There were three sons and four daughters in this
family, and Herrick wrote a poem to one of the daughters, Bridget (562),
and an elegy on another, Elizabeth (376).
family, and Herrick wrote a poem to one of the daughters, Bridget (562),
and an elegy on another, Elizabeth (376).
Robert Herrick
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? The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2, by
Robert Herrick
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Title: The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2
Author: Robert Herrick
Release Date: August 28, 2007 [EBook #22421]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HESPERIDES ***
Produced by Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www. pgdp. net
ROBERT HERRICK
THE HESPERIDES & NOBLE
NUMBERS: EDITED BY
ALFRED POLLARD
WITH A PREFACE BY
A. C. SWINBURNE
VOL. I.
_REVISED EDITION_
[Illustration]
LONDON: NEW YORK:
LAWRENCE & BULLEN, LTD. , CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,
16 HENRIETTA STREET, W. C. 153-157 FIFTH AVENUE
1898. 1898.
Transcriber's Note:
Original spelling and punctuation has been retained.
^ indicates 'superscript' within the text.
Obvious typesetting errors have been corrected without note, however
additional corrections have been recorded in the Transcriber's
Endnotes at the end each volume.
EDITOR'S NOTE.
In this edition of Herrick quotation is for the first time facilitated
by the poems being numbered according to their order in the original
edition. This numbering has rendered it possible to print those
Epigrams, which successive editors have joined in deploring, in a
detachable Appendix, their place in the original being indicated by the
numeration. It remains to be added that the footnotes in this edition
are intended to explain, as unobtrusively as possible, difficulties of
phrase or allusion which might conceivably hinder the understanding of
Herrick's meaning. In the longer Notes at the end of each volume earlier
versions of some important poems are printed from manuscripts at the
British Museum, and an endeavour has been made to extend the list of
Herrick's debts to classical sources, and to identify some of his
friends who have hitherto escaped research. An editor is always apt to
mention his predecessors rather for blame than praise, and I therefore
take this opportunity of acknowledging my general indebtedness to the
pioneer work of Mr. Hazlitt and Dr. Grosart, upon whose foundations all
editors of Herrick must necessarily build.
ALFRED W. POLLARD.
PREFACE.
It is singular that the first great age of English lyric poetry should
have been also the one great age of English dramatic poetry: but it is
hardly less singular that the lyric school should have advanced as
steadily as the dramatic school declined from the promise of its dawn.
Born with Marlowe, it rose at once with Shakespeare to heights
inaccessible before and since and for ever, to sink through bright
gradations of glorious decline to its final and beautiful sunset in
Shirley: but the lyrical record that begins with the author of "Euphues"
and "Endymion" grows fuller if not brighter through a whole chain of
constellations till it culminates in the crowning star of Herrick.
Shakespeare's last song, the exquisite and magnificent overture to "The
Two Noble Kinsmen," is hardly so limpid in its flow, so liquid in its
melody, as the two great songs in "Valentinian": but Herrick, our last
poet of that incomparable age or generation, has matched them again and
again. As a creative and inventive singer, he surpasses all his rivals
in quantity of good work; in quality of spontaneous instinct and
melodious inspiration he reminds us, by frequent and flawless evidence,
who above all others must beyond all doubt have been his first master
and his first model in lyric poetry--the author of "The Passionate
Shepherd to his Love".
The last of his line, he is and will probably be always the first in
rank and station of English song-writers. We have only to remember how
rare it is to find a perfect song, good to read and good to sing,
combining the merits of Coleridge and Shelley with the capabilities of
Tommy Moore and Haynes Bayly, to appreciate the unique and
unapproachable excellence of Herrick. The lyrist who wished to be a
butterfly, the lyrist who fled or flew to a lone vale at the hour
(whatever hour it may be) "when stars are weeping," have left behind
them such stuff as may be sung, but certainly cannot be read and endured
by any one with an ear for verse. The author of the Ode on France and
the author of the Ode to the West Wind have left us hardly more than a
song a-piece which has been found fit for setting to music: and, lovely
as they are, the fame of their authors does not mainly depend on the
song of Glycine or the song of which Leigh Hunt so justly and so
critically said that Beaumont and Fletcher never wrote anything of the
kind more lovely. Herrick, of course, lives simply by virtue of his
songs; his more ambitious or pretentious lyrics are merely magnified and
prolonged and elaborated songs. Elegy or litany, epicede or
epithalamium, his work is always a song-writer's; nothing more, but
nothing less, than the work of the greatest song-writer--as surely as
Shakespeare is the greatest dramatist--ever born of English race. The
apparent or external variety of his versification is, I should suppose,
incomparable; but by some happy tact or instinct he was too naturally
unambitious to attempt, like Jonson, a flight in the wake of Pindar. He
knew what he could not do: a rare and invaluable gift. Born a blackbird
or a thrush, he did not take himself (or try) to be a nightingale.
It has often been objected that he did mistake himself for a sacred
poet: and it cannot be denied that his sacred verse at its worst is as
offensive as his secular verse at its worst; nor can it be denied that
no severer sentence of condemnation can be passed upon any poet's work.
But neither Herbert nor Crashaw could have bettered such a divinely
beautiful triplet as this:--
"We see Him come, and know Him ours,
Who with His sunshine and His showers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers".
That is worthy of Miss Rossetti herself: and praise of such work can go
no higher.
But even such exquisite touches or tones of colour may be too often
repeated in fainter shades or more glaring notes of assiduous and facile
reiteration. The sturdy student who tackles his Herrick as a schoolboy
is expected to tackle his Horace, in a spirit of pertinacious and stolid
straightforwardness, will probably find himself before long so nauseated
by the incessant inhalation of spices and flowers, condiments and
kisses, that if a musk-rat had run over the page it could hardly be less
endurable to the physical than it is to the spiritual stomach. The
fantastic and the brutal blemishes which deform and deface the
loveliness of his incomparable genius are hardly so damaging to his fame
as his general monotony of matter and of manner. It was doubtless in
order to relieve this saccharine and "mellisonant" monotony that he
thought fit to intersperse these interminable droppings of natural or
artificial perfume with others of the rankest and most intolerable
odour: but a diet of alternate sweetmeats and emetics is for the average
of eaters and drinkers no less unpalatable than unwholesome. It is
useless and thankless to enlarge on such faults or such defects, as it
would be useless and senseless to ignore. But how to enlarge, to
expatiate, to insist on the charm of Herrick at his best--a charm so
incomparable and so inimitable that even English poetry can boast of
nothing quite like it or worthy to be named after it--the most
appreciative reader will be the slowest to affirm or imagine that he can
conjecture. This, however, he will hardly fail to remark: that Herrick,
like most if not all other lyric poets, is not best known by his best
work. If we may judge by frequency of quotation or of reference, the
ballad of the ride from Ghent to Aix is a far more popular, more
generally admired and accredited specimen of Mr. Browning's work than
"The Last Ride Together"--and "The Lost Leader" than "The Lost
Mistress". Yet the superiority of the less-popular poem is in either
case beyond all question or comparison: in depth and in glow of spirit
and of harmony, in truth and charm of thought and word, undeniable and
indescribable. No two men of genius were ever more unlike than the
authors of "Paracelsus" and "Hesperides": and yet it is as true of
Herrick as of Browning that his best is not always his best-known work.
Everyone knows the song, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"; few, I
fear, by comparison, know the yet sweeter and better song, "Ye have been
fresh and green". The general monotony of style and motive which
fatigues and irritates his too-persevering reader is here and there
relieved by a change of key which anticipates the note of a later and
very different lyric school. The brilliant simplicity and pointed grace
of the three stanzas to OEnone ("What conscience, say, is it in thee")
recall the lyrists of the Restoration in their cleanlier and happier
mood. And in the very fine epigram headed by the words "Devotion makes
the Deity" he has expressed for once a really high and deep thought in
words of really noble and severe propriety. His "Mad Maid's Song,"
again, can only be compared with Blake's; which has more of passionate
imagination, if less of pathetic sincerity.
A. C. SWINBURNE.
LIFE OF HERRICK.
Of the lives of many poets we know too much; of some few too little.
Lovers of Herrick are almost ideally fortunate. Just such a bare outline
of his life has come down to us as is sufficient to explain the
allusions in his poems, and, on the other hand, there is no temptation
to substitute chatter about his relations with Julia and Dianeme for
enjoyment of his delightful verse. The recital of the bare outline need
detain us but a few minutes: only the least imaginative of readers will
have any difficulty in filling it in from the poems themselves.
From early in the fourteenth century onwards we hear of the family of
Eyrick or Herrick at Stretton, in Leicestershire. At the beginning of
the sixteenth century we find a branch of it settled in Leicester
itself, where John Eyrick, the poet's grandfather, was admitted a
freeman in 1535, and afterwards acted as Mayor. This John's second son,
Nicholas, migrated to London, became a goldsmith in Wood Street,
Cheapside, and, according to a licence issued by the Bishop of London,
December 8, 1582, married Julian, daughter of William Stone, sister of
Anne, wife of Sir Stephen Soame, Lord Mayor of London in 1598. The
marriage was not unfruitful. A William[A] Herrick was baptized at St.
Vedast's, Foster Lane, November 24, 1585; Martha, January 22, 1586;
Mercy, December 22, 1586; Thomas, May 7, 1588; Nicholas, April 22, 1589;
Anne, July 26, 1590; and Robert himself, August 24, 1591.
[A] A second William is said to have been born, posthumously, in "Harry
Campion's house at Hampton," in 1593.
Fifteen months after the poet's birth, on November 7, 1592, Nicholas
Herrick made his will, estimating his property as worth ? 3000, and
devising it, as to one-third to his wife, and as to the other two-thirds
to his children in equal shares. In the will he described himself as "of
perfect memorye in sowle, but sicke in bodye". Two days after its
execution he was buried, having died, not from disease, but from a fall
from an upper window. His death had so much the appearance of
self-destruction that ? 220 had to be paid to the High Almoner, Dr.
Fletcher, Bishop of Bristol, in satisfaction of his official claim to
the goods and chattels of suicides. Herrick's biographers have not
failed to vituperate the Bishop for his avarice, but dues allowed by law
are hardly to be abandoned because a baby of fifteen months is destined
to become a brilliant poet, and no other exceptional circumstances are
alleged. The estate of Nicholas Herrick could the better afford the fine
inasmuch as it realized ? 2000 more than was expected.
By the will Robert and William Herrick were appointed "overseers," or
trustees for the children. The former was the poet's godfather, and in
his will of 1617 left him ? 5. To William Herrick, then recently knighted
for his services as goldsmith, jeweller, and moneylender to James I. ,
the young Robert was apprenticed for ten years, September 25, 1607. An
allusion to "beloved Westminster," in his _Tears to Thamesis_, has been
taken to refer to Westminster school, and alleged as proof that he was
educated there. Dr. Grosart even presses the mention of Richmond,
Kingston, and Hampton Court to support a conjecture that Herrick may
have travelled up and down to school from Hampton. If so, one wonders
what his headmaster had to say to the "soft-smooth virgins, for our
chaste disport" by whom he was accompanied. But the references in the
poem are surely to his courtier-life in London, and after his father's
death the apprenticeship to his uncle in 1607 is the first fact in his
life of which we can be sure.
In 1607, Herrick was fifteen, and, even if we conjecture that he may
have been allowed to remain at school some little time after his
apprenticeship nominally began, he must have served his uncle for five
or six years. Sir William had himself been bound apprentice in a similar
way to the poet's father, and we have no evidence that he exacted any
premium. At any rate, when in 1614, his nephew, then of age, desired to
leave the business and go to Cambridge, the ten years' apprenticeship
did not stand in his way, and he entered as a Fellow Commoner at St.
John's. His uncle plainly still managed his affairs, for an amusing
series of fourteen letters has been preserved at Beaumanor, until lately
the seat of Sir William's descendants, in which the poet asks sometimes
for payment of a quarterly stipend of ? 10, sometimes for a formal loan,
sometimes for the help of his avuncular Maecenas. It seems a fair
inference from this variety of requests that, since Herrick's share of
his father's property could hardly have yielded a yearly income of ? 40,
he was allowed to draw on his capital for this sum, but that his uncle
and Lady Herrick occasionally made him small presents, which may account
for his tone of dependence.
The quarterly stipend was paid through various booksellers, but
irregularly, so that the poor poet was frequently reduced to great
straits, though ? 40 a-year (? 200 of our money) was no bad allowance.
After two years he migrated from St. John's to Trinity Hall, to study
law and curtail his expenses. He took his Bachelor's degree from there
in January, 1617, and his Master's in 1620. The fourteen letters show
that he had prepared himself for University life by cultivating a very
florid prose style which frequently runs into decasyllabics, perhaps a
result of a study of the dramatists. Sir William Herrick is sometimes
addressed in them as his most "careful" uncle, but at the time of his
migration the poet speaks of his "ebbing estate," and as late as 1629 he
was still ? 10 16s. 9d. in debt to the College Steward. We can thus
hardly imagine that he was possessed of any considerable private income
when he returned to London, to live practically on his wits, and a study
of his poems suggests that, the influence of the careful uncle removed,
whatever capital he possessed was soon likely to vanish. [B] His verses
to the Earl of Pembroke, to Endymion Porter and to others, show that he
was glad of "pay" as well as "praise," but the system of patronage
brought no discredit with it, and though the absence of any poetical
mention of his uncle suggests that the rich goldsmith was not
well-pleased with his nephew, with the rest of his well-to-do relations
Herrick seems to have remained on excellent terms.
[B] Yet in his _Farewell to Poetry_ he distinctly says:--
"I've more to bear my charge than way to go";
the line, however, is a translation from his favourite Seneca, Ep. 77.
Besides patrons, such as Pembroke, Westmoreland, Newark, Buckingham,
Herrick had less distinguished friends at Court, Edward Norgate, Jack
Crofts and others. He composed the words for two New Year anthems which
were set to music by Henry Lawes, and he was probably personally known
both to the King and Queen. Outside the Court he reckoned himself one of
Ben Jonson's disciples, "Sons of Ben" as they were called, had friends
at the Inns of Court, knew the organist of Westminster Abbey and his
pretty daughters, and had every temptation to live an amusing and
expensive life. His poems were handed about in manuscript after the
fashion of the time, and wherever music and poetry were loved he was
sure to be a welcome guest.
Mr. Hazlitt's conjecture that Herrick at this time may have held some
small post in the Chapel at Whitehall is not unreasonable, but at what
date he took Holy Orders is not known. In 1627 he obtained the post of
chaplain to the unlucky expedition to the Isle of Rhe, and two years
later (September 30, 1629) he was presented by the King to the Vicarage
of Dean Prior, in Devonshire, which the promotion of its previous
incumbent, Dr. Potter, to the Bishopric of Carlisle, had left in the
royal gift. The annual value of the living was only ? 50 (? 250 present
value), no great prize, but the poem entitled _Mr. Robert Hericke: his
farwell unto Poetrie_ (not printed in _Hesperides_, but extant in more
than one manuscript version) shows that the poet was not unaware of the
responsibilities of his profession. "But unto me," he says to his Muse:
"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 sublime 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. "
Perhaps it was at this time too that Herrick wrote his _Farewell to
Sack_, and although he returned both to sack and to poetry we should be
wrong in imagining him as a "blind mouth," using his office merely as a
means of gain. He celebrated the births of Charles II and his brother in
verse, perhaps with an eye to future royal favours, but no more than
Chaucer's good parson does he seem to have "run to London unto Seynte
Poules" in search of the seventeenth century equivalent for a chauntry,
and many of his poems show him living the life of a contented country
clergyman, sharing the contents of bin and cruse with his poor
parishioners, and jotting down sermon-notes in verse.
The great majority of Herrick's poems cannot be dated, and it is idle to
enquire which were written before his ordination and which afterwards.
His conception of religion was medieval in its sensuousness, and he
probably repeated the stages of sin, repentance and renewed assurance
with some facility. He lived with an old servant, Prudence Baldwin, the
"Prew" of many of his poems; kept a spaniel named Tracy, and, so says
tradition, a tame pig. When his parishioners annoyed him he seems to
have comforted himself with epigrams on them; when they slumbered during
one of his sermons the manuscript was suddenly hurled at them with a
curse for their inattention.
In the same year that Herrick was appointed to his country vicarage his
mother died while living with her daughter, Mercy, the poet's dearest
sister (see 818), then for some time married to John Wingfield of
Brantham in Suffolk (see 590), by whom she had three sons and a
daughter, also called Mercy. His eldest brother, Thomas, had been placed
with a Mr. Massam, a merchant, but as early as 1610 had retired to live
a country life in Leicestershire (see 106). He appears to have married a
wife named Elizabeth, whose loss Herrick laments (see 72). Nicholas, the
next brother was more adventurous. He had become a merchant trading to
the Levant, and in this capacity had visited the Holy Land (see 1100).
To his wife Susanna, daughter of William Salter, Herrick addresses two
poems (522 and 977).
There were three sons and four daughters in this
family, and Herrick wrote a poem to one of the daughters, Bridget (562),
and an elegy on another, Elizabeth (376). When Mrs. Herrick died the
bulk of her property was left to the Wingfields, but William Herrick
received a legacy of ? 100, with ten pounds apiece to his two children,
and a ring of twenty shillings to his wife. Nicholas and Robert were
only left twenty-shilling rings, and the administration of the will was
entrusted to William Herrick and the Wingfields. The will may have been
the result of a family arrangement, and we have no reason to believe
that the unequal division gave rise to any ill-feeling. Herrick's
address to "his dying brother, Master William Herrick" (186), shows
abundant affection, and there is every reason to believe that it was
addressed to the William who administered to Mrs. Herrick's will.
While little nephews and nieces were springing up around him, Herrick
remained unmarried, and frequently congratulates himself on his freedom
from the yoke matrimonial. He imagined how he would bid farewell to his
wife, if he had one (465), and wrote magnificent epithalamia for his
friends, but lived and died a bachelor. When first civil troubles and
then civil war cast a shadow over the land, it is not very easy to say
how he viewed the contending parties. He was devoted to Charles and
Henrietta Maria and the young Prince of Wales, and rejoiced at every
Royalist success. Many also of his poems breathe the spirit of
unquestioning loyalty, but in others he is less certain of kingly
wisdom. Something, however, must be allowed for his evident habit of
versifying any phrase or epigram which impressed him, and not all his
poems need be regarded as expressions of his personal opinions. But with
whatever doubts his loyalty was qualified, it was sufficiently obvious
to procure his ejection from his living in 1648; and, making the best of
his loss, he bade farewell to Dean Prior, shook the dust of "loathed
Devonshire" off his feet, and returned gaily to London, where he appears
to have discarded his clerical habit and to have been made abundantly
welcome by his friends.
Free from the cares of his incumbency, and free also from the restraints
it imposed, Herrick's thoughts turned to the publication of his poems.
As we have said, in his old Court-days these had found some circulation
in manuscript, and in 1635 one of his fairy poems was printed, probably
without his leave (see Appendix). In 1639 his poem (575) _The Apparition
of his Mistress calling him to Elysium_ was licensed at Stationers' Hall
under the title of _His Mistress' Shade_, and it was included the next
year in an edition of Shakespeare's Poems (see Notes). On April 29,
1640, "The severall poems written by Master Robert Herrick," were
entered as to be published by Andrew Crook, but no trace of such a
volume has been discovered, and it was only in 1648 that _Hesperides_ at
length appeared. Two years later upwards of eighty of the poems in it
were printed in the 1650 edition of _Witt's Recreations_, but a small
number of these show considerable variations from the _Hesperides_
versions, and it is probable that they were printed from the poet's
manuscript. Compilers of other miscellanies and song books laid Herrick
under contribution, but, with the one exception of his contribution to
the _Lacrymae Musarum_ in 1649, no fresh production of his pen has been
preserved, and we know nothing further of his life save that he returned
to Dean Prior after the Restoration (August 24, 1662), and that
according to the parish register "Robert Herrick, Vicker, was buried
y^e 15th day October, 1674. "
ALFRED W. POLLARD
NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.
In this edition some trifling errors, which had crept into the text and
the numeration of the poems, have been corrected, and many fresh
illustrations of Herrick's reading added in the notes, which have
elsewhere been slightly compressed to make room for them. Almost all of
the new notes have been supplied from the manuscript collections of a
veteran student of Herrick who placed himself in correspondence with me
after the publication of my first edition. To my great regret I am not
allowed to make my acknowledgments to him by name.
A. W. P.
HESPERIDES:
OR,
THE WORKS
BOTH
HUMANE & DIVINE
OF
ROBERT HERRICK _Esq. _
OVID.
_Effugient avidos Carmina nostra Rogos. _
_LONDON. _
Printed for _John Williams_, and _Francis Eglesfield_,
and are to be sold by _Tho: Hunt_, Book-seller
in _Exon. _ 1648.
TO THE
MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND MOST HOPEFUL
PRINCE.
CHARLES,
PRINCE OF WALES.
Well may my book come forth like public day
When such a light as you are leads the way,
Who are my work's creator, and alone
The flame of it, and the expansion.
And look how all those heavenly lamps acquire
Light from the sun, that inexhausted fire,
So all my morn and evening stars from you
Have their existence, and their influence too.
Full is my book of glories; but all these
By you become immortal substances.
HESPERIDES.
1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers,
Of April, May, of June and July-flowers;
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides and of their bridal cakes;
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris;
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write
How roses first came red and lilies white;
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King;
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.
_Hock-cart_, the last cart from the harvest-field.
_Wakes_, village festivals, properly on the dedication-day of a church.
_Ambergris_, 'grey amber,' much used in perfumery.
2. TO HIS MUSE.
Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam?
Far safer 'twere to stay at home,
Where thou mayst sit and piping please
The poor and private cottages,
Since cotes and hamlets best agree
With this thy meaner minstrelsy.
There with the reed thou mayst express
The shepherd's fleecy happiness,
And with thy eclogues intermix
Some smooth and harmless bucolics.
There on a hillock thou mayst sing
Unto a handsome shepherdling,
Or to a girl, that keeps the neat,
With breath more sweet than 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 do not go
Or fly abroad to seek for woe.
Contempts in courts and cities dwell,
No critic haunts the poor man's cell,
Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read
By no one tongue there censured.
That man's unwise will search for ill,
And may prevent it, sitting still.
3. TO HIS BOOK.
While thou didst keep thy candour undefil'd,
Dearly I lov'd thee as my first-born child,
But when I saw thee wantonly to roam
From house to house, and never stay at home,
I brake my bonds of love, and bade thee go,
Regardless whether well thou sped'st or no.
On with thy fortunes then, whate'er they be:
If good, I'll smile; if bad, I'll sigh for thee.
4. ANOTHER.
To read my book the virgin shy
May blush while Brutus standeth by,
But when he's gone, read through what's writ,
And never stain a cheek for it.
_Brutus_, see Martial, xi. 16, quoted in Note at the end of the volume.
7. TO HIS BOOK.
Come thou not near those men who are like bread
O'er-leaven'd, or like cheese o'er-renneted.
8. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ.
In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.
When laurel spirts i'th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;
When up the thyrse[C] is rais'd, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies[D] flies, a round, a round.
When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine,
Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.
_Round_, a rustic dance.
_Cato_, see Martial, x. 17, quoted in Note.
[C] "A javelin twined with ivy" (Note in the original edition).
[D] "Songs to Bacchus" (Note in the original edition. )
9. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY.
Droop, droop no more, or hang the head,
Ye roses almost withered;
Now strength and newer purple get,
Each here declining violet.
O primroses! let this day be
A resurrection unto ye;
And to all flowers ally'd in blood,
Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood:
For health on Julia's cheek hath shed
Claret and cream commingled;
And those her lips do now appear
As beams of coral, but more clear.
_Beams_, perhaps here = branches: but cp. 440.
10. TO SILVIA TO WED.
Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed,
And loving lie in one devoted bed.
Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post-haste;
No sound calls back the year 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. _
11. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA.
I dreamt the roses one time went
To meet and sit in parliament;
The place for these, and for the rest
Of flowers, was thy spotless breast,
Over the which a state was drawn
Of tiffanie or cobweb lawn.
Then in that parly all those powers
Voted the rose the queen of flowers;
But so as that herself should be
The maid of honour unto thee.
_State_, a canopy.
_Tiffanie_, gauze.
_Parly_, a parliament.
12. NO BASHFULNESS IN BEGGING.
To get thine ends, lay bashfulness aside;
_Who fears to ask doth teach to be deny'd. _
13. THE FROZEN HEART.
I freeze, I freeze, and nothing dwells
In me but snow and icicles.
For pity's sake, give your advice,
To melt this snow and thaw this ice.
I'll drink down flames; but if so be
Nothing but love can supple me,
I'll rather keep this frost and snow
Than to be thaw'd or heated so.
14. TO PERILLA.
Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see
Me, day by day, to steal away from thee?
Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come,
And haste away to mine eternal home;
'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this,
That I must give thee the supremest kiss.
Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring
Part of the cream from that religious spring;
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 turf, and there
Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear:
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 cool and silent shades of sleep.
_Weekly strewings_, _i. e. _, of flowers on his grave.
_First cast in salt_, cp. 769.
15. A SONG TO THE MASKERS.
Come down and dance ye in the toil
Of pleasures to a heat;
But if to moisture, let the oil
Of roses be your sweat.
Not only to yourselves assume
These sweets, but let them fly
From this to that, and so perfume
E'en all the standers by;
As goddess Isis, when she went
Or glided through the street,
Made all that touched her, with her scent,
And whom she touched, turn sweet.
16. TO PERENNA.
When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy
In any one the least indecency;
But every line and limb diffused thence
A fair and unfamiliar excellence:
So that the more I look the more I prove
There's still more cause why I the more should love.
_Indecency_, uncomeliness.
17. TREASON.
The seeds of treason choke up as they spring:
_He acts the crime that gives it cherishing_.
18. TWO THINGS ODIOUS.
Two of a thousand things are disallow'd:
A lying rich man, and a poor man proud.
19. TO HIS MISTRESSES.
Help me! help me! now I call
To my pretty witchcrafts all;
Old I am, and cannot do
That I was accustomed to.
Bring your magics, spells, and charms,
To enflesh my thighs and arms.
Is there no way to beget
In my limbs their former heat?
AEson had, as poets feign,
Baths that made him young again:
Find that medicine, if you can,
For your dry decrepit man
Who would fain his strength renew,
Were it but to pleasure you.
_AEson_, rejuvenated by Medea; see Ovid, Met. vii.
20. THE WOUNDED HEART.
Come bring your sampler, and with art
Draw in't a wounded heart
And dropping here and there:
Not that I think that any dart
Can make yours bleed a tear,
Or pierce it anywhere;
Yet do it to this end: that I
May by
This secret see,
Though you can make
That heart to bleed, yours ne'er will ache
For me.
21. NO LOATHSOMENESS IN LOVE.
What I fancy I approve,
_No dislike there is in love_.
Be my mistress short or tall,
And distorted therewithal:
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 show her tongue wag through;
Be her lips ill hung or set,
And her grinders black as jet:
Has she thin hair, hath she none,
She's to me a paragon.
22. TO ANTHEA.
If, dear Anthea, my hard fate it be
To live some few sad hours after thee,
Thy sacred corse with odours I will burn,
And with my laurel crown thy golden urn.
Then holding up there such religious things
As were, time past, thy holy filletings,
Near to thy reverend pitcher I will fall
Down dead for grief, and end my woes withal:
So three in one small plat of ground shall lie--
Anthea, Herrick, and his poetry.
23. THE WEEPING CHERRY.
I saw a cherry weep, and why?
Why wept it? but for shame
Because my Julia's lip was by,
And did out-red the same.
But, pretty fondling, let not fall
A tear at all for that:
Which rubies, corals, scarlets, all
For tincture wonder at.
24. SOFT MUSIC.
The mellow touch of music most doth wound
The soul when it doth rather sigh than sound.
25. THE DIFFERENCE BETWIXT KINGS AND SUBJECTS.
'Twixt kings and subjects there's this mighty odds:
Subjects are taught by men; kings by the gods.
26. HIS ANSWER TO A QUESTION.
Some would know
Why I so
Long still do tarry,
And ask why
Here that I
Live and not marry.
Thus I those
Do oppose:
What man would be here
Slave to thrall,
If at all
He could live free here?
27. UPON JULIA'S FALL.
Julia was careless, and withal
She rather took than got a fall,
The wanton ambler chanc'd to see
Part of her legs' sincerity:
And ravish'd thus, it came to pass,
The nag (like to the prophet's ass)
Began to speak, and would have been
A-telling what rare sights he'd seen:
And had told all; but did refrain
Because his tongue was tied again.
28. EXPENSES EXHAUST.
Live with a thrifty, not a needy fate;
_Small shots paid often waste a vast estate_.
_Shots_, debts.
29. LOVE, WHAT IT IS.
Love is a circle that doth restless move
In the same sweet eternity of love.
30. PRESENCE AND ABSENCE.
When what is lov'd is present, love doth spring;
But being absent, love lies languishing.
31. NO SPOUSE BUT A SISTER.
A bachelor I will
Live as I have liv'd still,
And never take a wife
To crucify my life;
But this I'll tell ye too,
What now I mean to do:
A sister (in the stead
Of wife) about I'll lead;
Which I will keep embrac'd,
And kiss, but yet be chaste.
32. THE POMANDER BRACELET.
To me my Julia lately sent
A bracelet richly redolent:
The beads I kissed, but most lov'd her
That did perfume the pomander.
_Pomander_, a ball of scent.
33. THE SHOE-TYING.
Anthea bade me tie her shoe;
I did; and kissed the instep too:
And would have kissed unto her knee,
Had not her blush rebuked me.
34. THE CARCANET.
Instead of orient pearls of jet
I sent my love a carcanet;
About her spotless neck she knit
The lace, to honour me or it:
Then think how rapt was I to see
My jet t'enthral such ivory.
_Carcanet_, necklace.
_Lace_, any kind of girdle; used here for the necklace.
35. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA.
When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone
Unto that watery desolation,
Devoutly to thy closet-gods then pray
That my wing'd ship may meet no remora.
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? The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2, by
Robert Herrick
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www. gutenberg. org
Title: The Hesperides & Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2
Author: Robert Herrick
Release Date: August 28, 2007 [EBook #22421]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HESPERIDES ***
Produced by Stephen Blundell and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www. pgdp. net
ROBERT HERRICK
THE HESPERIDES & NOBLE
NUMBERS: EDITED BY
ALFRED POLLARD
WITH A PREFACE BY
A. C. SWINBURNE
VOL. I.
_REVISED EDITION_
[Illustration]
LONDON: NEW YORK:
LAWRENCE & BULLEN, LTD. , CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,
16 HENRIETTA STREET, W. C. 153-157 FIFTH AVENUE
1898. 1898.
Transcriber's Note:
Original spelling and punctuation has been retained.
^ indicates 'superscript' within the text.
Obvious typesetting errors have been corrected without note, however
additional corrections have been recorded in the Transcriber's
Endnotes at the end each volume.
EDITOR'S NOTE.
In this edition of Herrick quotation is for the first time facilitated
by the poems being numbered according to their order in the original
edition. This numbering has rendered it possible to print those
Epigrams, which successive editors have joined in deploring, in a
detachable Appendix, their place in the original being indicated by the
numeration. It remains to be added that the footnotes in this edition
are intended to explain, as unobtrusively as possible, difficulties of
phrase or allusion which might conceivably hinder the understanding of
Herrick's meaning. In the longer Notes at the end of each volume earlier
versions of some important poems are printed from manuscripts at the
British Museum, and an endeavour has been made to extend the list of
Herrick's debts to classical sources, and to identify some of his
friends who have hitherto escaped research. An editor is always apt to
mention his predecessors rather for blame than praise, and I therefore
take this opportunity of acknowledging my general indebtedness to the
pioneer work of Mr. Hazlitt and Dr. Grosart, upon whose foundations all
editors of Herrick must necessarily build.
ALFRED W. POLLARD.
PREFACE.
It is singular that the first great age of English lyric poetry should
have been also the one great age of English dramatic poetry: but it is
hardly less singular that the lyric school should have advanced as
steadily as the dramatic school declined from the promise of its dawn.
Born with Marlowe, it rose at once with Shakespeare to heights
inaccessible before and since and for ever, to sink through bright
gradations of glorious decline to its final and beautiful sunset in
Shirley: but the lyrical record that begins with the author of "Euphues"
and "Endymion" grows fuller if not brighter through a whole chain of
constellations till it culminates in the crowning star of Herrick.
Shakespeare's last song, the exquisite and magnificent overture to "The
Two Noble Kinsmen," is hardly so limpid in its flow, so liquid in its
melody, as the two great songs in "Valentinian": but Herrick, our last
poet of that incomparable age or generation, has matched them again and
again. As a creative and inventive singer, he surpasses all his rivals
in quantity of good work; in quality of spontaneous instinct and
melodious inspiration he reminds us, by frequent and flawless evidence,
who above all others must beyond all doubt have been his first master
and his first model in lyric poetry--the author of "The Passionate
Shepherd to his Love".
The last of his line, he is and will probably be always the first in
rank and station of English song-writers. We have only to remember how
rare it is to find a perfect song, good to read and good to sing,
combining the merits of Coleridge and Shelley with the capabilities of
Tommy Moore and Haynes Bayly, to appreciate the unique and
unapproachable excellence of Herrick. The lyrist who wished to be a
butterfly, the lyrist who fled or flew to a lone vale at the hour
(whatever hour it may be) "when stars are weeping," have left behind
them such stuff as may be sung, but certainly cannot be read and endured
by any one with an ear for verse. The author of the Ode on France and
the author of the Ode to the West Wind have left us hardly more than a
song a-piece which has been found fit for setting to music: and, lovely
as they are, the fame of their authors does not mainly depend on the
song of Glycine or the song of which Leigh Hunt so justly and so
critically said that Beaumont and Fletcher never wrote anything of the
kind more lovely. Herrick, of course, lives simply by virtue of his
songs; his more ambitious or pretentious lyrics are merely magnified and
prolonged and elaborated songs. Elegy or litany, epicede or
epithalamium, his work is always a song-writer's; nothing more, but
nothing less, than the work of the greatest song-writer--as surely as
Shakespeare is the greatest dramatist--ever born of English race. The
apparent or external variety of his versification is, I should suppose,
incomparable; but by some happy tact or instinct he was too naturally
unambitious to attempt, like Jonson, a flight in the wake of Pindar. He
knew what he could not do: a rare and invaluable gift. Born a blackbird
or a thrush, he did not take himself (or try) to be a nightingale.
It has often been objected that he did mistake himself for a sacred
poet: and it cannot be denied that his sacred verse at its worst is as
offensive as his secular verse at its worst; nor can it be denied that
no severer sentence of condemnation can be passed upon any poet's work.
But neither Herbert nor Crashaw could have bettered such a divinely
beautiful triplet as this:--
"We see Him come, and know Him ours,
Who with His sunshine and His showers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers".
That is worthy of Miss Rossetti herself: and praise of such work can go
no higher.
But even such exquisite touches or tones of colour may be too often
repeated in fainter shades or more glaring notes of assiduous and facile
reiteration. The sturdy student who tackles his Herrick as a schoolboy
is expected to tackle his Horace, in a spirit of pertinacious and stolid
straightforwardness, will probably find himself before long so nauseated
by the incessant inhalation of spices and flowers, condiments and
kisses, that if a musk-rat had run over the page it could hardly be less
endurable to the physical than it is to the spiritual stomach. The
fantastic and the brutal blemishes which deform and deface the
loveliness of his incomparable genius are hardly so damaging to his fame
as his general monotony of matter and of manner. It was doubtless in
order to relieve this saccharine and "mellisonant" monotony that he
thought fit to intersperse these interminable droppings of natural or
artificial perfume with others of the rankest and most intolerable
odour: but a diet of alternate sweetmeats and emetics is for the average
of eaters and drinkers no less unpalatable than unwholesome. It is
useless and thankless to enlarge on such faults or such defects, as it
would be useless and senseless to ignore. But how to enlarge, to
expatiate, to insist on the charm of Herrick at his best--a charm so
incomparable and so inimitable that even English poetry can boast of
nothing quite like it or worthy to be named after it--the most
appreciative reader will be the slowest to affirm or imagine that he can
conjecture. This, however, he will hardly fail to remark: that Herrick,
like most if not all other lyric poets, is not best known by his best
work. If we may judge by frequency of quotation or of reference, the
ballad of the ride from Ghent to Aix is a far more popular, more
generally admired and accredited specimen of Mr. Browning's work than
"The Last Ride Together"--and "The Lost Leader" than "The Lost
Mistress". Yet the superiority of the less-popular poem is in either
case beyond all question or comparison: in depth and in glow of spirit
and of harmony, in truth and charm of thought and word, undeniable and
indescribable. No two men of genius were ever more unlike than the
authors of "Paracelsus" and "Hesperides": and yet it is as true of
Herrick as of Browning that his best is not always his best-known work.
Everyone knows the song, "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may"; few, I
fear, by comparison, know the yet sweeter and better song, "Ye have been
fresh and green". The general monotony of style and motive which
fatigues and irritates his too-persevering reader is here and there
relieved by a change of key which anticipates the note of a later and
very different lyric school. The brilliant simplicity and pointed grace
of the three stanzas to OEnone ("What conscience, say, is it in thee")
recall the lyrists of the Restoration in their cleanlier and happier
mood. And in the very fine epigram headed by the words "Devotion makes
the Deity" he has expressed for once a really high and deep thought in
words of really noble and severe propriety. His "Mad Maid's Song,"
again, can only be compared with Blake's; which has more of passionate
imagination, if less of pathetic sincerity.
A. C. SWINBURNE.
LIFE OF HERRICK.
Of the lives of many poets we know too much; of some few too little.
Lovers of Herrick are almost ideally fortunate. Just such a bare outline
of his life has come down to us as is sufficient to explain the
allusions in his poems, and, on the other hand, there is no temptation
to substitute chatter about his relations with Julia and Dianeme for
enjoyment of his delightful verse. The recital of the bare outline need
detain us but a few minutes: only the least imaginative of readers will
have any difficulty in filling it in from the poems themselves.
From early in the fourteenth century onwards we hear of the family of
Eyrick or Herrick at Stretton, in Leicestershire. At the beginning of
the sixteenth century we find a branch of it settled in Leicester
itself, where John Eyrick, the poet's grandfather, was admitted a
freeman in 1535, and afterwards acted as Mayor. This John's second son,
Nicholas, migrated to London, became a goldsmith in Wood Street,
Cheapside, and, according to a licence issued by the Bishop of London,
December 8, 1582, married Julian, daughter of William Stone, sister of
Anne, wife of Sir Stephen Soame, Lord Mayor of London in 1598. The
marriage was not unfruitful. A William[A] Herrick was baptized at St.
Vedast's, Foster Lane, November 24, 1585; Martha, January 22, 1586;
Mercy, December 22, 1586; Thomas, May 7, 1588; Nicholas, April 22, 1589;
Anne, July 26, 1590; and Robert himself, August 24, 1591.
[A] A second William is said to have been born, posthumously, in "Harry
Campion's house at Hampton," in 1593.
Fifteen months after the poet's birth, on November 7, 1592, Nicholas
Herrick made his will, estimating his property as worth ? 3000, and
devising it, as to one-third to his wife, and as to the other two-thirds
to his children in equal shares. In the will he described himself as "of
perfect memorye in sowle, but sicke in bodye". Two days after its
execution he was buried, having died, not from disease, but from a fall
from an upper window. His death had so much the appearance of
self-destruction that ? 220 had to be paid to the High Almoner, Dr.
Fletcher, Bishop of Bristol, in satisfaction of his official claim to
the goods and chattels of suicides. Herrick's biographers have not
failed to vituperate the Bishop for his avarice, but dues allowed by law
are hardly to be abandoned because a baby of fifteen months is destined
to become a brilliant poet, and no other exceptional circumstances are
alleged. The estate of Nicholas Herrick could the better afford the fine
inasmuch as it realized ? 2000 more than was expected.
By the will Robert and William Herrick were appointed "overseers," or
trustees for the children. The former was the poet's godfather, and in
his will of 1617 left him ? 5. To William Herrick, then recently knighted
for his services as goldsmith, jeweller, and moneylender to James I. ,
the young Robert was apprenticed for ten years, September 25, 1607. An
allusion to "beloved Westminster," in his _Tears to Thamesis_, has been
taken to refer to Westminster school, and alleged as proof that he was
educated there. Dr. Grosart even presses the mention of Richmond,
Kingston, and Hampton Court to support a conjecture that Herrick may
have travelled up and down to school from Hampton. If so, one wonders
what his headmaster had to say to the "soft-smooth virgins, for our
chaste disport" by whom he was accompanied. But the references in the
poem are surely to his courtier-life in London, and after his father's
death the apprenticeship to his uncle in 1607 is the first fact in his
life of which we can be sure.
In 1607, Herrick was fifteen, and, even if we conjecture that he may
have been allowed to remain at school some little time after his
apprenticeship nominally began, he must have served his uncle for five
or six years. Sir William had himself been bound apprentice in a similar
way to the poet's father, and we have no evidence that he exacted any
premium. At any rate, when in 1614, his nephew, then of age, desired to
leave the business and go to Cambridge, the ten years' apprenticeship
did not stand in his way, and he entered as a Fellow Commoner at St.
John's. His uncle plainly still managed his affairs, for an amusing
series of fourteen letters has been preserved at Beaumanor, until lately
the seat of Sir William's descendants, in which the poet asks sometimes
for payment of a quarterly stipend of ? 10, sometimes for a formal loan,
sometimes for the help of his avuncular Maecenas. It seems a fair
inference from this variety of requests that, since Herrick's share of
his father's property could hardly have yielded a yearly income of ? 40,
he was allowed to draw on his capital for this sum, but that his uncle
and Lady Herrick occasionally made him small presents, which may account
for his tone of dependence.
The quarterly stipend was paid through various booksellers, but
irregularly, so that the poor poet was frequently reduced to great
straits, though ? 40 a-year (? 200 of our money) was no bad allowance.
After two years he migrated from St. John's to Trinity Hall, to study
law and curtail his expenses. He took his Bachelor's degree from there
in January, 1617, and his Master's in 1620. The fourteen letters show
that he had prepared himself for University life by cultivating a very
florid prose style which frequently runs into decasyllabics, perhaps a
result of a study of the dramatists. Sir William Herrick is sometimes
addressed in them as his most "careful" uncle, but at the time of his
migration the poet speaks of his "ebbing estate," and as late as 1629 he
was still ? 10 16s. 9d. in debt to the College Steward. We can thus
hardly imagine that he was possessed of any considerable private income
when he returned to London, to live practically on his wits, and a study
of his poems suggests that, the influence of the careful uncle removed,
whatever capital he possessed was soon likely to vanish. [B] His verses
to the Earl of Pembroke, to Endymion Porter and to others, show that he
was glad of "pay" as well as "praise," but the system of patronage
brought no discredit with it, and though the absence of any poetical
mention of his uncle suggests that the rich goldsmith was not
well-pleased with his nephew, with the rest of his well-to-do relations
Herrick seems to have remained on excellent terms.
[B] Yet in his _Farewell to Poetry_ he distinctly says:--
"I've more to bear my charge than way to go";
the line, however, is a translation from his favourite Seneca, Ep. 77.
Besides patrons, such as Pembroke, Westmoreland, Newark, Buckingham,
Herrick had less distinguished friends at Court, Edward Norgate, Jack
Crofts and others. He composed the words for two New Year anthems which
were set to music by Henry Lawes, and he was probably personally known
both to the King and Queen. Outside the Court he reckoned himself one of
Ben Jonson's disciples, "Sons of Ben" as they were called, had friends
at the Inns of Court, knew the organist of Westminster Abbey and his
pretty daughters, and had every temptation to live an amusing and
expensive life. His poems were handed about in manuscript after the
fashion of the time, and wherever music and poetry were loved he was
sure to be a welcome guest.
Mr. Hazlitt's conjecture that Herrick at this time may have held some
small post in the Chapel at Whitehall is not unreasonable, but at what
date he took Holy Orders is not known. In 1627 he obtained the post of
chaplain to the unlucky expedition to the Isle of Rhe, and two years
later (September 30, 1629) he was presented by the King to the Vicarage
of Dean Prior, in Devonshire, which the promotion of its previous
incumbent, Dr. Potter, to the Bishopric of Carlisle, had left in the
royal gift. The annual value of the living was only ? 50 (? 250 present
value), no great prize, but the poem entitled _Mr. Robert Hericke: his
farwell unto Poetrie_ (not printed in _Hesperides_, but extant in more
than one manuscript version) shows that the poet was not unaware of the
responsibilities of his profession. "But unto me," he says to his Muse:
"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 sublime 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. "
Perhaps it was at this time too that Herrick wrote his _Farewell to
Sack_, and although he returned both to sack and to poetry we should be
wrong in imagining him as a "blind mouth," using his office merely as a
means of gain. He celebrated the births of Charles II and his brother in
verse, perhaps with an eye to future royal favours, but no more than
Chaucer's good parson does he seem to have "run to London unto Seynte
Poules" in search of the seventeenth century equivalent for a chauntry,
and many of his poems show him living the life of a contented country
clergyman, sharing the contents of bin and cruse with his poor
parishioners, and jotting down sermon-notes in verse.
The great majority of Herrick's poems cannot be dated, and it is idle to
enquire which were written before his ordination and which afterwards.
His conception of religion was medieval in its sensuousness, and he
probably repeated the stages of sin, repentance and renewed assurance
with some facility. He lived with an old servant, Prudence Baldwin, the
"Prew" of many of his poems; kept a spaniel named Tracy, and, so says
tradition, a tame pig. When his parishioners annoyed him he seems to
have comforted himself with epigrams on them; when they slumbered during
one of his sermons the manuscript was suddenly hurled at them with a
curse for their inattention.
In the same year that Herrick was appointed to his country vicarage his
mother died while living with her daughter, Mercy, the poet's dearest
sister (see 818), then for some time married to John Wingfield of
Brantham in Suffolk (see 590), by whom she had three sons and a
daughter, also called Mercy. His eldest brother, Thomas, had been placed
with a Mr. Massam, a merchant, but as early as 1610 had retired to live
a country life in Leicestershire (see 106). He appears to have married a
wife named Elizabeth, whose loss Herrick laments (see 72). Nicholas, the
next brother was more adventurous. He had become a merchant trading to
the Levant, and in this capacity had visited the Holy Land (see 1100).
To his wife Susanna, daughter of William Salter, Herrick addresses two
poems (522 and 977).
There were three sons and four daughters in this
family, and Herrick wrote a poem to one of the daughters, Bridget (562),
and an elegy on another, Elizabeth (376). When Mrs. Herrick died the
bulk of her property was left to the Wingfields, but William Herrick
received a legacy of ? 100, with ten pounds apiece to his two children,
and a ring of twenty shillings to his wife. Nicholas and Robert were
only left twenty-shilling rings, and the administration of the will was
entrusted to William Herrick and the Wingfields. The will may have been
the result of a family arrangement, and we have no reason to believe
that the unequal division gave rise to any ill-feeling. Herrick's
address to "his dying brother, Master William Herrick" (186), shows
abundant affection, and there is every reason to believe that it was
addressed to the William who administered to Mrs. Herrick's will.
While little nephews and nieces were springing up around him, Herrick
remained unmarried, and frequently congratulates himself on his freedom
from the yoke matrimonial. He imagined how he would bid farewell to his
wife, if he had one (465), and wrote magnificent epithalamia for his
friends, but lived and died a bachelor. When first civil troubles and
then civil war cast a shadow over the land, it is not very easy to say
how he viewed the contending parties. He was devoted to Charles and
Henrietta Maria and the young Prince of Wales, and rejoiced at every
Royalist success. Many also of his poems breathe the spirit of
unquestioning loyalty, but in others he is less certain of kingly
wisdom. Something, however, must be allowed for his evident habit of
versifying any phrase or epigram which impressed him, and not all his
poems need be regarded as expressions of his personal opinions. But with
whatever doubts his loyalty was qualified, it was sufficiently obvious
to procure his ejection from his living in 1648; and, making the best of
his loss, he bade farewell to Dean Prior, shook the dust of "loathed
Devonshire" off his feet, and returned gaily to London, where he appears
to have discarded his clerical habit and to have been made abundantly
welcome by his friends.
Free from the cares of his incumbency, and free also from the restraints
it imposed, Herrick's thoughts turned to the publication of his poems.
As we have said, in his old Court-days these had found some circulation
in manuscript, and in 1635 one of his fairy poems was printed, probably
without his leave (see Appendix). In 1639 his poem (575) _The Apparition
of his Mistress calling him to Elysium_ was licensed at Stationers' Hall
under the title of _His Mistress' Shade_, and it was included the next
year in an edition of Shakespeare's Poems (see Notes). On April 29,
1640, "The severall poems written by Master Robert Herrick," were
entered as to be published by Andrew Crook, but no trace of such a
volume has been discovered, and it was only in 1648 that _Hesperides_ at
length appeared. Two years later upwards of eighty of the poems in it
were printed in the 1650 edition of _Witt's Recreations_, but a small
number of these show considerable variations from the _Hesperides_
versions, and it is probable that they were printed from the poet's
manuscript. Compilers of other miscellanies and song books laid Herrick
under contribution, but, with the one exception of his contribution to
the _Lacrymae Musarum_ in 1649, no fresh production of his pen has been
preserved, and we know nothing further of his life save that he returned
to Dean Prior after the Restoration (August 24, 1662), and that
according to the parish register "Robert Herrick, Vicker, was buried
y^e 15th day October, 1674. "
ALFRED W. POLLARD
NOTE TO SECOND EDITION.
In this edition some trifling errors, which had crept into the text and
the numeration of the poems, have been corrected, and many fresh
illustrations of Herrick's reading added in the notes, which have
elsewhere been slightly compressed to make room for them. Almost all of
the new notes have been supplied from the manuscript collections of a
veteran student of Herrick who placed himself in correspondence with me
after the publication of my first edition. To my great regret I am not
allowed to make my acknowledgments to him by name.
A. W. P.
HESPERIDES:
OR,
THE WORKS
BOTH
HUMANE & DIVINE
OF
ROBERT HERRICK _Esq. _
OVID.
_Effugient avidos Carmina nostra Rogos. _
_LONDON. _
Printed for _John Williams_, and _Francis Eglesfield_,
and are to be sold by _Tho: Hunt_, Book-seller
in _Exon. _ 1648.
TO THE
MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND MOST HOPEFUL
PRINCE.
CHARLES,
PRINCE OF WALES.
Well may my book come forth like public day
When such a light as you are leads the way,
Who are my work's creator, and alone
The flame of it, and the expansion.
And look how all those heavenly lamps acquire
Light from the sun, that inexhausted fire,
So all my morn and evening stars from you
Have their existence, and their influence too.
Full is my book of glories; but all these
By you become immortal substances.
HESPERIDES.
1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK.
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers,
Of April, May, of June and July-flowers;
I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,
Of bridegrooms, brides and of their bridal cakes;
I write of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness;
I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by piece
Of balm, of oil, of spice and ambergris;
I sing of times trans-shifting, and I write
How roses first came red and lilies white;
I write of groves, of twilights, and I sing
The Court of Mab, and of the Fairy King;
I write of hell; I sing (and ever shall)
Of heaven, and hope to have it after all.
_Hock-cart_, the last cart from the harvest-field.
_Wakes_, village festivals, properly on the dedication-day of a church.
_Ambergris_, 'grey amber,' much used in perfumery.
2. TO HIS MUSE.
Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam?
Far safer 'twere to stay at home,
Where thou mayst sit and piping please
The poor and private cottages,
Since cotes and hamlets best agree
With this thy meaner minstrelsy.
There with the reed thou mayst express
The shepherd's fleecy happiness,
And with thy eclogues intermix
Some smooth and harmless bucolics.
There on a hillock thou mayst sing
Unto a handsome shepherdling,
Or to a girl, that keeps the neat,
With breath more sweet than 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 do not go
Or fly abroad to seek for woe.
Contempts in courts and cities dwell,
No critic haunts the poor man's cell,
Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read
By no one tongue there censured.
That man's unwise will search for ill,
And may prevent it, sitting still.
3. TO HIS BOOK.
While thou didst keep thy candour undefil'd,
Dearly I lov'd thee as my first-born child,
But when I saw thee wantonly to roam
From house to house, and never stay at home,
I brake my bonds of love, and bade thee go,
Regardless whether well thou sped'st or no.
On with thy fortunes then, whate'er they be:
If good, I'll smile; if bad, I'll sigh for thee.
4. ANOTHER.
To read my book the virgin shy
May blush while Brutus standeth by,
But when he's gone, read through what's writ,
And never stain a cheek for it.
_Brutus_, see Martial, xi. 16, quoted in Note at the end of the volume.
7. TO HIS BOOK.
Come thou not near those men who are like bread
O'er-leaven'd, or like cheese o'er-renneted.
8. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ.
In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse
The holy incantation of a verse;
But when that men have both well drunk and fed,
Let my enchantments then be sung or read.
When laurel spirts i'th' fire, and when the hearth
Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;
When up the thyrse[C] is rais'd, and when the sound
Of sacred orgies[D] flies, a round, a round.
When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine,
Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.
_Round_, a rustic dance.
_Cato_, see Martial, x. 17, quoted in Note.
[C] "A javelin twined with ivy" (Note in the original edition).
[D] "Songs to Bacchus" (Note in the original edition. )
9. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY.
Droop, droop no more, or hang the head,
Ye roses almost withered;
Now strength and newer purple get,
Each here declining violet.
O primroses! let this day be
A resurrection unto ye;
And to all flowers ally'd in blood,
Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood:
For health on Julia's cheek hath shed
Claret and cream commingled;
And those her lips do now appear
As beams of coral, but more clear.
_Beams_, perhaps here = branches: but cp. 440.
10. TO SILVIA TO WED.
Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed,
And loving lie in one devoted bed.
Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post-haste;
No sound calls back the year 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. _
11. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA.
I dreamt the roses one time went
To meet and sit in parliament;
The place for these, and for the rest
Of flowers, was thy spotless breast,
Over the which a state was drawn
Of tiffanie or cobweb lawn.
Then in that parly all those powers
Voted the rose the queen of flowers;
But so as that herself should be
The maid of honour unto thee.
_State_, a canopy.
_Tiffanie_, gauze.
_Parly_, a parliament.
12. NO BASHFULNESS IN BEGGING.
To get thine ends, lay bashfulness aside;
_Who fears to ask doth teach to be deny'd. _
13. THE FROZEN HEART.
I freeze, I freeze, and nothing dwells
In me but snow and icicles.
For pity's sake, give your advice,
To melt this snow and thaw this ice.
I'll drink down flames; but if so be
Nothing but love can supple me,
I'll rather keep this frost and snow
Than to be thaw'd or heated so.
14. TO PERILLA.
Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see
Me, day by day, to steal away from thee?
Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come,
And haste away to mine eternal home;
'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this,
That I must give thee the supremest kiss.
Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring
Part of the cream from that religious spring;
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 turf, and there
Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear:
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 cool and silent shades of sleep.
_Weekly strewings_, _i. e. _, of flowers on his grave.
_First cast in salt_, cp. 769.
15. A SONG TO THE MASKERS.
Come down and dance ye in the toil
Of pleasures to a heat;
But if to moisture, let the oil
Of roses be your sweat.
Not only to yourselves assume
These sweets, but let them fly
From this to that, and so perfume
E'en all the standers by;
As goddess Isis, when she went
Or glided through the street,
Made all that touched her, with her scent,
And whom she touched, turn sweet.
16. TO PERENNA.
When I thy parts run o'er, I can't espy
In any one the least indecency;
But every line and limb diffused thence
A fair and unfamiliar excellence:
So that the more I look the more I prove
There's still more cause why I the more should love.
_Indecency_, uncomeliness.
17. TREASON.
The seeds of treason choke up as they spring:
_He acts the crime that gives it cherishing_.
18. TWO THINGS ODIOUS.
Two of a thousand things are disallow'd:
A lying rich man, and a poor man proud.
19. TO HIS MISTRESSES.
Help me! help me! now I call
To my pretty witchcrafts all;
Old I am, and cannot do
That I was accustomed to.
Bring your magics, spells, and charms,
To enflesh my thighs and arms.
Is there no way to beget
In my limbs their former heat?
AEson had, as poets feign,
Baths that made him young again:
Find that medicine, if you can,
For your dry decrepit man
Who would fain his strength renew,
Were it but to pleasure you.
_AEson_, rejuvenated by Medea; see Ovid, Met. vii.
20. THE WOUNDED HEART.
Come bring your sampler, and with art
Draw in't a wounded heart
And dropping here and there:
Not that I think that any dart
Can make yours bleed a tear,
Or pierce it anywhere;
Yet do it to this end: that I
May by
This secret see,
Though you can make
That heart to bleed, yours ne'er will ache
For me.
21. NO LOATHSOMENESS IN LOVE.
What I fancy I approve,
_No dislike there is in love_.
Be my mistress short or tall,
And distorted therewithal:
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 show her tongue wag through;
Be her lips ill hung or set,
And her grinders black as jet:
Has she thin hair, hath she none,
She's to me a paragon.
22. TO ANTHEA.
If, dear Anthea, my hard fate it be
To live some few sad hours after thee,
Thy sacred corse with odours I will burn,
And with my laurel crown thy golden urn.
Then holding up there such religious things
As were, time past, thy holy filletings,
Near to thy reverend pitcher I will fall
Down dead for grief, and end my woes withal:
So three in one small plat of ground shall lie--
Anthea, Herrick, and his poetry.
23. THE WEEPING CHERRY.
I saw a cherry weep, and why?
Why wept it? but for shame
Because my Julia's lip was by,
And did out-red the same.
But, pretty fondling, let not fall
A tear at all for that:
Which rubies, corals, scarlets, all
For tincture wonder at.
24. SOFT MUSIC.
The mellow touch of music most doth wound
The soul when it doth rather sigh than sound.
25. THE DIFFERENCE BETWIXT KINGS AND SUBJECTS.
'Twixt kings and subjects there's this mighty odds:
Subjects are taught by men; kings by the gods.
26. HIS ANSWER TO A QUESTION.
Some would know
Why I so
Long still do tarry,
And ask why
Here that I
Live and not marry.
Thus I those
Do oppose:
What man would be here
Slave to thrall,
If at all
He could live free here?
27. UPON JULIA'S FALL.
Julia was careless, and withal
She rather took than got a fall,
The wanton ambler chanc'd to see
Part of her legs' sincerity:
And ravish'd thus, it came to pass,
The nag (like to the prophet's ass)
Began to speak, and would have been
A-telling what rare sights he'd seen:
And had told all; but did refrain
Because his tongue was tied again.
28. EXPENSES EXHAUST.
Live with a thrifty, not a needy fate;
_Small shots paid often waste a vast estate_.
_Shots_, debts.
29. LOVE, WHAT IT IS.
Love is a circle that doth restless move
In the same sweet eternity of love.
30. PRESENCE AND ABSENCE.
When what is lov'd is present, love doth spring;
But being absent, love lies languishing.
31. NO SPOUSE BUT A SISTER.
A bachelor I will
Live as I have liv'd still,
And never take a wife
To crucify my life;
But this I'll tell ye too,
What now I mean to do:
A sister (in the stead
Of wife) about I'll lead;
Which I will keep embrac'd,
And kiss, but yet be chaste.
32. THE POMANDER BRACELET.
To me my Julia lately sent
A bracelet richly redolent:
The beads I kissed, but most lov'd her
That did perfume the pomander.
_Pomander_, a ball of scent.
33. THE SHOE-TYING.
Anthea bade me tie her shoe;
I did; and kissed the instep too:
And would have kissed unto her knee,
Had not her blush rebuked me.
34. THE CARCANET.
Instead of orient pearls of jet
I sent my love a carcanet;
About her spotless neck she knit
The lace, to honour me or it:
Then think how rapt was I to see
My jet t'enthral such ivory.
_Carcanet_, necklace.
_Lace_, any kind of girdle; used here for the necklace.
35. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA.
When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone
Unto that watery desolation,
Devoutly to thy closet-gods then pray
That my wing'd ship may meet no remora.
