No More Learning

Like will to like, each creature loves his kind;
Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind.


1044. HIS HOPE OR SHEET ANCHOR.

Among these tempests great and manifold
My ship has here one only anchor-hold;
That is my hope, which if that slip, I'm one
Wildered in this vast wat'ry region.


1045. COMFORT IN CALAMITY.

'Tis no discomfort in the world to fall,
When the great crack not crushes one, but all.


1046. TWILIGHT.

The twilight is no other thing, we say,
Than night now gone, and yet not sprung the day.


1047. FALSE MOURNING.

He who wears blacks, and mourns not for the dead,
Does but deride the party buried.

_Blacks_, mourning garments.


1048. THE WILL MAKES THE WORK; OR, CONSENT MAKES THE CURE.

No grief is grown so desperate, but the ill
Is half way cured if the party will.


1049. DIET.

If wholesome diet can recure a man,
What need of physic or physician?


1050. SMART.

Stripes, justly given, yerk us with their fall;
But causeless whipping smarts the most of all.


1051. THE TINKER'S SONG.

Along, come along,
Let's meet in a throng
Here of tinkers;
And quaff up a bowl
As big as a cowl
To beer drinkers.
The pole of the hop
Place in the aleshop
To bethwack us,
If ever we think
So much as to drink
Unto Bacchus.
Who frolic will be
For little cost, he
Must not vary
From beer-broth at all,
So much as to call
For Canary.


1052. HIS COMFORT.

The only comfort of my life
Is, that I never yet had wife;
Nor will hereafter; since I know
Who weds, o'er-buys his weal with woe


1053. SINCERITY.

Wash clean the vessel, lest ye sour
Whatever liquor in ye pour.


1054. TO ANTHEA.

Sick is Anthea, sickly is the spring,
The primrose sick, and sickly everything;
The while my dear Anthea does but droop,
The tulips, lilies, daffodils do stoop:
But when again she's got her healthful hour,
Each bending then will rise a proper flower.


1055. NOR BUYING OR SELLING.

Now, if you love me, tell me,
For as I will not sell ye,
So not one cross to buy thee
I'll give, if thou deny me.

_Cross_, a coin.


1056. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, M. JO. WICKS.

Since shed or cottage I have none,
I sing the more, that thou hast one
To whose glad threshold, and free door,
I may a poet come, though poor,
And eat with thee a savoury bit,
Paying but common thanks for it.
Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see
An over-leaven look in thee,
To sour the bread, and turn the beer
To an exalted vinegar:
Or should'st thou prize me as a dish
Of thrice-boiled worts, or third-day's fish;
I'd rather hungry go and come,
Than to thy house be burdensome;
Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be
One that should drop his beads for thee.

_Worts_, cabbages.
_Drop his beads_, _i. e. _, pray.


1057. THE MORE MIGHTY, THE MORE MERCIFUL.

_Who may do most, does least: the bravest will
Show mercy there, where they have power to kill. _


1058. AFTER AUTUMN, WINTER.

Die ere long, I'm sure, I shall;
After leaves, the tree must fall.


1059. A GOOD DEATH.

For truth I may this sentence tell,
_No man dies ill, that liveth well_.


1060. RECOMPENSE.

Who plants an olive, but to eat the oil?
_Reward, we know, is the chief end of toil_.


1061. ON FORTUNE.

This is my comfort when she's most unkind:
She can but spoil me of my means, not mind.


1062. TO SIR GEORGE PARRY, DOCTOR OF THE CIVIL LAW.

I have my laurel chaplet on my head
If, 'mongst these many numbers to be read,
But one by you be hugg'd and cherished.

Peruse my measures thoroughly, and where
Your judgment finds a guilty poem, there
Be you a judge; but not a judge severe.

The mean pass by, or over, none contemn;
The good applaud; the peccant less condemn,
Since absolution you can give to them.

Stand forth, brave man, here to the public sight;
And in my book now claim a twofold right:
The first as doctor, and the last as knight.


1063. CHARMS.

This I'll tell ye by the way:
Maidens, when ye leavens lay,
Cross your dough, and your dispatch
Will be better for your batch.


1064. ANOTHER.

In the morning when ye rise,
Wash your hands and cleanse your eyes.
Next be sure ye have a care
To disperse the water far;
For as far as that doth light,
So far keeps the evil sprite.


1065. ANOTHER.

If ye fear to be affrighted
When ye are by chance benighted,
In your pocket for a trust
Carry nothing but a crust:
For that holy piece of bread
Charms the danger and the dread.


1067. GENTLENESS.

_That prince must govern with a gentle hand
Who will have love comply with his command. _


1068. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA WHEELER, UNDER THE
NAME OF AMARYLLIS.

_Her. _ My dearest love, since thou wilt go,
And leave me here behind thee,
For love or pity let me know
The place where I may find thee.

_Ama. _ In country meadows pearl'd with dew,
And set about with lilies,
There, filling maunds with cowslips, you
May find your Amaryllis.

_Her. _ What have the meads to do with thee,
Or with thy youthful hours?
Live thou at Court, where thou mayst be
The queen of men, not flowers.

Let country wenches make 'em fine
With posies, since 'tis fitter
For thee with richest gems to shine,
And like the stars to glitter.

_Ama. _ You set too high a rate upon
A shepherdess so homely.
_Her. _ Believe it, dearest, there's not one
I' th' Court that's half so comely.

I prithee stay. _Ama. _ I must away;
Let's kiss first, then we'll sever.
_Ambo. _ And though we bid adieu to-day,
We shall not part for ever.

_Maunds_, baskets.


1069. TO JULIA.

Help me, Julia, for to pray,
Matins sing, or matins say:
This, I know, the fiend will fly
Far away, if thou be'st by.
Bring the holy water hither,
Let us wash and pray together;
When our beads are thus united,
Then the foe will fly affrighted.

_Beads_, prayers.


1070. TO ROSES IN JULIA'S BOSOM.

Roses, you can never die,
Since the place wherein ye lie,
Heat and moisture mix'd are so
As to make ye ever grow.


1071. TO THE HONOURED MASTER ENDYMION PORTER.

When to thy porch I come and ravish'd see
The state of poets there attending thee,
Those bards and I, all in a chorus sing:
We are thy prophets, Porter, thou our king.


1072. SPEAK IN SEASON.

When times are troubled, then forbear; but speak
When a clear day out of a cloud does break.


1073. OBEDIENCE.

The power of princes rests in the consent
Of only those who are obedient:
Which if away, proud sceptres then will lie
Low, and of thrones the ancient majesty.


1074. ANOTHER OF THE SAME.

_No man so well a kingdom rules as he
Who hath himself obeyed the sovereignty. _


1075. OF LOVE.

1. Instruct me now what love will do.
2. 'Twill make a tongueless man to woo.
1. Inform me next, what love will do.
2. 'Twill strangely make a one of two.
1. Teach me besides, what love will do.
2. 'Twill quickly mar, and make ye too.
1. Tell me now last, what love will do.
2. 'Twill hurt and heal a heart pierc'd through.


1076. UPON TRAP.

Trap of a player turn'd a priest now is:
Behold a sudden metamorphosis.
If tithe-pigs fail, then will he shift the scene,
And from a priest turn player once again.


1080. THE SCHOOL OR PEARL OF PUTNEY, THE MISTRESS OF ALL SINGULAR
MANNERS, MISTRESS PORTMAN.

Whether I was myself, or else did see
Out of myself that glorious hierarchy;
Or whether those, in orders rare, or these
Made up one state of sixty Venuses;
Or whether fairies, syrens, nymphs they were,
Or muses on their mountain sitting there;
Or some enchanted place, I do not know,
Or Sharon, where eternal roses grow.
This I am sure: I ravished stood, as one
Confus'd in utter admiration.
Methought I saw them stir, and gently move,
And look as all were capable of love;
And in their motion smelt much like to flowers
Inspir'd by th' sunbeams after dews and showers.
There did I see the reverend rectress stand,
Who with her eye's gleam, or a glance of hand,
Those spirits raised; and with like precepts then,
As with a magic, laid them all again.
_A happy realm! When no compulsive law,
Or fear of it, but love keeps all in awe. _
Live you, great mistress of your arts, and be
A nursing mother so to majesty,
As those your ladies may in time be seen,
For grace and carriage, everyone a queen.
One birth their parents gave them; but their new,
And better being, they receive from you.
_Man's former birth is graceless; but the state
Of life comes in, when he's regenerate. _


1081. TO PERENNA.

Thou say'st I'm dull; if edgeless so I be,
I'll whet my lips, and sharpen love on thee.


1082. ON HIMSELF.

Let me not live if I not love:
Since I as yet did never prove
Where pleasures met, at last do find
All pleasures meet in womankind.


1083. ON LOVE.

That love 'twixt men does ever longest last
Where war and peace the dice by turns do cast.


1084. ANOTHER ON LOVE.

Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all
Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall.


1086. UPON CHUB.

When Chub brings in his harvest, still he cries,
"Aha, my boys! here's meat for Christmas pies! "
Soon after he for beer so scores his wheat,
That at the tide he has not bread to eat.


1087. PLEASURES PERNICIOUS.

Where pleasures rule a kingdom, never there
Is sober virtue seen to move her sphere.


1088. ON HIMSELF.

A wearied pilgrim, I have wandered here
Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year;
Long I have lasted in this world, 'tis true,
But yet those years that I have lived, but few.
Who by his grey hairs doth his lusters tell,
Lives not those years, but he that lives them well.
One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he
Of all those threescore, has not liv'd half three.
_He lives, who lives to virtue; men who cast
Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last. _

_Luster_, five years.


1089. TO M. LAURENCE SWETNAHAM.

Read thou my lines, my Swetnaham; if there be
A fault, 'tis hid if it be voic'd by thee.
Thy mouth will make the sourest numbers please:
How will it drop pure honey speaking these!


1090. HIS COVENANT; OR, PROTESTATION TO JULIA.

Why dost thou wound and break my heart,
As if we should for ever part?
Hast thou not heard an oath from me,
After a day, or two, or three,
I would come back and live with thee?
Take, if thou dost distrust that vow,
This second protestation now.
Upon thy cheek that spangled tear,
Which sits as dew of roses there,
That tear shall scarce be dried before
I'll kiss the threshold of thy door.
Then weep not, sweet; but thus much know,
I'm half return'd before I go.


1091. ON HIMSELF.

I will no longer kiss,
I can no longer stay;
The way of all flesh is
That I must go this day.
Since longer I can't live,
My frolic youths, adieu;
My lamp to you I'll give,
And all my troubles too.


1092. TO THE MOST ACCOMPLISHED GENTLEMAN, M. MICHAEL OULSWORTH.

Nor think that thou in this my book art worst,
Because not plac'd here with the midst, or first.
Since fame that sides with these, or goes before
Those, that must live with thee for evermore;
That fame, and fame's rear'd pillar, thou shalt see
In the next sheet, brave man, to follow thee.
Fix on that column then, and never fall,
Held up by Fame's eternal pedestal.

_In the next sheet. _ See 1129.


1093. TO HIS GIRLS, WHO WOULD HAVE HIM SPORTFUL.

Alas! I can't, for tell me, how
Can I be gamesome, aged now?
Besides, ye see me daily grow
Here, winter-like, to frost and snow;
And I, ere long, my girls, shall see
Ye quake for cold to look on me.


1094. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.

_Truth by her own simplicity is known,
Falsehood by varnish and vermilion. _


1095. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA.

I have been wanton and too bold, I fear,
To chafe o'ermuch the virgin's cheek or ear.
Beg for my pardon, Julia: _he doth win
Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin_.
That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come
And go with me to choose my burial room:
My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies,
Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes.


1096. ON HIMSELF.

One ear tingles; some there be
That are snarling now at me:
Be they those that Homer bit,
I will give them thanks for it.


1097. UPON KINGS.

_Kings must be dauntless; subjects will contemn
Those who want hearts and wear a diadem. _


1098. TO HIS GIRLS.

Wanton wenches, do not bring
For my hairs black colouring:
For my locks, girls, let 'em be
Grey or white, all's one to me.


1100. TO HIS BROTHER, NICHOLAS HERRICK.

What others have with cheapness seen and ease
In varnish'd maps, by th' help of compasses,
Or read in volumes and those books with all
Their large narrations incanonical,
Thou hast beheld those seas and countries far,
And tell'st to us what once they were, and are.
So that with bold truth thou can'st now relate
This kingdom's fortune, and that empire's fate:
Can'st talk to us of Sharon, where a spring
Of roses have an endless flourishing;
Of Sion, Sinai, Nebo, and with them
Make known to us the new Jerusalem;
The Mount of Olives, Calvary, and where
Is, and hast seen, thy Saviour's sepulchre.
So that the man that will but lay his ears
As inapostate to the thing he hears,
Shall by his hearing quickly come to see
The truth of travels less in books than thee.

_Large_, exaggerated.
_Incanonical_, untrustworthy.


1101. THE VOICE AND VIOL.

Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing
To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing.


1102. WAR.

If kings and kingdoms once distracted be,
The sword of war must try the sovereignty


1103. A KING AND NO KING.

_That prince who may do nothing but what's just,
Rules but by leave, and takes his crown on trust. _


1104. PLOTS NOT STILL PROSPEROUS.

All are not ill plots that do sometimes fail;
Nor those false vows which ofttimes don't prevail.


1105. FLATTERY.

What is't that wastes a prince? example shows,
'Tis flattery spends a king, more than his foes.


1109. EXCESS.

Excess is sluttish: keep the mean; for why?
Virtue's clean conclave is sobriety.

_Conclave_, guard.


1111. THE SOUL IS THE SALT.

The body's salt the soul is; which when gone,
The flesh soon sucks in putrefaction.


1117. ABSTINENCE.

Against diseases here the strongest fence
Is the defensive virtue, abstinence.


1118. NO DANGER TO MEN DESPERATE.

When fear admits no hope of safety, then
Necessity makes dastards valiant men.


1119. SAUCE FOR SORROWS.

Although our suffering meet with no relief,
_An equal mind is the best sauce for grief_.


1120. TO CUPID.

I have a leaden, thou a shaft of gold;
Thou kill'st with heat, and I strike dead with cold.
Let's try of us who shall the first expire;
Or thou by frost, or I by quenchless fire:
_Extremes are fatal where they once do strike,
And bring to th' heart destruction both alike_.


1121. DISTRUST.

Whatever men for loyalty pretend,
_'Tis wisdom's part to doubt a faithful friend_.


1123. THE MOUNT OF THE MUSES.

After thy labour take thine ease,
Here with the sweet Pierides.
But if so be that men will not
Give thee the laurel crown for lot;
Be yet assur'd, thou shall have one
Not subject to corruption.


1124. ON HIMSELF.

I'll write no more of love; but now repent
Of all those times that I in it have spent.
I'll write no more of life; but wish 'twas ended,
And that my dust was to the earth commended.


1125. TO HIS BOOK.

Go thou forth, my book, though late:
Yet be timely fortunate.
It may chance good luck may send
Thee a kinsman, or a friend,
That may harbour thee, when I
With my fates neglected lie.
If thou know'st not where to dwell,
See, the fire's by: farewell.


1126. THE END OF HIS WORK.

Part of the work remains; one part is past:
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.


1127. TO CROWN IT.

My wearied bark, O let it now be crown'd!
The haven reach'd to which I first was bound.


1128. ON HIMSELF.

The work is done: young men and maidens, set
Upon my curls the myrtle coronet
Washed with sweet ointments: thus at last I come
To suffer in the Muses' martyrdom;
But with this comfort, if my blood be shed,
The Muses will wear blacks when I am dead.

_Blacks_, mourning garments.


1129. THE PILLAR OF FAME.

Fame's pillar here, at last, we set,
Outduring marble, brass, or jet.
Charm'd and enchanted so
As to withstand the blow
Of o v e r t h r o w;
Nor shall the seas,
Or o u t r a g e s
Of storms o'erbear
What we uprear.
Tho' kingdoms fall,
This pillar never shall
Decline or waste at all;
But stand for ever by his own
Firm and well-fix'd foundation.


To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:
_Jocund his muse was, but his life was chaste_.




HIS

NOBLE NUMBERS:

_OR_,

HIS PIOUS PIECES,

Wherein (amongst other things)

he sings the Birth of his CHRIST;
and sighes for his _Saviours_ suffering
on the _Crosse_.


HESIOD.


? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? .
? ? ? ? ? ? ', ? ? ? ' ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? , ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? .

[Illustration]


LONDON
Printed for _John Williams_, and _Francis Eglesfield_.
1647.




HIS NOBLE NUMBERS:

OR,

HIS PIOUS PIECES.


1. HIS CONFESSION.

Look how our foul days do exceed our fair;
And as our bad, more than our good works are,
E'en so those lines, pen'd by my wanton wit,
Treble the number of these good I've writ.
Things precious are least numerous: men are prone
To do ten bad for one good action.


2. HIS PRAYER FOR ABSOLUTION.

For those my unbaptised rhymes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed times;
For every sentence, clause, and word,
That's not inlaid with Thee, my Lord,
Forgive me, God, and blot each line
Out of my book that is not Thine.
But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one
Worthy Thy benediction;
That one of all the rest shall be
The glory of my work and me.


3. TO FIND GOD.

Weigh me the fire; or canst thou find
A way to measure out the wind;
Distinguish all those floods that are
Mix'd in that watery theatre;
And taste thou them as saltless there
As in their channel first they were.
Tell me the people that do keep
Within the kingdoms of the deep;
Or fetch me back that cloud again
Beshiver'd into seeds of rain;
Tell me the motes, dust, sands, and spears
Of corn, when summer shakes his ears;
Show me that world of stars, and whence
They noiseless spill their influence:
This if thou canst, then show me Him
That rides the glorious cherubim.

_Keep_, abide.


4. WHAT GOD IS.

God is above the sphere of our esteem,
And is the best known, not defining Him.


5. UPON GOD.