No More Learning

Thou mighty lord and master of the lyre,
Unshorn Apollo, come and re-inspire
My fingers so, the lyric-strings to move,
That I may play and sing a hymn to Love.


872. ON LOVE.

Love is a kind of war: hence those who fear!
No cowards must his royal ensigns bear.


873. ANOTHER.

Where love begins, there dead thy first desire:
_A spark neglected makes a mighty fire_.


874. A HYMN TO CUPID.

Thou, thou that bear'st the sway,
With whom the sea-nymphs play;
And Venus, every way:
When I embrace thy knee,
And make short pray'rs to thee,
In love then prosper me.
This day I go to woo;
Instruct me how to do
This work thou put'st me to.
From shame my face keep free;
From scorn I beg of thee,
Love, to deliver me:
So shall I sing thy praise,
And to thee altars raise,
Unto the end of days.


875. TO ELECTRA.

Let not thy tombstone e'er be laid by me:
Nor let my hearse be wept upon by thee:
But let that instant when thou diest be known
The minute of mine expiration.
One knell be rung for both; and let one grave
To hold us two an endless honour have.


876. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED.

My soul would one day go and seek
For roses, and in Julia's cheek
A richesse of those sweets she found,
As in another Rosamond.
But gathering roses as she was,
Not knowing what would come to pass,
It chanc'd a ringlet of her hair
Caught my poor soul, as in a snare:
Which ever since has been in thrall;
Yet freedom she enjoys withal.

_Richesse_, wealth.


877. FACTIONS.

The factions of the great ones call,
To side with them, the commons all.


881. UPON JULIA'S HAIR BUNDLED UP IN A GOLDEN NET.

Tell me, what needs those rich deceits,
These golden toils, and trammel nets,
To take thine hairs when they are known
Already tame, and all thine own?
'Tis I am wild, and more than hairs
Deserve these meshes and those snares.
Set free thy tresses, let them flow
As airs do breathe or winds do blow:
And let such curious net-works be
Less set for them than spread for me.


883. THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS.

Love in a shower of blossoms came
Down, and half drown'd me with the same:
The blooms that fell were white and red;
But with such sweets comminglèd,
As whether--this I cannot tell--
My sight was pleas'd more, or my smell:
But true it was, as I roll'd there,
Without a thought of hurt or fear,
Love turn'd himself into a bee,
And with his javelin wounded me:
From which mishap this use I make,
_Where most sweets are, there lies a snake:
Kisses and favours are sweet things;
But those have thorns and these have stings. _


885. A DEFENCE FOR WOMEN.

Naught are all women: I say no,
Since for one bad, one good I know:
For Clytemnestra most unkind,
Loving Alcestis there we find:
For one Medea that was bad,
A good Penelope was had:
For wanton Lais, then we have
Chaste Lucrece, a wife as grave:
And thus through womankind we see
A good and bad. Sirs, credit me.


887. SLAVERY.

'Tis liberty to serve one lord; but he
Who many serves, serves base servility.


888. CHARMS.

Bring the holy crust of bread,
Lay it underneath the head;
'Tis a certain charm to keep
Hags away, while children sleep.


889. ANOTHER.

Let the superstitious wife
Near the child's heart lay a knife:
Point be up, and haft be down
(While she gossips in the town);
This, 'mongst other mystic charms,
Keeps the sleeping child from harms.


890. ANOTHER TO BRING IN THE WITCH.

To house the hag, you must do this:
Commix with meal a little piss
Of him bewitch'd; then forthwith make
A little wafer or a cake;
And this rawly bak'd will bring
The old hag in. No surer thing.


891. ANOTHER CHARM FOR STABLES.

Hang up hooks and shears to scare
Hence the hag that rides the mare,
Till they be all over wet
With the mire and the sweat:
This observ'd, the manes shall be
Of your horses all knot-free.


892. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE.

Down with the rosemary and bays,
Down with the mistletoe;
Instead of holly, now up-raise
The greener box, for show.

The holly hitherto did sway;
Let box now domineer
Until the dancing Easter day,
Or Easter's eve appear.

Then youthful box which now hath grace
Your houses to renew;
Grown old, surrender must his place
Unto the crisped yew.

When yew is out, then birch comes in,
And many flowers beside;
Both of a fresh and fragrant kin
To honour Whitsuntide.

Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,
With cooler oaken boughs,
Come in for comely ornaments
To re-adorn the house.
Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold:
_New things succeed, as former things grow old_.

_Bents_, grasses.


893. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY.

Kindle the Christmas brand, and then
Till sunset let it burn;
Which quench'd, then lay it up again
Till Christmas next return.
Part must be kept wherewith to teend
The Christmas log next year,
And where 'tis safely kept, the fiend
Can do no mischief there.


894. UPON CANDLEMAS DAY.

End now the white loaf and the pie,
And let all sports with Christmas die.

_Teend_, kindle.


897. TO BIANCA, TO BLESS HIM.

Would I woo, and would I win?
Would I well my work begin?
Would I evermore be crowned
With the end that I propound?
Would I frustrate or prevent
All aspects malevolent?
Thwart all wizards, and with these
Dead all black contingencies:
Place my words and all works else
In most happy parallels?
All will prosper, if so be
I be kiss'd or bless'd by thee.


898. JULIA'S CHURCHING, OR PURIFICATION.

Put on thy holy filletings, and so
To th' temple with the sober midwife go.
Attended thus, in a most solemn wise,
By those who serve the child-bed mysteries,
Burn first thine incense; next, whenas thou see'st
The candid stole thrown o'er the pious priest,
With reverend curtsies come, and to him bring
Thy free (and not decurted) offering.
All rites well ended, with fair auspice come
(As to the breaking of a bride-cake) home,
Where ceremonious Hymen shall for thee
Provide a second epithalamy.
_She who keeps chastely to her husband's side
Is not for one, but every night his bride;
And stealing still with love and fear to bed,
Brings him not one, but many a maidenhead. _

_Candid_, white.
_Decurted_, curtailed.


899. TO HIS BOOK.

Before the press scarce one could see
A little-peeping-part of thee;
But since thou'rt printed, thou dost call
To show thy nakedness to all.
My care for thee is now the less,
Having resign'd thy shamefac'dness.
Go with thy faults and fates; yet stay
And take this sentence, then away:
Whom one belov'd will not suffice,
She'll run to all adulteries.


900. TEARS.

Tears most prevail; with tears, too, thou may'st move
Rocks to relent, and coyest maids to love.


901. TO HIS FRIEND TO AVOID CONTENTION OF WORDS.

Words beget anger; anger brings forth blows;
Blows make of dearest friends immortal foes.
For which prevention, sociate, let there be
Betwixt us two no more logomachy.
Far better 'twere for either to be mute,
Than for to murder friendship by dispute.

_Logomachy_, contention of words.


902. TRUTH.

Truth is best found out by the time and eyes;
_Falsehood wins credit by uncertainties_.


904. THE EYES BEFORE THE EARS.

We credit most our sight; one eye doth please
Our trust far more than ten ear-witnesses.


905. WANT.

Want is a softer wax, that takes thereon
This, that, and every base impression.


906. TO A FRIEND.

Look in my book, and herein see
Life endless signed to thee and me.
We o'er the tombs and fates shall fly;
While other generations die.


907. UPON M. WILLIAM LAWES, THE RARE MUSICIAN.

Should I not put on blacks, when each one here
Comes with his cypress and devotes a tear?
Should I not grieve, my Lawes, when every lute,
Viol, and voice is by thy loss struck mute?
Thy loss, brave man! whose numbers have been hurl'd,
And no less prais'd than spread throughout the world.
Some have thee call'd Amphion; some of us
Nam'd thee Terpander, or sweet Orpheus:
Some this, some that, but all in this agree,
Music had both her birth and death with thee.

_Blacks_, mourning garments.


908. A SONG UPON SILVIA.

From me my Silvia ran away,
And running therewithal
A primrose bank did cross her way,
And gave my love a fall.

But trust me now, I dare not say
What I by chance did see;
But such the drap'ry did betray
That fully ravished me.


909. THE HONEYCOMB.

If thou hast found an honeycomb,
Eat thou not all, but taste on some:
For if thou eat'st it to excess,
That sweetness turns to loathsomeness.
Taste it to temper, then 'twill be
Marrow and manna unto thee.


910. UPON BEN JONSON.

Here lies Jonson with the rest
Of the poets: but the best.
Reader, would'st thou more have known?
Ask his story, not this stone.
That will speak what this can't tell
Of his glory. So farewell.


911. AN ODE FOR HIM.

Ah Ben!
Say how, or when
Shall we thy guests
Meet at those lyric feasts
Made at the Sun,
The Dog, the Triple Tun?
Where we such clusters had,
As made us nobly wild, not mad;
And yet each verse of thine
Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.

My Ben!
Or come again,
Or send to us
Thy wit's great overplus;
But teach us yet
Wisely to husband it,
Lest we that talent spend:
And having once brought to an end
That precious stock; the store
Of such a wit the world should have no more.

_The Sun_, _etc. _, famous taverns.


912. UPON A VIRGIN.

Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hours
Selecting here both herbs and flowers;
Of which make garlands here and there
To dress thy silent sepulchre.
Nor do thou fear the want of these
_In everlasting properties_,
Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,
Far faster than the first can wither.


913. BLAME.

In battles what disasters fall,
The king he bears the blame of all.


914. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES.

Ponder my words, if so that any be
Known guilty here of incivility:
Let what is graceless, discompos'd, and rude,
With sweetness, smoothness, softness, be endu'd.
Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and show
Demure, but yet full of temptation, too.
_Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please,
Unless they have some wanton carriages. _
This if ye do, each piece will here be good,
And graceful made by your neat sisterhood.


915. UPON HIMSELF.

I lately fri'd, but now behold
I freeze as fast, and shake for cold.
And in good faith I'd thought it strange
T' have found in me this sudden change;
But that I understood by dreams
These only were but Love's extremes;
Who fires with hope the lover's heart,
And starves with cold the self-same part.


916. MULTITUDE.

We trust not to the multitude in war,
But to the stout, and those that skilful are.


917. FEAR.

Man must do well out of a good intent;
Not for the servile fear of punishment.


918. TO M. KELLAM.

What! can my Kellam drink his sack
In goblets to the brim,
And see his Robin Herrick lack,
Yet send no bowls to him?

For love or pity to his muse,
That she may flow in verse,
Contemn to recommend a cruse,
But send to her a tierce.


919. HAPPINESS TO HOSPITALITY; OR, A HEARTY WISH TO GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

First, may the hand of bounty bring
Into the daily offering
Of full provision such a store,
Till that the cook cries: Bring no more.
Upon your hogsheads never fall
A drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;
But, like full clouds, may they from thence
Diffuse their mighty influence.
Next, let the lord and lady here
Enjoy a Christ'ning year by year;
And this good blessing back them still,
T' have boys, and girls too, as they will.
Then from the porch may many a bride
Unto the holy temple ride:
And thence return, short prayers said,
A wife most richly married.
Last, may the bride and bridegroom be
Untouch'd by cold sterility;
But in their springing blood so play,
As that in lusters few they may,
By laughing too, and lying down,
People a city or a town.

_Wish_, om. orig. ed.
_Lusters_, quinquenniums.


920. CUNCTATION IN CORRECTION.

The lictors bundled up their rods; beside,
Knit them with knots with much ado unti'd,
That if, unknitting, men would yet repent,
They might escape the lash of punishment.


921. PRESENT GOVERNMENT GRIEVOUS.

_Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:
Subjects still loathe the present government. _


922. REST REFRESHES.

Lay by the good a while; a resting field
Will, after ease, a richer harvest yield;
Trees this year bear: next, they their wealth withhold:
_Continual reaping makes a land wax old_.


923. REVENGE.

_Man's disposition is for to requite
An injury, before a benefit:
Thanksgiving is a burden and a pain;
Revenge is pleasing to us, as our gain. _


924. THE FIRST MARS OR MAKES.
In all our high designments 'twill appear,
_The first event breeds confidence or fear_.


925. BEGINNING DIFFICULT.

_Hard are the two first stairs unto a crown:
Which got, the third bids him a king come down. _

926. FAITH FOUR-SQUARE.

Faith is a thing that's four-square; let it fall
This way or that, it not declines at all.


927. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH.

Praise they that will times past; I joy to see
Myself now live: _this age best pleaseth me_.


928. CLOTHES ARE CONSPIRATORS.

Though from without no foes at all we fear,
We shall be wounded by the clothes we wear.


929. CRUELTY.

_'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings,
For to delight in wounds and murderings:
As some plants prosper best by cuts and blows,
So kings by killing do increase their foes. _


930. FAIR AFTER FOUL.

_Tears quickly dry, griefs will in time decay:
A clear will come after a cloudy day. _


931. HUNGER.

Ask me what hunger is, and I'll reply,
'Tis but a fierce desire of hot and dry.


932. BAD WAGES FOR GOOD SERVICE.

In this misfortune kings do most excel,
To hear the worst from men when they do well.


933. THE END.

Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;
_'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end_.


934. THE BONDMAN.

Bind me but to thee with thine hair,
And quickly I shall be
Made by that fetter or that snare
A bondman unto thee.
Or if thou tak'st that bond away,
Then bore me through the ear,
And by the law I ought to stay
For ever with thee here.


935. CHOOSE FOR THE BEST.

Give house-room to the best; _'tis never known
Virtue and pleasure both to dwell in one_.


936. TO SILVIA.

Pardon my trespass, Silvia; I confess
My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefastness:
None is discreet at all times; no, _not Jove
Himself, at one time, can be wise and love_.


937. 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 Cæsar, 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 Cæsar! 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.