with love and active heat thy game,
And then at last to truss the epigram;
I must confess, distinction none I see
Between Domitian's Martial then, and thee.
But this I know, should Jupiter again
Descend from heaven to reconverse with men;
The Roman language full, and superfine,
If Jove would speak, he would accept of thine.
_Perpolite_, well polished.
967. UPON HIS SPANIEL TRACY.
Now thou art dead, no eye shall ever see,
For shape and service, spaniel like to thee.
This shall my love do, give thy sad death one
Tear, that deserves of me a million.
968. THE DELUGE.
Drowning, drowning, I espy
Coming from my Julia's eye:
'Tis some solace in our smart,
To have friends to bear a part:
I have none; but must be sure
Th' inundation to endure.
Shall not times hereafter tell
This for no mean miracle?
When the waters by their fall
Threaten'd ruin unto all,
Yet the deluge here was known
Of a world to drown but one.
971. STRENGTH TO SUPPORT SOVEREIGNTY.
Let kings and rulers learn this line from me:
_Where power is weak, unsafe is majesty_.
973. CRUTCHES.
Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop;
Three zodiacs filled more, I shall stoop;
Let crutches then provided be
To shore up my debility.
Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry,
"A ruin, underpropp'd, am I".
Don will I then my beadsman's gown,
And when so feeble I am grown,
As my weak shoulders cannot bear
The burden of a grasshopper,
Yet with the bench of aged sires,
When I and they keep termly fires,
With my weak voice I'll sing, or say,
Some odes I made of Lucia:
Then will I heave my wither'd hand
To Jove the mighty, for to stand
Thy faithful friend, and to pour down
Upon thee many a benison.
_Zodiacs_, used as symbols of the astronomical year.
_Beadsman's_, almshouseman's.
974. TO JULIA.
Holy waters hither bring
For the sacred sprinkling:
Baptise me and thee, and so
Let us to the altar go,
And, ere we our rites commence,
Wash our hands in innocence.
Then I'll be the Rex Sacrorum,
Thou the Queen of Peace and Quorum.
_Quorum_, _i. e. _, quorum of justices of the peace, sportively added
for the rhyme's sake.
975. UPON CASE.
Case is a lawyer, that ne'er pleads alone,
But when he hears the like confusion,
As when the disagreeing Commons throw
About their House, their clamorous Aye or No:
Then Case, as loud as any serjeant there,
Cries out: My lord, my lord, the case is clear.
But when all's hush'd, Case, than a fish more mute,
Bestirs his hand, but starves in hand the suit.
976. TO PERENNA.
I a dirge will pen to thee;
Thou a trentall make for me:
That the monks and friars together,
Here may sing the rest of either:
Next, I'm sure, the nuns will have
Candlemas to grace the grave.
_Trentall_, services for the dead.
977. TO HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, M. SUSANNA HERRICK.
The person crowns the place; your lot doth fall
Last, yet to be with these a principal.
Howe'er it fortuned; know for truth, I meant
You a fore-leader in this testament.
978. UPON THE LADY CREW.
This stone can tell the story of my life,
What was my birth, to whom I was a wife:
In teeming years, how soon my sun was set.
Where now I rest, these may be known by jet.
For other things, my many children be
The best and truest chronicles of me.
979. ON TOMASIN PARSONS.
Grow up in beauty, as thou dost begin,
And be of all admired, Tomasin.
980. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE.
Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and mistletoe;
Down with the holly, ivy, all,
Wherewith ye dressed the Christmas Hall:
That so the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind:
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected, there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.
981. SUSPICION MAKES SECURE.
He that will live of all cares dispossess'd,
Must shun the bad, aye, and suspect the best.
983. TO HIS KINSMAN, M. THO. HERRICK, WHO DESIRED TO BE IN HIS BOOK.
Welcome to this my college, and though late
Thou'st got a place here (standing candidate)
It matters not, since thou art chosen one
Here of my great and good foundation.
984. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO: LACON AND THYRSIS.
_Lacon. _ For a kiss or two, confess,
What doth cause this pensiveness,
Thou most lovely neat-herdess?
Why so lonely on the hill?
Why thy pipe by thee so still,
That erewhile was heard so shrill?
Tell me, do thy kine now fail
To full fill the milking-pail?
Say, what is't that thou dost ail?
_Thyr. _ None of these; but out, alas!
A mischance is come to pass,
And I'll tell thee what it was:
See, mine eyes are weeping-ripe.
_Lacon. _ Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe.
_Thyr. _ I have lost my lovely steer,
That to me was far more dear
Than these kine which I milk here:
Broad of forehead, large of eye,
Party-colour'd like a pie;
Smooth in each limb as a die;
Clear of hoof, and clear of horn:
Sharply pointed as a thorn,
With a neck by yoke unworn;
From the which hung down by strings,
Balls of cowslips, daisy rings,
Interplac'd with ribbonings:
Faultless every way for shape;
Not a straw could him escape;
Ever gamesome as an ape,
But yet harmless as a sheep.
Pardon, Lacon, if I weep;
_Tears will spring where woes are deep_.
Now, ay me! ay me! Last night
Came a mad dog and did bite,
Aye, and kill'd my dear delight.
_Lacon. _ Alack, for grief!
_Thyr. _ But I'll be brief.
Hence I must, for time doth call
Me, and my sad playmates all,
To his ev'ning funeral.
Live long, Lacon, so adieu!
_Lacon.
_ Mournful maid, farewell to you;
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.
_Pie_, _i. e. _, a magpie.
985. UPON SAPPHO.
Look upon Sappho's lip, and you will swear
There is a love-like leaven rising there.
988. A BACCHANALIAN VERSE.
Drink up
Your cup,
But not spill wine;
For if you
Do,
'Tis an ill sign;
That we
Foresee
You are cloy'd here,
If so, no
Ho,
But avoid here.
989. CARE A GOOD KEEPER.
_Care keeps the conquest; 'tis no less renown
To keep a city than to win a town. _
990. RULES FOR OUR REACH.
Men must have bounds how far to walk; for we
Are made far worse by lawless liberty.
991. TO BIANCA.
Ah, Bianca! now I see
It is noon and past with me:
In a while it will strike one;
Then, Bianca, I am gone.
Some effusions let me have
Offer'd on my holy grave;
Then, Bianca, let me rest
With my face towards the East.
992. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER.
As is your name, so is your comely face
Touch'd everywhere with such diffused grace,
As that in all that admirable round
There is not one least solecism found;
And as that part, so every portion else
Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels.
993. ANACREONTIC.
I must
Not trust
Here to any;
Bereav'd,
Deceiv'd
By so many:
As one
Undone
By my losses;
Comply
Will I
With my crosses;
Yet still
I will
Not be grieving,
Since thence
And hence
Comes relieving.
But this
Sweet is
In our mourning;
Times bad
And sad
Are a-turning:
And he
Whom we
See dejected,
Next day
We may
See erected.
994. MORE MODEST, MORE MANLY.
'Tis still observ'd those men most valiant are,
That are most modest ere they come to war.
995. NOT TO COVET MUCH WHERE LITTLE IS THE CHARGE.
Why should we covet much, whenas we know
W'ave more to bear our charge than way to go?
996. ANACREONTIC VERSE.
Brisk methinks I am, and fine
When I drink my cap'ring wine:
Then to love I do incline,
When I drink my wanton wine:
And I wish all maidens mine,
When I drink my sprightly wine:
Well I sup and well I dine,
When I drink my frolic wine;
But I languish, lower, and pine,
When I want my fragrant wine.
998. PATIENCE IN PRINCES.
_Kings must not use the axe for each offence:
Princes cure some faults by their patience. _
999. FEAR GETS FORCE.
_Despair takes heart, when there's no hope to speed:
The coward then takes arms and does the deed. _
1000. PARCEL-GILT POETRY.
Let's strive to be the best; the gods, we know it,
Pillars and men, hate an indifferent poet.
1001. UPON LOVE, BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Like and dislike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Stroke ye to strike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love will befool ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
Ans. Heat ye to cool ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love gifts will send ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Stock ye to spend ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love will fulfil ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Kiss ye to kill ye.
1002. TO THE LORD HOPTON, ON HIS FIGHT IN CORNWALL.
Go on, brave Hopton, to effectuate that
Which we, and times to come, shall wonder at.
Lift up thy sword; next, suffer it to fall,
And by that one blow set an end to all.
1003. HIS GRANGE.
How well contented in this private grange
Spend I my life, that's subject unto change:
Under whose roof with moss-work wrought, there I
Kiss my brown wife and black posterity.
_Grange_, a farmstead.
1004. LEPROSY IN HOUSES.
When to a house I come, and see
The Genius wasteful, more than free:
The servants thumbless, yet to eat
With lawless tooth the flour of wheat:
The sons to suck the milk of kine,
More than the teats of discipline:
The daughters wild and loose in dress,
Their cheeks unstained with shamefac'dness:
The husband drunk, the wife to be
A bawd to incivility;
I must confess, I there descry,
A house spread through with leprosy.
_Thumbless_, lazy: cp. painful thumb, _supra_.
1005. GOOD MANNERS AT MEAT.
This rule of manners I will teach my guests:
To come with their own bellies unto feasts;
Not to eat equal portions, but to rise
Farced with the food that may themselves suffice.
_Farced_, stuffed.
1006. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION.
Anthea laugh'd, and fearing lest excess
Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness,
She with a dainty blush rebuk'd her face,
And call'd each line back to his rule and space.
1007. COMFORTS IN CROSSES.
Be not dismayed though crosses cast thee down;
Thy fall is but the rising to a crown.
1008. SEEK AND FIND.
_Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
Nothing's so hard but search will find it out. _
1009. REST.
On with thy work, though thou be'st hardly press'd:
_Labour is held up by the hope of rest_.
1010. LEPROSY IN CLOTHES.
When flowing garments I behold
Inspir'd with purple, pearl and gold,
I think no other, but I see
In them a glorious leprosy
That does infect and make the rent
More mortal in the vestiment.
_As flowery vestures do descry
The wearer's rich immodesty:
So plain and simple clothes do show
Where virtue walks, not those that flow. _
1012. GREAT MALADIES, LONG MEDICINES.
_To an old sore a long cure must go on:
Great faults require great satisfaction. _
1013. HIS ANSWER TO A FRIEND.
You ask me what I do, and how I live?
And, noble friend, this answer I must give:
Drooping, I draw on to the vaults of death,
O'er which you'll walk, when I am laid beneath.
1014. THE BEGGAR.
Shall I a daily beggar be,
For love's sake asking alms of thee?
Still shall I crave, and never get
A hope of my desired bit?
Ah, cruel maids! I'll go my way,
Whereas, perchance, my fortunes may
Find out a threshold or a door
That may far sooner speed the poor:
Where thrice we knock, and none will hear,
Cold comfort still I'm sure lives there.
1015. BASTARDS.
Our bastard children are but like to plate
Made by the coiners--illegitimate.
1016. HIS CHANGE.
My many cares and much distress
Has made me like a wilderness;
Or, discompos'd, I'm like a rude
And all confused multitude:
Out of my comely manners worn,
And, as in means, in mind all torn.
1017. THE VISION.
Methought I saw, as I did dream in bed,
A crawling vine about Anacreon's head.
Flushed was his face; his hairs with oil did shine;
And, as he spake, his mouth ran o'er with wine.
Tippled he was, and tippling lisped withal;
And lisping reeled, and reeling like to fall.
A young enchantress close by him did stand,
Tapping his plump thighs with a myrtle wand:
She smil'd; he kiss'd; and kissing, cull'd her too,
And being cup-shot, more he could not do.
For which, methought, in pretty anger she
Snatched off his crown, and gave the wreath to me;
Since when, methinks, my brains about do swim,
And I am wild and wanton like to him.
_Cull'd_, embraced.
_Cup-shot_, drunk.
1018. A VOW TO VENUS.
Happily I had a sight
Of my dearest dear last night;
Make her this day smile on me,
And I'll roses give to thee.
1019. ON HIS BOOK.
The bound, almost, now of my book I see,
But yet no end of these therein, or me:
Here we begin new life, while thousands quite
Are lost, and theirs, in everlasting night.
1020. A SONNET OF PERILLA.
Then did I live when I did see
Perilla smile on none but me.
But, ah! by stars malignant crossed,
The life I got I quickly lost;
But yet a way there doth remain
For me embalm'd to live again,
And that's to love me; in which state
I'll live as one regenerate.
1021. BAD MAY BE BETTER.
Man may at first transgress, but next do well:
_Vice doth in some but lodge a while, not dwell_.
1022. POSTING TO PRINTING.
Let others to the printing press run fast;
Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste.
1023. RAPINE BRINGS RUIN.
What's got by justice is established sure:
_No kingdoms got by rapine long endure_.
1024. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE.
What needs complaints,
When she a place
Has with the race
Of saints?
In endless mirth,
She thinks not on
What's said or done
In earth.
She sees no tears,
Or any tone
Of thy deep groan
She hears:
Nor does she mind,
Or think on't now,
That ever thou
Wast kind;
But chang'd above,
She likes not there.
As she did here,
Thy love.
Forbear, therefore,
And lull asleep
Thy woes, and weep
No more.
1026. SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY, OR THE MORROW AFTER TWELFTH DAY.
Partly work and partly play
Ye must on S. Distaff's day:
From the plough soon free your team,
Then come home and fodder them.
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax and fire the tow;
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maidenhair.
Bring in pails of water, then,
Let the maids bewash the men.
Give S. Distaff all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night;
And next morrow everyone
To his own vocation.
_Plackets_, petticoats.
1027. SUFFERANCE.
In the hope of ease to come,
Let's endure one martyrdom.
1028. HIS TEARS TO THAMESIS.
I send, I send here my supremest kiss
To thee, my silver-footed Thamesis.
No more shall I reiterate thy Strand,
Whereon so many stately structures stand:
Nor in the summer's sweeter evenings go
To bathe in thee, as thousand others do;
No more shall I along thy crystal glide
In barge with boughs and rushes beautifi'd,
With soft-smooth virgins for our chaste disport,
To Richmond, Kingston, and to Hampton Court.
Never again shall I with finny oar
Put from, or draw unto the faithful shore:
And landing here, or safely landing there,
Make way to my beloved Westminster,
Or to the golden Cheapside, where the earth
Of Julia Herrick gave to me my birth.
May all clean nymphs and curious water-dames
With swan-like state float up and down thy streams:
No drought upon thy wanton waters fall
To make them lean and languishing at all.
No ruffling winds come hither to disease
Thy pure and silver-wristed Naiades.
Keep up your state, ye streams; and as ye spring,
Never make sick your banks by surfeiting.
Grow young with tides, and though I see ye never,
Receive this vow, so fare ye well for ever.
_Reiterate_, retread.
1029. PARDONS.
Those ends in war the best contentment bring,
_Whose peace is made up with a pardoning_.
1030. PEACE NOT PERMANENT.
_Great cities seldom rest; if there be none
T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home. _
1031. TRUTH AND ERROR.
_'Twixt truth and error there's this difference known;
Error is fruitful, truth is only one. _
1032. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE.
Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to call
Two pretty girls to play withal:
Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,
And on a sudden both were drown'd.
What credit can we give to seas,
Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?
938. HIS WISH.
Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;
Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:
To these a comely offspring I desire,
Singing about my everlasting fire.
_Hind_, country servant.
939. UPON JULIA WASHING HERSELF IN THE RIVER.
How fierce was I, when I did see
My Julia wash herself in thee!
So lilies thorough crystal look:
So purest pebbles in the brook:
As in the river Julia did,
Half with a lawn of water hid.
Into thy streams myself I threw,
And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;
And more had done, it is confess'd,
Had not thy waves forbade the rest.
940. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS.
Though frankincense the deities require,
_We must not give all to the hallowed fire_.
Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,
As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.
941. UPON CLUNN.
A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,
Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:
And seems half ravish'd, when he looks upon
That bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;
This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;
This counterchange of pearl and diamond.
What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,
Whenas his own still out at elbows is?
942. UPON CUPID.
Love, like a beggar, came to me
With hose and doublet torn:
His shirt bedangling from his knee,
With hat and shoes outworn.
He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,
And meat too, for his need:
Of which, when he had fully fed,
He wished me all good speed.
Away he went, but as he turn'd
(In faith I know not how)
He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],
And am tormented now.
Love's silent flames and fires obscure
Then crept into my heart;
And though I saw no bow, I'm sure
His finger was the dart.
946. AN HYMN TO LOVE.
I will confess
With cheerfulness,
Love is a thing so likes me,
That let her lay
On me all day,
I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.
I will not, I,
Now blubb'ring, cry,
It, ah! too late repents me,
That I did fall
To love at all,
Since love so much contents me.
No, no, I'll be
In fetters free:
While others they sit wringing
Their hands for pain,
I'll entertain
The wounds of love with singing.
With flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee:
Which done; no more
I'll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.
947. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. CHARLES COTTON.
For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood.
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be
Not so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel than thy praise.
948. WOMEN USELESS.
What need we marry women, when
Without their use we may have men,
And such as will in short time be
For murder fit, or mutiny?
As Cadmus once a new way found,
By throwing teeth into the ground;
From which poor seed, and rudely sown,
Sprung up a war-like nation:
So let us iron, silver, gold,
Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;
And we shall see in little space
Rise up of men a fighting race.
If this can be, say then, what need
Have we of women or their seed?
949. LOVE IS A SYRUP.
Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we see
Sick and surcharg'd with this satiety,
Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly prove
_There's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love_.
950. LEAVEN.
Love is a leaven; and a loving kiss
The leaven of a loving sweetheart is.
951. REPLETION.
Physicians say repletion springs
More from the sweet than sour things.
952. ON HIMSELF.
Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:
And weep for me, lost in an endless night.
Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,
Who writ for many. Benedicite.
953. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY.
No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,
If favour or occasion help not him.
954. ON HIMSELF.
Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone
Here now I rest under this marble stone:
In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.
955. TO M. LEONARD WILLAN, HIS PECULIAR FRIEND.
I will be short, and having quickly hurl'd
This line about, live thou throughout the world;
Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,
What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.
Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fall
From these to pen the pleasing pastoral:
Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;
Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:
For which I might extol thee, but speak less,
Because thyself art coming to the press:
And then should I in praising thee be slow,
Posterity will pay thee what I owe.
956. TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, M. JOHN HALL, STUDENT OF GRAY'S INN.
Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bring
Thee less to taste than to drink up their spring,
That none hereafter should be thought, or be
A poet, or a poet-like but thee?
What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,
At twice ten years, a prime and public one?
Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whence
Thou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,
That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,
And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.
Put on thy laurel then; and in that trim
Be thou Apollo or the type of him:
Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,
And next to him be master of the choir.
957. TO JULIA.
Offer thy gift; but first the law commands
Thee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:
Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,
Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.
958. TO THE MOST COMELY AND PROPER M. ELIZABETH FINCH.
Handsome you are, and proper you will be
Despite of all your infortunity:
Live long and lovely, but yet grow no less
In that your own prefixed comeliness:
Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,
Leave others beauty to set up withal.
_Proper_, well-made.
960. TO HIS BOOK.
If hap it must, that I must see thee lie
Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:
With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,
I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;
And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest
With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.
_Absyrtus-like_, the brother of Medea, cut in pieces by her that his
father might be delayed by gathering his limbs.
961. TO THE KING, UPON HIS WELCOME TO HAMPTON COURT. SET AND SUNG.
Welcome, great Caesar, welcome now you are
As dearest peace after destructive war:
Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease
After our long and peevish sicknesses.
O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come
To repossess once more your long'd-for home.
A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighs
Of beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.
Enter and prosper; while our eyes do wait
For an ascendent throughly auspicate:
Under which sign we may the former stone
Lay of our safety's new foundation:
That done, O Caesar! live and be to us
Our fate, our fortune, and our genius;
To whose free knees we may our temples tie
As to a still protecting deity:
That should you stir, we and our altars too
May, great Augustus, go along with you.
_Chor. _ Long live the King! and to accomplish this,
We'll from our own add far more years to his.
_Ascendent_, the most influential position of a planet in astrology.
_Auspicate_, propitious.
962. ULTIMUS HEROUM: OR, TO THE MOST LEARNED, AND TO THE RIGHT
HONOURABLE, HENRY, MARQUIS OF DORCHESTER.
And as time past when Cato the severe
Enter'd the circumspacious theatre,
In reverence of his person everyone
Stood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;
E'en so my numbers will astonished be
If but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.
963. TO HIS MUSE; ANOTHER TO THE SAME.
Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have access
To kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;
Or else because th'art like a modest bride,
Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.
966. TO HIS LEARNED FRIEND, M. JO. HARMAR, PHYSICIAN TO THE COLLEGE OF
WESTMINSTER.
When first I find those numbers thou dost write,
To be most soft, terse, sweet, and perpolite:
Next, when I see thee tow'ring in the sky,
In an expansion no less large than high;
Then, in that compass, sailing here and there,
And with circumgyration everywhere;
Following with love and active heat thy game,
And then at last to truss the epigram;
I must confess, distinction none I see
Between Domitian's Martial then, and thee.
But this I know, should Jupiter again
Descend from heaven to reconverse with men;
The Roman language full, and superfine,
If Jove would speak, he would accept of thine.
_Perpolite_, well polished.
967. UPON HIS SPANIEL TRACY.
Now thou art dead, no eye shall ever see,
For shape and service, spaniel like to thee.
This shall my love do, give thy sad death one
Tear, that deserves of me a million.
968. THE DELUGE.
Drowning, drowning, I espy
Coming from my Julia's eye:
'Tis some solace in our smart,
To have friends to bear a part:
I have none; but must be sure
Th' inundation to endure.
Shall not times hereafter tell
This for no mean miracle?
When the waters by their fall
Threaten'd ruin unto all,
Yet the deluge here was known
Of a world to drown but one.
971. STRENGTH TO SUPPORT SOVEREIGNTY.
Let kings and rulers learn this line from me:
_Where power is weak, unsafe is majesty_.
973. CRUTCHES.
Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop;
Three zodiacs filled more, I shall stoop;
Let crutches then provided be
To shore up my debility.
Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry,
"A ruin, underpropp'd, am I".
Don will I then my beadsman's gown,
And when so feeble I am grown,
As my weak shoulders cannot bear
The burden of a grasshopper,
Yet with the bench of aged sires,
When I and they keep termly fires,
With my weak voice I'll sing, or say,
Some odes I made of Lucia:
Then will I heave my wither'd hand
To Jove the mighty, for to stand
Thy faithful friend, and to pour down
Upon thee many a benison.
_Zodiacs_, used as symbols of the astronomical year.
_Beadsman's_, almshouseman's.
974. TO JULIA.
Holy waters hither bring
For the sacred sprinkling:
Baptise me and thee, and so
Let us to the altar go,
And, ere we our rites commence,
Wash our hands in innocence.
Then I'll be the Rex Sacrorum,
Thou the Queen of Peace and Quorum.
_Quorum_, _i. e. _, quorum of justices of the peace, sportively added
for the rhyme's sake.
975. UPON CASE.
Case is a lawyer, that ne'er pleads alone,
But when he hears the like confusion,
As when the disagreeing Commons throw
About their House, their clamorous Aye or No:
Then Case, as loud as any serjeant there,
Cries out: My lord, my lord, the case is clear.
But when all's hush'd, Case, than a fish more mute,
Bestirs his hand, but starves in hand the suit.
976. TO PERENNA.
I a dirge will pen to thee;
Thou a trentall make for me:
That the monks and friars together,
Here may sing the rest of either:
Next, I'm sure, the nuns will have
Candlemas to grace the grave.
_Trentall_, services for the dead.
977. TO HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, M. SUSANNA HERRICK.
The person crowns the place; your lot doth fall
Last, yet to be with these a principal.
Howe'er it fortuned; know for truth, I meant
You a fore-leader in this testament.
978. UPON THE LADY CREW.
This stone can tell the story of my life,
What was my birth, to whom I was a wife:
In teeming years, how soon my sun was set.
Where now I rest, these may be known by jet.
For other things, my many children be
The best and truest chronicles of me.
979. ON TOMASIN PARSONS.
Grow up in beauty, as thou dost begin,
And be of all admired, Tomasin.
980. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE.
Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and mistletoe;
Down with the holly, ivy, all,
Wherewith ye dressed the Christmas Hall:
That so the superstitious find
No one least branch there left behind:
For look, how many leaves there be
Neglected, there (maids, trust to me)
So many goblins you shall see.
981. SUSPICION MAKES SECURE.
He that will live of all cares dispossess'd,
Must shun the bad, aye, and suspect the best.
983. TO HIS KINSMAN, M. THO. HERRICK, WHO DESIRED TO BE IN HIS BOOK.
Welcome to this my college, and though late
Thou'st got a place here (standing candidate)
It matters not, since thou art chosen one
Here of my great and good foundation.
984. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO: LACON AND THYRSIS.
_Lacon. _ For a kiss or two, confess,
What doth cause this pensiveness,
Thou most lovely neat-herdess?
Why so lonely on the hill?
Why thy pipe by thee so still,
That erewhile was heard so shrill?
Tell me, do thy kine now fail
To full fill the milking-pail?
Say, what is't that thou dost ail?
_Thyr. _ None of these; but out, alas!
A mischance is come to pass,
And I'll tell thee what it was:
See, mine eyes are weeping-ripe.
_Lacon. _ Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe.
_Thyr. _ I have lost my lovely steer,
That to me was far more dear
Than these kine which I milk here:
Broad of forehead, large of eye,
Party-colour'd like a pie;
Smooth in each limb as a die;
Clear of hoof, and clear of horn:
Sharply pointed as a thorn,
With a neck by yoke unworn;
From the which hung down by strings,
Balls of cowslips, daisy rings,
Interplac'd with ribbonings:
Faultless every way for shape;
Not a straw could him escape;
Ever gamesome as an ape,
But yet harmless as a sheep.
Pardon, Lacon, if I weep;
_Tears will spring where woes are deep_.
Now, ay me! ay me! Last night
Came a mad dog and did bite,
Aye, and kill'd my dear delight.
_Lacon. _ Alack, for grief!
_Thyr. _ But I'll be brief.
Hence I must, for time doth call
Me, and my sad playmates all,
To his ev'ning funeral.
Live long, Lacon, so adieu!
_Lacon.
_ Mournful maid, farewell to you;
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.
_Pie_, _i. e. _, a magpie.
985. UPON SAPPHO.
Look upon Sappho's lip, and you will swear
There is a love-like leaven rising there.
988. A BACCHANALIAN VERSE.
Drink up
Your cup,
But not spill wine;
For if you
Do,
'Tis an ill sign;
That we
Foresee
You are cloy'd here,
If so, no
Ho,
But avoid here.
989. CARE A GOOD KEEPER.
_Care keeps the conquest; 'tis no less renown
To keep a city than to win a town. _
990. RULES FOR OUR REACH.
Men must have bounds how far to walk; for we
Are made far worse by lawless liberty.
991. TO BIANCA.
Ah, Bianca! now I see
It is noon and past with me:
In a while it will strike one;
Then, Bianca, I am gone.
Some effusions let me have
Offer'd on my holy grave;
Then, Bianca, let me rest
With my face towards the East.
992. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER.
As is your name, so is your comely face
Touch'd everywhere with such diffused grace,
As that in all that admirable round
There is not one least solecism found;
And as that part, so every portion else
Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels.
993. ANACREONTIC.
I must
Not trust
Here to any;
Bereav'd,
Deceiv'd
By so many:
As one
Undone
By my losses;
Comply
Will I
With my crosses;
Yet still
I will
Not be grieving,
Since thence
And hence
Comes relieving.
But this
Sweet is
In our mourning;
Times bad
And sad
Are a-turning:
And he
Whom we
See dejected,
Next day
We may
See erected.
994. MORE MODEST, MORE MANLY.
'Tis still observ'd those men most valiant are,
That are most modest ere they come to war.
995. NOT TO COVET MUCH WHERE LITTLE IS THE CHARGE.
Why should we covet much, whenas we know
W'ave more to bear our charge than way to go?
996. ANACREONTIC VERSE.
Brisk methinks I am, and fine
When I drink my cap'ring wine:
Then to love I do incline,
When I drink my wanton wine:
And I wish all maidens mine,
When I drink my sprightly wine:
Well I sup and well I dine,
When I drink my frolic wine;
But I languish, lower, and pine,
When I want my fragrant wine.
998. PATIENCE IN PRINCES.
_Kings must not use the axe for each offence:
Princes cure some faults by their patience. _
999. FEAR GETS FORCE.
_Despair takes heart, when there's no hope to speed:
The coward then takes arms and does the deed. _
1000. PARCEL-GILT POETRY.
Let's strive to be the best; the gods, we know it,
Pillars and men, hate an indifferent poet.
1001. UPON LOVE, BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Like and dislike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Stroke ye to strike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love will befool ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
Ans. Heat ye to cool ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love gifts will send ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Stock ye to spend ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Love will fulfil ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest. _ What will love do?
_Ans. _ Kiss ye to kill ye.
1002. TO THE LORD HOPTON, ON HIS FIGHT IN CORNWALL.
Go on, brave Hopton, to effectuate that
Which we, and times to come, shall wonder at.
Lift up thy sword; next, suffer it to fall,
And by that one blow set an end to all.
1003. HIS GRANGE.
How well contented in this private grange
Spend I my life, that's subject unto change:
Under whose roof with moss-work wrought, there I
Kiss my brown wife and black posterity.
_Grange_, a farmstead.
1004. LEPROSY IN HOUSES.
When to a house I come, and see
The Genius wasteful, more than free:
The servants thumbless, yet to eat
With lawless tooth the flour of wheat:
The sons to suck the milk of kine,
More than the teats of discipline:
The daughters wild and loose in dress,
Their cheeks unstained with shamefac'dness:
The husband drunk, the wife to be
A bawd to incivility;
I must confess, I there descry,
A house spread through with leprosy.
_Thumbless_, lazy: cp. painful thumb, _supra_.
1005. GOOD MANNERS AT MEAT.
This rule of manners I will teach my guests:
To come with their own bellies unto feasts;
Not to eat equal portions, but to rise
Farced with the food that may themselves suffice.
_Farced_, stuffed.
1006. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION.
Anthea laugh'd, and fearing lest excess
Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness,
She with a dainty blush rebuk'd her face,
And call'd each line back to his rule and space.
1007. COMFORTS IN CROSSES.
Be not dismayed though crosses cast thee down;
Thy fall is but the rising to a crown.
1008. SEEK AND FIND.
_Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
Nothing's so hard but search will find it out. _
1009. REST.
On with thy work, though thou be'st hardly press'd:
_Labour is held up by the hope of rest_.
1010. LEPROSY IN CLOTHES.
When flowing garments I behold
Inspir'd with purple, pearl and gold,
I think no other, but I see
In them a glorious leprosy
That does infect and make the rent
More mortal in the vestiment.
_As flowery vestures do descry
The wearer's rich immodesty:
So plain and simple clothes do show
Where virtue walks, not those that flow. _
1012. GREAT MALADIES, LONG MEDICINES.
_To an old sore a long cure must go on:
Great faults require great satisfaction. _
1013. HIS ANSWER TO A FRIEND.
You ask me what I do, and how I live?
And, noble friend, this answer I must give:
Drooping, I draw on to the vaults of death,
O'er which you'll walk, when I am laid beneath.
1014. THE BEGGAR.
Shall I a daily beggar be,
For love's sake asking alms of thee?
Still shall I crave, and never get
A hope of my desired bit?
Ah, cruel maids! I'll go my way,
Whereas, perchance, my fortunes may
Find out a threshold or a door
That may far sooner speed the poor:
Where thrice we knock, and none will hear,
Cold comfort still I'm sure lives there.
1015. BASTARDS.
Our bastard children are but like to plate
Made by the coiners--illegitimate.
1016. HIS CHANGE.
My many cares and much distress
Has made me like a wilderness;
Or, discompos'd, I'm like a rude
And all confused multitude:
Out of my comely manners worn,
And, as in means, in mind all torn.
1017. THE VISION.
Methought I saw, as I did dream in bed,
A crawling vine about Anacreon's head.
Flushed was his face; his hairs with oil did shine;
And, as he spake, his mouth ran o'er with wine.
Tippled he was, and tippling lisped withal;
And lisping reeled, and reeling like to fall.
A young enchantress close by him did stand,
Tapping his plump thighs with a myrtle wand:
She smil'd; he kiss'd; and kissing, cull'd her too,
And being cup-shot, more he could not do.
For which, methought, in pretty anger she
Snatched off his crown, and gave the wreath to me;
Since when, methinks, my brains about do swim,
And I am wild and wanton like to him.
_Cull'd_, embraced.
_Cup-shot_, drunk.
1018. A VOW TO VENUS.
Happily I had a sight
Of my dearest dear last night;
Make her this day smile on me,
And I'll roses give to thee.
1019. ON HIS BOOK.
The bound, almost, now of my book I see,
But yet no end of these therein, or me:
Here we begin new life, while thousands quite
Are lost, and theirs, in everlasting night.
1020. A SONNET OF PERILLA.
Then did I live when I did see
Perilla smile on none but me.
But, ah! by stars malignant crossed,
The life I got I quickly lost;
But yet a way there doth remain
For me embalm'd to live again,
And that's to love me; in which state
I'll live as one regenerate.
1021. BAD MAY BE BETTER.
Man may at first transgress, but next do well:
_Vice doth in some but lodge a while, not dwell_.
1022. POSTING TO PRINTING.
Let others to the printing press run fast;
Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste.
1023. RAPINE BRINGS RUIN.
What's got by justice is established sure:
_No kingdoms got by rapine long endure_.
1024. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE.
What needs complaints,
When she a place
Has with the race
Of saints?
In endless mirth,
She thinks not on
What's said or done
In earth.
She sees no tears,
Or any tone
Of thy deep groan
She hears:
Nor does she mind,
Or think on't now,
That ever thou
Wast kind;
But chang'd above,
She likes not there.
As she did here,
Thy love.
Forbear, therefore,
And lull asleep
Thy woes, and weep
No more.
1026. SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY, OR THE MORROW AFTER TWELFTH DAY.
Partly work and partly play
Ye must on S. Distaff's day:
From the plough soon free your team,
Then come home and fodder them.
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax and fire the tow;
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maidenhair.
Bring in pails of water, then,
Let the maids bewash the men.
Give S. Distaff all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night;
And next morrow everyone
To his own vocation.
_Plackets_, petticoats.
1027. SUFFERANCE.
In the hope of ease to come,
Let's endure one martyrdom.
1028. HIS TEARS TO THAMESIS.
I send, I send here my supremest kiss
To thee, my silver-footed Thamesis.
No more shall I reiterate thy Strand,
Whereon so many stately structures stand:
Nor in the summer's sweeter evenings go
To bathe in thee, as thousand others do;
No more shall I along thy crystal glide
In barge with boughs and rushes beautifi'd,
With soft-smooth virgins for our chaste disport,
To Richmond, Kingston, and to Hampton Court.
Never again shall I with finny oar
Put from, or draw unto the faithful shore:
And landing here, or safely landing there,
Make way to my beloved Westminster,
Or to the golden Cheapside, where the earth
Of Julia Herrick gave to me my birth.
May all clean nymphs and curious water-dames
With swan-like state float up and down thy streams:
No drought upon thy wanton waters fall
To make them lean and languishing at all.
No ruffling winds come hither to disease
Thy pure and silver-wristed Naiades.
Keep up your state, ye streams; and as ye spring,
Never make sick your banks by surfeiting.
Grow young with tides, and though I see ye never,
Receive this vow, so fare ye well for ever.
_Reiterate_, retread.
1029. PARDONS.
Those ends in war the best contentment bring,
_Whose peace is made up with a pardoning_.
1030. PEACE NOT PERMANENT.
_Great cities seldom rest; if there be none
T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home. _
1031. TRUTH AND ERROR.
_'Twixt truth and error there's this difference known;
Error is fruitful, truth is only one. _
1032. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE.
