Poems — Not Included in Hesperides
The Description of a Woman
Whose head, befringed with bescattered tresses,
Shows like Apollo’s when the morn he dresses,B
Or like Aurora when with pearl she sets
Her long, dishevell’d, rose-crown’d trammelets:
Her forehead smooth, full, polish’d, bright and high
Bears in itself a graceful majesty,
Under the which two crawling eyebrows twine
Like to the tendrils of a flatt’ring vine,
Under whose shade two starry sparkling eyes
Are beautifi’d with fair fring’d canopies.
Her comely nose, with uniformal grace,
Like purest white, stands in the middle place,
Parting the pair, as we may well suppose.
Each cheek resembling still a damask rose,
Which like a garden manifestly show
How roses, lilies, and carnations grow,
Which sweetly mixed both with white and red,
Like rose leaves, white and red, seemC mingled.
Then nature for a sweet allurement sets
Two smelling, swelling, bashful cherrylets,
The which with ruby redness being tipp’d,
Do speak a virgin, merry, cherry-lipp’d.
Over the which a neat, sweet skin is drawn,
Which makes them show like roses under lawn:
These be the ruby portals, and divine,
Which ope themselves to show a holy shrine
Whose breath is rich perfume, that to the sense
Smells like the burn’d Sabean frankincense:
In which the tongue, though but a member small,
Stands guarded with a rosy-hilly wall;
And her white teeth, which in the gums are set
Like pearl and gold, make one rich cabinet.
Next doth her chin with dimpled beauty strive
For his white, plump, and smooth prerogative;
At whose fair top, to please the sight, there grows
The fairestD image of a blushing rose,
Mov’d by the chin, whose motion causeth this,
That both her lips do part, do meet, do kiss;
Her ears, which like two labyrinths are plac’d
On either side, with rich rare jewels grac’d,
Moving a question whether that by them
The gem is grac’d, or they grac’d by the gem.
But the foundation of the architect
Is the swan-staining, fair, rare, stately neck
Which with ambitious humbleness stands under,
Bearing aloft this rich, round world of wonder.
Her breast, a place for beauty’s throne most fit,
Bears up two globes where love and pleasure sit,
Which, headed with two rich, round rubies, show
Like wanton rosebuds growing out of snow;
And in the milky valley that’s between
Sits Cupid, kissing of his mother queen,
Fingering the paps that feel like sieved silk,
And press’d a little they will weep pure milk.
Then comes the belly, seated next below,
Like a fair mountain in Riphean snow,
Where Nature, in a whiteness without spot,
Hath in the middle tied a Gordian knot.
Now love invites me to survey her thighs,
Swelling in likeness like two crystal skies,
Which to the knees by Nature fastened on,
Derive their ever well ‘greed motion.
Her legs with two clear calves, like silver tri’d,
Kindly swell up with little pretty pride,
Leaving a distance for the comelyE small
To beautify the leg and foot withal.
Then lowly, yet most lovely stand the feet,
Round, short and clear, like pounded spices sweet,
And whatsoever thing they tread upon
They make it scent like bruised cinnamon.
The lovely shoulders now allure the eye
To see two tablets of pure ivory
From which two arms like branches seem to spread
With tender rindF and silver coloured,
With little hands and fingers long and small
To grace a lute, a viol, virginal.
In length each finger doth his next excel,
Each richly headed with a pearly shell.
Thus every part in contrariety
Meet in the whole and make a harmony,
As divers strings do singly disagree,
But form’d by number make sweet melody.
Mr. Herrick: his Daughter’s Dowry
Ere I go hence and be no more
Seen to the world, I’ll give the score
I owe unto a female child,
And that is this, a verse enstyled
My daughter’s dowry; having which,
I’ll leave thee then completely rich.
Instead of gold, pearl, rubies, bonds
Long forfeit, pawned diamonds
Or antique pledges, house or land,
I give thee this that shall withstand
The blow of ruin and of chance.
These hurt not thine inheritance,
For ’tis fee simple and no rent
Thou fortune ow’st for tenement.
However after times will praise,
This portion, my prophetic bays,
Cannot deliver up to th’ rust,
Yet I keep peaceful in my dust.
As for thy birth and better seeds
(Those which must grow to virtuous deeds),
Thou didst derive from that old stem
(Love and mercy cherish them),
Which like a vestal virgin ply
With holy fire lest that it die.
Grow up with milder laws to know
At what time to say aye or no;
Let manners teach thee where to be
More comely flowing, where less free.
These bring thy husband, like to those
Old coins and medals we expose
To th’ show, but never part with. Next,
As in a more conspicuous text,
Thy forehead, let therein be sign’d
The maiden candour of thy mind;
And under it two chaste-born spies
To bar out bold adulteries,
For through these optics fly the darts
Of lust which set on fire our hearts.
On either side of these quick ears
There must be plac’d, for seasoned fears
Which sweeten love, yet ne’er come nigh
The plague of wilder jealousy.
Then let each cheek of thine entice
His soul as to a bed of spice
Where he may roll and lose his sense,
As in a bed of frankincense.
A lip enkindled with that coal
With which love chafes and warms the soul,
Bring to him next, and in it show
Love’s cherries from such fires grow
And have their harvest, which must stand
The gathering of the lip, not hand;
Then unto these be it thy care
To clothe thy words in gentle air,
That smooth as oil, sweet, soft and clean
As is the childish bloom of bean,
They may fall down and stroke, as the
Beams of the sun the peaceful sea.
With hands as smooth as mercy’s bring
Him for his better cherishing,
That when thou dost his neck ensnare,
Or with thy wrist, or flattering hair,
He may, a prisoner, there descry
Bondage more loved than liberty.
A nature so well formed, so wrought
To calm and tempest, let be brought
With thee, that should he but incline
To roughness, clasp him like a vine,
Or like as wool meets steel, give way
Unto the passion, not to stay;
Wrath, if resisted, over-boils,
If not, it dies or else recoils.
And lastly, see you bring to him
Somewhat peculiar to each limb;
And I charge thee to be known
By n’other face but by thine own.
Let it in love’s name be kept sleek,
Yet to be found when he shall seek
It, and not instead of saint
Give up his worth unto the paint;
For, trust me, girl, she over-does
Who by a double proxy woos.
But lest I should forget his bed,
Be sure thou bring a maidenhead.
That is a margarite, which lost,
Thou bring’st unto his bed a frost
Or a cold poison, which his blood
Benumbs like the forgetful flood.
Now for some jewels to supply
The want of earrings’ bravery
For public eyes; take only these
Ne’er travelled for beyond the seas;
They’re nobly home-bred, yet have price
Beyond the far-fet merchandise:
Obedience, wise distrust, peace, shy
Distance and sweet urbanity;
Safe modesty, lov’d patience, fear
Of offending, temperance, dear
Constancy, bashfulness and all
The virtues less or cardinal,
Take with my blessing, and go forth
Enjewelled with thy native worth.
And now if there a man be found
That looks for such prepared ground,
Let him, but with indifferent skill,
So good a soil bestock and till;
He may ere long have such a wife
Nourish in’s breast a tree of life.
Mr. Robert Herrick: his Farewell unto Poetry
I have beheld two lovers in a night
Hatched o’er with moonshine from their stolen delight
(When this to that, and that to this, had given
A kiss to such a jewel of the heaven,
Or while that each from other’s breath did drink
Health to the rose, the violet, or pink),
Call’d on the sudden by the jealous mother,
Some stricter mistress or suspicious other,
Urging divorcement (worse than death to these)
By the soon jingling of some sleepy keys,
Part with a hasty kiss; and in that show
How stay they would, yet forced they are to go.
Even such are we, and in our parting do
No otherwise than as those former two
Natures like ours, we who have spent our time
Both from the morning to the evening chime.
Nay, till the bellman of the night had tolled
Past noon of night, yet wear the hours not old
Nor dulled with iron sleep, but have outworn
The fresh and fairest nourish of the morn
With flame and rapture; drinking to the odd
Number of nine which makes us full with God,
And in that mystic frenzy we have hurled,
As with a tempest, nature through the world,
And in a whirlwind twirl’d her home, aghast
At that which in her ecstasy had past;
Thus crowned with rosebuds, sack, thou mad’st me fly
Like fire-drakes, yet didst me no harm thereby.
O thou almighty nature, who didst give
True heat wherewith humanity doth live
Beyond its stinted circle, giving food,
White fame and resurrection to the good;
Shoring them up ‘bove ruin till the doom,
The general April of the world doth come
That makes all equal. Many thousands should,
Were’t not for thee, have crumbled into mould,
And with their serecloths rotted, not to show
Whether the world such spirits had or no,
Whereas by thee those and a million since,
Nor fate, nor envy, can their fames convince.
Homer, Musæus, Ovid, Maro, more
Of those godful prophets long before
Held their eternal fires, and ours of late
(Thy mercy helping) shall resist strong fate,
Nor stoop to the centre, but survive as long
As fame or rumour hath or trump or tongue;
But unto me be only hoarse, since now
(Heaven and my soul bear record of my vow)
I my desires screw from thee, and direct
Them and my thoughts to that sublim’d respect
And conscience unto priesthood; ’tis not need
(The scarecrow unto mankind) that doth breed
Wiser conclusions in me, since I know
I’ve more to bear my charge than way to go,
Or had I not, I’d stop the spreading itch
Of craving more, so in conceit be rich;
But ’tis the God of Nature who intends
And shapes my function for more glorious ends.
Kiss, so depart, yet stay a while to see
The lines of sorrow that lie drawn in me
In speech, in picture; no otherwise than when,
Judgment and death denounced ’gainst guilty men,
Each takes a weeping farewell, racked in mind
With joys before and pleasures left behind;
Shaking the head, whilst each to each doth mourn,
With thought they go whence they must ne’er return.
So with like looks, as once the ministrel
Cast, leading his Eurydice through hell,
I strike thy love, and greedily pursue
Thee with mine eyes or in or out of view.
So looked the Grecian orator when sent
From’s native country into banishment,
Throwing his eyeballs backward to survey
The smoke of his beloved Attica;
So Tully looked when from the breasts of Rome
The sad soul went, not with his love, but doom,
Shooting his eyedarts ’gainst it to surprise
It, or to draw the city to his eyes.
Such is my parting with thee, and to prove
There was not varnish only in my love,
But substance, lo! receive this pearly tear
Frozen with grief and place it in thine ear.
Then part in name of peace, and softly on
With numerous feet to hoofy Helicon;
And when thou art upon that forked hill
Amongst the thrice three sacred virgins, fill
A full-brimm’d bowl of fury and of rage,
And quaff it to the prophets of our age;
When drunk with rapture curse the blind and lame,
Base ballad-mongers who usurp thy name
And foul thy altar; charm some into frogs,
Some to be rats, and others to be hogs;
Into the loathsom’st shapes thou canst devise
To make fools hate them, only by disguise;
Thus with a kiss of warmth and love I part
Not so, but that some relic in my heart
Shall stand for ever, though I do address
Chiefly myself to what I must profess.
Know yet, rare soul, when my diviner muse
Shall want a handmaid (as she oft will use),
Be ready, thou for me, to wait upon her,
Though as a servant, yet a maid of honour.
The crown of duty is our duty: well
Doing’s the fruit of doing well. Farewell.
Shoring, copies soaring.
A Carol Presented to Dr. Williams, Bishop of Lincoln as a New-Year’s Gift
Fly hence, pale care, no more remember
Past sorrows with the fled December,
But let each pleasant cheek appear
Smooth as the childhood of the year,
And sing a carol here.
’Twas brave, ’twas brave, could we command the hand
Of youth’s swift watch to stand
As you have done your day;
Then should we not decay.
But all we wither, and our light
Is spilt in everlasting night,
Whenas your sight
Shows like the heavens above the moon,
Like an eternal noon
That sees no setting sun.
Keep up those flames, and though you shroud
Awhile your forehead in a cloud,
Do it like the sun to write
In the air a greater text of light;
Welcome to all our vows,
And since you pay
To us this day
So long desir’d,
See we have fir’d
Our holy spikenard, and there’s none
But brings his stick of cinnamon,
His eager eye or smoother smile,
And lays it gently on the pile,
Which thus enkindled, we invoke
Your name amidst the sacred smoke.
Chorus. Come then, great Lord.
And see our altar burn
With love of your return,
And not a man here but consumes
His soul to glad you in perfumes.
Song. His Mistress to Him at His Farewell
You may vow I’ll not forget
To pay the debt
Which to thy memory stands as due
As faith can seal it you;
Take then tribute of my tears,
So long as I have fears
To prompt me I shall ever
Languish and look, but thy return see never.
Oh then to lessen my despair
Print thy lips into the air,
So by this
Means I may kiss thy kiss
Whenas some kind
Wind
Shall hither waft it, and in lieu
My lips shall send a 1000 back to you.
Upon Parting
Go hence away, and in thy parting know
’Tis not my voice but Heaven’s that bids thee go;
Spring hence thy faith, nor think it ill desert
I find in thee that makes me thus to part.
But voice of fame, and voice of Heaven have thundered
We both were lost, if both of us not sundered.
Fold now thine arms, and in thy last look rear
One sigh of love, and cool it with a tear.
Since part we must, let’s kiss; that done, retire
With as cold frost as erst we met with fire;
With such white vows as fate can ne’er dissever,
But truth knit fast; and so, farewell for ever.
Upon Master Fletcher’s Incomparable Plays
Apollo sings, his harp resounds: give room,
For now behold the golden pomp is come,
Thy pomp of plays which thousands come to see
With admiration both of them and thee.
O volume! worthy, leaf by leaf and cover,
To be with juice of cedar wash’d all over;
Here words with lines and lines with scenes consent
To raise an act to full astonishment;
Here melting numbers, words of power to move
Young men to swoon and maids to die for love.
Love lies a-bleeding here, Evadne, there
Swells with brave rage, yet comely everywhere;
Here’s A mad lover, there that high design
Of King and no King, and the rare plot thine.
So that whene’er we circumvolve our eyes,
Such rich, such fresh, such sweet varieties
Ravish our spirits, that entranc’d we see
None writes love’s passion in the world like thee.
The New Charon: Upon the Death of Henry, Lord Hastings
The musical part being set by Mr. Henry Lawes.
The Speakers,
charon and eucosmia.
Euc. Charon, O Charon, draw thy boat to th’ shore,
And to thy many take in one soul more.
Cha. Who calls? who calls? Euc. One overwhelm’d with ruth;
Have pity either on my tears or youth,
And take me in who am in deep distress;
But first cast off thy wonted churlishness.
Cha. I will be gentle as that air which yields
A breath of balm along the Elysian fields.
Speak, what art thou? Euc. One once that had a lover,
Than which thyself ne’er wafted sweeter over.
He was—— Cha. Say what? Euc. Ah me, my woes are deep.
Cha. Prithee relate, while I give ear and weep.
Euc. He was a Hastings; and that one name has
In it all good that is, and ever was.
He was my life, my love, my joy, but died
Some hours before I should have been his bride.
Chorus. Thus, thus the gods celestial still decree,
For human joy contingent misery.
Euc. The hallowed tapers all prepared were,
And Hymen call’d to bless the rites. Cha. Stop there.
Euc. Great are my woes. Cha. And great must that grief be
That makes grim Charon thus to pity thee.
But now come in. Euc. More let me yet relate.
Cha. I cannot stay; more souls for waftage wait
And I must hence. Euc. Yet let me thus much know,
Departing hence, where good and bad souls go?
Cha. Those souls which ne’er were drench’d in pleasure’s stream,
The fields of Pluto are reserv’d for them;
Where, dress’d with garlands, there they walk the ground
Whose blessed youth with endless flowers is crown’d.
But such as have been drown’d in this wild sea,
For those is kept the Gulf of Hecate,
Where with their own contagion they are fed,
And there do punish and are punished.
This known, the rest of thy sad story tell
When on the flood that nine times circles hell.
Chorus. We sail along to visit mortals never;
But there to live where love shall last for ever.
Epitaph on the Tomb of Sir Edward Giles and His Wife in the South Aisle of Dean Prior Church, Devon
No trust to metals nor to marbles, when
These have their fate and wear away as men;
Times, titles, trophies may be lost and spent,
But virtue rears the eternal monument.
What more than these can tombs or tombstones pay?
But here’s the sunset of a tedious day:
These two asleep are: I’ll but be undress’d
And so to bed: pray wish us all good rest.
Footnotes
A His spaniel. (Note in the original edition.)
B MS. blesses.
C MS. lye.
D MS. blessed.
E MS. beauteous.
F W.R. vein’d.
Notes
569. And of any wood ye see, You can make a Mercury. Pythagoras allegorically said that Mercury’s statue could not be made of every sort of wood: cp. Rabelais, iv. 62.
575. The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium. An earlier version of this poem was printed in the 1640 edition of Shakespeare’s poems under the title, His Mistris Shade, having been licensed for separate publication at Stationers’ Hall the previous year. The variants are numerous, and some of them important. l. 1, of silver for with silv’rie; l. 3, on the Banks for in the Meads; l. 8, Spikenard through for Storax from; l. 10 reads: “Of mellow Apples, ripened Plums and Pears”: l. 17, the order of “naked younglings, handsome striplings” is reversed; in place of l. 20 we have:—
“So soon as each his dangling locks hath crown’d
With Rosie Chaplets, Lilies, Pansies red,
Soft Saffron Circles to perfume the head”;
l. 23, to for too unto; l. 24, their for our; ll. 29, 30:—
“Unto the Prince of Shades, whom once his Pen
Entituled the Grecian Prince of Men”;
l. 31, thereupon for and that done; l. 36, render him true for show him truly; l. 37, will for shall; l. 38, “Where both may laugh, both drink, both rage together”; l. 48, Amphitheatre for spacious theatre; l. 49, synod for glories, followed by:—
“crown’d with sacred Bays
And flatt’ring joy, we’ll have to recite their plays,
Shakespeare and Beamond, Swans to whom the Spheres
Listen while they call back the former year[s]
To teach the truth of scenes, and more for thee,
There yet remains, brave soul, than thou can’st see,”
etc.;
l. 56, illustrious for capacious; l. 57, shall be for now is [Jonson died 1637]; ll. 59-61:—
“To be of that high Hierarchy where none
But brave souls take illumination
Immediately from heaven; but hark the cock,” etc.;
l. 62, feel for see; l. 63, through for from.
579. My love will fit each history. Cp. Ovid, Amor. II. iv. 44: Omnibus historiis se meus aptat amor.
580. The sweets of love are mixed with tears. Cp. Propert. I. xii. 16: Nonnihil adspersis gaudet Amor lacrimis.
583. Whom this morn sees most fortunate, etc. Seneca, Thyest. 613: Quem dies vidit veniens superbum Hunc dies vidit fugiens jacentem.
586. Night hides our thefts, etc. Ovid, Ars Am. i. 249:—
Nocte latent mendæ vitioque ignoscitur omni,
Horaque formosam quamlibet illa facit.
590. To his brother-in-law, Master John Wingfield. Of Brantham, Suffolk, husband of the poet’s sister, Mercy. See 818, and Sketch of Herrick’s Life in vol. i.
599. Upon Lucia. Cp. “The Resolution” in Speculum Amantis, ed. A. H. Bullen.
604. Old Religion. Certainly not Roman Catholicism, though Jonson was a Catholic. Herrick uses the noun and its adjective rather curiously of the dead: cp. 82, “To the reverend shade of his religious Father,” and 138, “When thou shalt laugh at my religious dust”. There may be something of this use here, or we may refer to his ancient cult of Jonson. But the use of the phrase in 870 makes the exact shade of meaning difficult to fix.
605. Riches to be but burdens to the mind. Seneca De Provid. 6: Democritus divitias projecit, onus illas bonae mentis existimans.
607. Who covets more is evermore a slave. Hor. I. Ep. x. 41: Serviet aeternum qui parvo nesciet uti.
615. No Wrath of Men. Cp. Hor. Od. III. iii. 1-8.
616. To the Maids to walk abroad. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, under the title: Abroad with the Maids.
618. Mistress Elizabeth Lee, now Lady Tracy. Elizabeth, daughter of Thomas, first Lord Leigh of Stoneleigh, in Warwickshire, married John, third Viscount Tracy. She survived her husband two years, and died in 1688.
624. Poets. Wantons we are, etc. From Ovid, Trist. ii. 353-4:—
Crede mihi, mores distant a carmine nostri:
Vita verecunda est, Musa jocosa, mihi.
625. ’Tis cowardice to bite the buried. Cp. Ben Jonson, The Poetaster, I. 1: “Envy the living, not the dead, doth bite”; perhaps from Ovid, Am. I. xv. 39: Pascitur in vivis livor; post fata quiescit.
626. Noble Westmoreland. See Note to 112.
Gallant Newark. Robert Pierrepoint was created Viscount Newark in 1627 and Earl of Kingston in the following year. But Herrick is perhaps addressing his son, Henry Pierrepoint, afterwards Marquis of Dorchester (see 962 and Note), who during the first Earl of Kingston’s life would presumably have borne his second title.
633. Sweet words must nourish soft and gentle love. Ovid, Ars Am. ii. 152: Dulcibus est verbis mollis alendus amor.
639. Fates revolve no flax they’ve spun. Seneca, Herc. Fur. 1812: Duræ peragunt pensa sorores, Nec sua retro fila revolvunt.
642. Palms... gems. A Latinism. Cp. Ovid, Fasti, i. 152: Et nova de gravido palmite gemma tumet.
645. Upon Tears. Cp. S. Bernard: Pœnitentium lacrimæ vinum angelorum.
649. Upon Lucy. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, under the title, On Betty.
653. To th’ number five or nine. Probably Herrick is mistaking the references in Greek and Latin poets to the mixing of their wine and water (e.g., Hor. Od. III. xix. 11-17) for the drinking of so many cups.
654. Long-looked-for comes at last. Cp. G. Herbert, preface to Sibbes’ Funeral Sermon on Sir Thomas Crew (1638): “That ancient adage, ‘Quod differtur non aufertur’ for ‘Long-looked-for comes at last’”.
655. The morrow’s life too late is, etc. Mart. I. xvi. 12: Sera nimis vita est crastina: vive hodie.
662. O happy life, etc. From Virg. Georg. ii. 458-9:—
O fortunatos nimium sua si bona norint
Agricolas.
It is not uncharacteristic that these fervid praises of country life were left unfinished.
664. Arthur Bartly. Not yet identified.
665. Let her Lucrece all day be. From Martial XI. civ. 21, 22:—
Lucretia toto
Sis licet usque die: Laida nocte volo.
Neither will Famish me, nor overfill. Mart. I. lviii. 4: Nec volo quod cruciat, nec volo quod satiat.
667. Be’t for my Bridal or my Burial. Cp. Brand, vol. ii., and Coles’ Introduction to the Knowledge of Plants: “Rosemary and bayes are used by the commons both at funerals and weddings”.
672. Kings ought to be more lov’d than fear’d. Seneca, Octavia, 459: Decet timeri Cæsarem. At plus diligi.
673. To Mr. Denham, on his prospective poem. Sir John Denham published in 1642 his Cooper’s Hill, a poem on the view over the Thames towards London, from a hill near Windsor.
675. Their fashion is, but to say no, etc. Cp. Montaigne’s Essais, II. 3, p. 51; Florio’s tr. p. 207: “Let it suffice that in doing it they say no and take it”.
676. Love is maintained by wealth. Ovid, Rem. Am. 746: Divitiis alitur luxuriosus amor.
679. Nero commanded, but withdrew his eyes. Tacit. Agric. 45: Nero subtraxit oculos, jussitque scelera, non spectavit.
683. But a just measure both of Heat and Cold. This is a version of the medieval doctrine of the four humours. So Chaucer says of his Doctor of Physic:—
“He knew the cause of every maladye,
Were it of hoot or cold, or moyste, or drye,
And where engendered and of what humour”.
684. ’Gainst thou go’st a-mothering. The Epistle for Mid-Lent Sunday was from Galat. iv. 21, etc., and contained the words: “Jerusalem, quæ est Mater nostra”. On that Sunday people made offerings at their Mother Church. After the Reformation the natural mother was substituted for the spiritual, and the day was set apart for visiting relations. Excellent simnel cakes (Low Lat., siminellus, fine flour) are still made in the North, where the current derivation of the word is from Sim and Nell!
685. To the King. Probably written in 1645, when Charles was for a short time in the West.
689. Too much she gives to some, enough to none. Mart. XII. x.; Fortuna multis dat nimis, satis nulli.
696. Men mind no state in sickness. There is a general resemblance in this poem to the latter part of Hor. III. Od. i., but I have an uneasy sense that Herrick is translating.
697. Adversity. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650.
702. Mean things overcome mighty. Cp. 486 and Note.
706. How roses came red. Cp. Burton, Anat. Mel. III. ii. 3: “Constantine (Agricult. xi. 18) makes Cupid himself to be a great dancer: by the same token that he was capering among the gods, he flung down a bowl of nectar, which, distilling upon the white rose, ever since made it red”.
709. Tears and Laughter. Bishop Jebb quotes a Latin couplet inscribed on an old inn at Four Crosses, Staffordshire:—
Fleres si scires unum tua tempora mensem:
Rides, cum non sit forsitan una dies.
710. Tully says. Cic. Tusc. Disp. III. ii. 3: Gloria est frequens de aliquo, fama cum laude.
713. His return to London. Written at the same time as his Farewell to Dean Bourn, i.e., after his ejection in 1648, the year of the publication of the Hesperides.
715. No pack like poverty. Burton, Anat. Mel. iii. 3: Οὐδὲν πενίας βαρύτερόν ἐστι φόρτιον. “No burden, saith Menander, is so intolerable as poverty.”
718. As many laws, etc. Tacit. Ann. iii. 27: Corruptissima in republica plurimæ leges.
723. Lay down some silver pence. Cp. Bishop Corbet’s The Faeryes Farewell:—
“And though they sweep their hearths no less
Than maids were wont to do,
Yet who of late for cleanliness
Finds sixpence in her shoe?”
725. Times that are ill... Clouds will not ever, etc., two reminiscences of Horace, II. Od. x. 17, and ix.
727. Up tails all. This tune will be found in Chappell’s Popular Music of the Olden Time, vol. i. p. 196. He notes that it was a favourite with Herrick, who wrote four other poems in the metre, viz.: The Hag is Astride, The Maypole is up, The Peter-penny, and Twelfth Night: or, King and Queen. The tune is found in Queen Elizabeth’s Virginal Book, and in the Dancing Master (1650-1690). It is alluded to by Ben Jonson, and was a favourite with the Cavaliers.
730. Charon and Philomel. This dialogue is found with some slight variations of text in Rawlinson’s MS. poet. 65. fol. 32. The following variants may be noted: l. 5, voice for sound; l. 7, shade for bird; l. 11, warbling for watching; l. 12, hoist up for thus hoist; l. 13, be gone for return; l. 18, praise for pray; l. 19, sighs for vows; l. 24, omit slothful. The dialogue is succeeded in the MS. by an old catch (probably written before Herrick was born):—
“A boat! a boat! haste to the ferry!
For we go over to be merry,
To laugh and quaff, and drink old sherry”.
After the catch comes the following dialogue, written (it would seem) in imitation of Herrick’s Charon and Philomel: the speakers’ names are not marked:—
“Charon! O Charon! the wafter of all souls to bliss or bane!
Who calls the ferryman of Hell?
Come near and say who lives in bliss and who in pain.
Those that die well eternal bliss shall follow.
Those that die ill their own black deeds shall swallow.
Shall thy black barge those guilty spirits row
That kill themselves for love? Oh, no! oh, no!
My cordage cracks when such foul sins draw near,
No wind blows fair, nor I my boat can steer.
What spirits pass and in Elysium reign?
Those harmless souls that love and are beloved again.
That soul that lives in love and fain would die to win,
Shall he go free? Oh, no! it is too foul a sin.
He must not come aboard, I dare not row,
Storms of despair my boat will overblow.
But when thy mistress (?) shall close up thine eyes then come aboard,
Then come aboard and pass; till then be wise and sing.”
“Then come aboard” from the penultimate line and “and sing” from the last should clearly be struck out.
739. O Jupiter, etc. Eubulus in Athenaeus, xiii. 559: Ὠ Ζεῦ πολυτίμητ’, εἶτ’ ἐγὼ κακῶς ποτε | ἐρῶ γυναῖκας; νὴ Δί’ ἀπολοίμην ἄρα· | πάντων ἄριστον κτημάτων. Comp. 885.
743. Another upon her Weeping. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, under the title: On Julia’s Weeping.
745. To Sir John Berkeley, Governour of Exeter. Youngest son of Sir Maurice Berkeley, of Bruton, in Somersetshire; knighted in Berwick in 1638; commander-in-chief of all the Royalist forces in Devonshire, 1643; captured Exeter Sept. 4 of that year, and held it till April 13, 1646. Created Baron Berkeley of Stratton, in Cornwall, 1658; died 1678.
749. Consultation. As noted in the text, this is from Sallust, Cat. i.
751. None sees the fardell of his faults behind. Cp. Catullus, xxii. 20, 21:—
Suus cuique attributus est error,
Sed non videmus manticae quod in tergo est,
or, perhaps more probably from Seneca, de Irá, ii. 28: Aliena vitia in oculis habemus; à tergo nostra sunt.
755. The Eye. Æschyl. Fragm. in Plutarch, Amat. 21: Νέας γυναικὸς οὔ με μὴ λάθῃ φλέγων Ὀφθαλμὸς, ἥτις ἀνδρὸς ᾖ γεγευμένη.
756. To Prince Charles upon his coming to Exeter. In August, 1645.
761. The Wake. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, under the title: Alvar and Anthea.
763. To Doctor Alabaster. William Alabaster, or Alablaster, born at Hadleigh, Suffolk (1567); educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge; a friend of Spencer; was converted to Roman Catholicism while chaplain to the Earl of Essex in Spain, 1596. In 1607 he began his series of apocalyptic writings by an Apparatus in Revelationem Jesu Christi. On visiting Rome he was imprisoned by the Inquisition, escaped, and returned to Protestantism. Besides his theological works, he published (in 1637) a Lexicon Pentaglotton. Died April, 1640.
766. Time is the bound of things, etc. From Seneca, Consol. ad Marc. xix.: Excessit filius tuus terminos intra quos servitur... mors omnium dolorum solutio est et finis.
771. As I have read must be the first man up, etc. Hor. I. Ep. vi. 48: Hoc primus repetas opus, hoc postremus omittas.
Rich compost. Cp. the same thought in 662.
772. A Hymn to Bacchus. Printed, with the misprint Bacchus for Iacchus in l. 1, in Witts Recreations, 1650.
Brutus... Cato. Cp. Note to 4 and 8.
774. If wars go well, etc. Tacitus, Ann. iii. 53: cùm rectè factorum sibi quisque gratiam trahant, unius [Principis scil.] invidiâ ab omnibus peccatur.
775. Niggards of the meanest blood. Seneca, de Clem. i. 1: Summa parsimonia etiam vilissimi sanguinis.
776. Wrongs, if neglected, etc. Tacit. Ann. iv. 34: [Probra] spreta exolescunt, si irascare agnita videntur.
780. Kings ought to shear, etc. A saying of Tiberius quoted by Suetonius: Boni pastoris est tondere oves, non deglubere. Herrick probably took it from Ben Jonson’s Discoveries.
784-7. Ceremonies for Christmas. More will be found about the Yule-log in Ceremonies for Candlemas Day (893); cp. also The Wassail (476).
788. Power and Peace. From Tacitus, Ann. iv. 4: Quanquam arduum sit eodem loci potentiam et concordiam esse.
789. Mistress Margaret Falconbridge. A daughter, probably, of the Thomas Falconbridge of number 483.
797. Kisses. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, with omission of me in l. 1.
804. John Crofts, Cup-bearer to the King. Third son of Sir John Crofts, of Saxham, Suffolk. We hear of him in the king’s service as early as 1628, and two years later Lord Conway, in thanking Wm. Weld for some verses sent him, hopes “the lines are strong enough to bind Robert Maule and Jack Crofts from ever more using the phrase”. So Jack was probably a bit of a poet himself. He may be the Mr. Crofts for assaulting whom George, Lord Digby, was imprisoned a month and more, in 1634.
807. Man may want land to live in. Tacitus, Ann. xiii. 56: Addidit [Boiocalus] Deësse nobis terra in quâ vivamus, in quâ moriamur non potest, quoted by Montaigne, II. 3.
809. Who after his transgression doth repent. Seneca, Agam. 243: Quem poenitet peccasse paene est innocens.
810. Grief, if’t be great ’tis short. Seneca, quoted by Burton (II. iii. 1, § 1): “Si longa est, levis est; si gravis est, brevis est. If it be long, ’tis light; if grievous, it cannot last.”
817. The Amber Bead. Cp. Martial’s epigram quoted in Note to 497. The comparison to Cleopatra is from Mart. IV. xxxii.
818. To my dearest sister, M. Mercy Herrick. Not quite five years his senior. She married John Wingfield, of Brantham, Suffolk, to whom also Herrick addresses a poem.
820. Suffer that thou canst not shift. From Seneca; the title from Ep. cvii.: Optimum est pati quod emendare non possis, the epigram from De Provid. 4, as translated by Thomas Lodge, 1614, “Vertuous instructions are never delicate. Doth fortune beat and rend us? Let us suffer it”—whence Herrick reproduces the printer’s error, Vertuous for Vertues (Virtue’s).
821. For a stone has Heaven his tomb. Cp. Sir T. Browne, Relig. Med. § 40: “Nor doe I altogether follow that rodomontado of Lucan (Phars. vii. 819): Coelo tegitur qui non habet urnam,
He that unburied lies wants not his hearse,
For unto him a tomb’s the universe”.
823. To the King upon his taking of Leicester. May 31, 1645, a brief success before Naseby.
825. ’Twas Cæsar’s saying. Tiberius ap. Tacit. Ann. ii. 26: Se novies a divo Augusto in Germaniam missum plura consilio quam vi perfecisse.
830. His Loss. A reference to his ejection from Dean Prior.
837. Mistress Amy Potter. Daughter of Barnabas Potter, Bishop of Carlisle, Herrick’s predecessor at Dean Prior.
839. Love is a circle... from good to good. So Burton, III. i. 1, § 2: Circulus a bono in bonum.
844. to his book. Make haste away. Martial, III. ii. Ad Librum suum—Festina tibi vindicem parare, Ne nigram cito raptus in culinam Cordyllas madidâ tegas papyro, Vel thuris piperisque sis cucullus. To make loose gowns for mackerel. From Catullus, xcv. 1:—
At Volusi annales Paduam morientur ad ipsam,
Et laxas scombris saepe dabunt tunicas.
846. And what we blush to speak, etc. Ovid, Phaedra to Hipp. 10: Dicere quae puduit scribere jussit amor.
849. ’Tis sweet to think, etc. Seneca, Herc. Fur. 657-58: Quae fuit durum pati Meminisse dulce est.
851. To Mr. Henry Lawes, the excellent composer of his lyrics. Henry Lawes (1595-1662), the friend of Milton, admitted a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, 1625. In the Noble Numbers he is mentioned as the composer of Herrick’s Christmas Carol and the first of his two New-Year’s Gifts. Lawes also set to music Herrick’s Not to Love, To Mrs. Eliz. Wheeler (Among the Myrtles as I walked), The Kiss, The Primrose, To a Gentlewoman objecting to him his Grey Hairs, and doubtless others.
852. Maidens tell me I am old. From Anacreon:
Λέγουσιν αἱ γυναῖκες
Ἀνακρέων γέρων εἶ κ.τ.λ.
With a significant variation—“Ill it fits”—for μᾶλλον πρέπει.
859. Master J. Jincks. Not identified.
861. Kings seek their subjects’ good, tyrants their own. Aristot. Politics, iii. 7: καλεῖν εἰώθαμεν τῶν μὲν μοναρχιῶν τὴν πρὸς τὸ κοινὸν ἀποβλέπουσαν συμφέρον βασιλείαν... ἡ τυραννίς ἐστι μοναρχία πρὸς τὸ συμφέρον τὸ τοῦ μοναρχοῦντος.
869. Sir Thomas Heale. Probably a son of the Sir Thomas Hele, of Fleet, Co. Devon, who died in 1624. This Sir Thomas was created a baronet in 1627, and according to Dr. Grosart was one of the Royalist commanders at the siege of Plymouth. He died 1670.
872. Love is a kind of war. Ovid, Ars Am. II. 233, 34:—
Militiae species amor est: discedite segnes!
Non sunt haec timidis signa tuenda viris.
873. A spark neglected, etc. Ovid, Rem. Am. 732-34:—
E minimo maximus ignis erit.
Sic nisi vitaris quicquid renovabit amorem,
Flamma redardescet quae modo nulla fuit.
874. An Hymn to Cupid. From Anacreon:—
Ὠναξ, ᾧ δαμάλης Ἔρως
καὶ Νύμφαι κυανώπιδες
πορφυρέη τ’ Ἀφροδίτη
συμπαίζουσιν... γουνοῦμαί σε, κ.τ.λ.
885. Naught are all women. Burton, III. ii. 5. § 5.
907. Upon Mr. William Lawes, the rare musician. Elder brother of the more famous Henry Lawes; appointed a Gentleman of the Chapel Royal, 1602, and also one of Charles I.’s musicians-in-ordinary. When the Civil War broke out he joined the king’s army and was killed by a stray shot during the siege of Chester, 1645. He set Herrick’s Gather ye rosebuds to music.
914. Numbers ne’er tickle, etc. Martial, I. xxxvi.:—
Lex haec carminibus data est jocosis,
Ne possint, nisi pruriant, juvare.
918. M. Kellam. As yet unidentified. Dr. Grosart suggests that he may have been one of Herrick’s parishioners, and the name sounds as of the west country.
920. Cunctation in correction. Is Herrick translating? According to a relief at Rome the lictors’ rods were bound together not only by a red thong twisted from top to bottom, but by six straps as well.
922. Continual reaping makes a land wax old. Ovid, Ars Am. iii. 82: Continua messe senescit ager.
923. Revenge. Tacitus, Hist. iv. 3: Tanto proclivius est injuriae quàm beneficio vicem exsolvere; quia gratia oneri, ultio in quaestu habetur.
927. Praise they that will times past. Ovid, Ars Am. iii. 121:—
Prisca juvent alios: ego me nunc denique natum
Gratulor; haec aetas moribus apta meis.
928. Clothes are conspirators. I can suggest no better explanation of this oracular epigram than that the tailor’s bill is an enemy of a slender purse.
929. Cruelty. Seneca de Clem. i. 24: Ferina ista rabies est, sanguine gaudere et vulneribus; (i. 8), Quemadmodum praecisae arbores plurimis ramis repullulant [H. uses repullulate, -tion, 336, 794], et multa satorum genera, ut densiora surgant, reciduntur; ita regia crudelitas auget inimicorum numerum tollendo. Ben Jonson, Discoveries (Clementia): “The lopping of trees makes the boughs shoot out quicker; and the taking away of some kind of enemies increaseth the number”.
931. A fierce desire of hot and dry. Cp. note on 683.
932. To hear the worst, etc. Antisthenes ap. Diog. Laert. VI. i. 4, § 3: Ἀκούσας ποτὲ ὅτι Πλάτων αὐτὸν κακῶς λέγει Βασιλικὸν ἔφη καλῶς ποιοῦντα κακῶς ἀκούειν, quoted by Burton, II. iii. 7.
934. The Bondman. Cp. Exodus xxi. 5, 6: “And if the servant shall plainly say: I love my master, my wife, and my children: I will not go out free: Then his master shall bring him unto the judges; he shall also bring him to the door, or unto the doorpost; and his master shall bore his ear through with an awl, and he shall serve him for ever”.
936. My kiss outwent the bonds of shamefastness. Cp. Sidney’s Astrophel and Stella, sonnet 82. For not Jove himself, etc., cp. 10, and note.
938. His wish. From Martial, II. xc. 7-10:—
Sit mihi verna satur: sit non doctissima conjux:
Sit nox cum somno, sit sine lite dies, etc.
939. Upon Julia washing herself in the river. Imitated from Martial, IV. xxii.:—
Primos passa toros et adhuc placanda marito
Merserat in nitidos se Cleopatra lacus,
Dum fugit amplexus: sed prodidit unda latentem,
Lucebat, totis cum tegeretur aquis.
Condita sic puro numerantur lilia vitro,
Sic prohibet tenuis gemma latere rosas,
Insilui mersusque vadis luctantia carpsi
Basia: perspicuae plus vetuistis aquae.
940. Though frankincense, etc. Ovid, de Medic. Fac. 83, 84:—
Quamvis thura deos irataque numina placent,
Non tamen accensis omnia danda focis.
947. To his honoured and most ingenious friend, Mr. Charles Cotton. Dr. Grosart annotates: “The translator of Montaigne, and associate of Izaak Walton”; but as the younger Cotton was only eighteen when Hesperides was printed, it is perhaps more probable that the father is meant, though we may note that Herrick and the younger Cotton were joint-contributors in 1649 to the Lacrymæ Musarum, published in memory of Lord Hastings. For a tribute to the brilliant abilities of the elder Cotton, see Clarendon’s Life (i. 36; ed. 1827).
948. Women Useless. A variation on a theme as old as Euripides. Cp. Medea, 573-5:—
χρῆν γὰρ ἀλλοθέν ποθεν βροτοὺς
παῖδας τεκνοῦσθαι, θῆλυ δ’ οὐκ εἶναι γένος·
χοὒτως ἂν οὐκ ἦν οὐδὲν ἀνθρώποις κακόν.
952. Weep for the dead, for they have lost the light, cp. Ecclus. xxii. 11.
955. To M. Leonard Willan, his peculiar friend. A wretched poet; author of “The Phrygian Fabulist; or the Fables of Æsop” (1650), “Astraea; or True Love’s Mirror” (1651), etc.
956. Mr. John Hall, Student of Gray’s Inn. Hall remained at Cambridge till 1647, and this poem, which addresses him as a “Student of Gray’s Inn,” must therefore have been written almost while Hesperides was passing through the press. Hall’s Horæ Vacivæ, or Essays, published in 1646, had at once given him high rank among the wits.
958. To the most comely and proper M. Elizabeth Finch. No certain identification has been proposed.
961. To the King, upon his welcome to Hampton Court, set and sung. The allusion can only be to the king’s stay at Hampton Court in 1647. Good hope was then entertained of a peaceful settlement, and Herrick’s ode, enthusiastic as it is, expresses little more than this.
For an ascendent, etc.: This and the next seven lines are taken from phrases on pp. 29-33 of the Notes and Observations on some passages of Scripture, by John Gregory (see note on N. N. 178). According to Gregory, “The Ascendent of a City is that sign which riseth in the Heavens at the laying of the first stone”.
962. Henry, Marquis of Dorchester. Henry Pierrepoint, second Earl of Kingston, succeeded his father (Herrick’s Newark) July 30, 1643, and was created Marquis of Dorchester, March, 1645. “He was a very studious nobleman and very learned, particularly in law and physics.” (See Burke’s Extinct Peerages, iii. 435.)
When Cato, the severe, entered the circumspacious theatre. The allusion is to the visit of Cato to the games of Flora, given by Messius. When his presence in the theatre was known, the dancing-women were not allowed to perform in their accustomed lack of costume, whereupon the moralist obligingly retired, amidst applause.
966. M. Jo. Harmar, physician to the College of Westminster. John Harmar, born at Churchdown, near Gloucester, about 1594, was educated at Winchester and Magdalen College, Oxford; was a master at Magdalen School, the Free School at St. Albans, and at Westminster, and Professor of Greek at Oxford under the Commonwealth. He died 1670. Wood characterises him as a butt for the wits and a flatterer of great men, and notes that he was always called by the name of Doctor Harmar, though he took no higher degree than M.A. But in 1632 he supplicated for the degree of M.B., and Dr. Grosart’s note—“Herrick, no doubt, playfully transmuted ‘Doctor’ into ‘Physician’”—is misleading. He may have cared for the minds and bodies of the Westminster boys at one and the same time.
The Roman language.... If Jove would speak, etc. Cp. Ben Jonson’s Discoveries: “that testimony given by L. Aelius Stilo upon Plautus who affirmed, “Musas si latine loqui voluissent Plautino sermone fuisse loquuturas”. And Cicero [in Plutarch, § 24] “said of the Dialogues of Plato, that Jupiter, if it were his nature to use language, would speak like him”.
967. Upon his spaniel, Tracy. Cp. supra, 724.
971. Strength, etc. Tacitus, Ann. xiii. 19: Nihil rerum mortalium tam instabile ac fluxum est, quàm fama potentiae, non suâ vi nixa.
975. Case is a lawyer, etc. Martial, I. xcviii. Ad Naevolum Causidicum. Cùm clamant omnes, loqueris tu, Naevole, tantùm.... Ecce, tacent omnes; Naevole, dic aliquid.
977. To his sister-in-law, M. Susanna Herrick. Cp. supra, 522. The subject is again the making up of the book of the poet’s elect.
978. Upon the Lady Crew. Cp. Herrick’s Epithalamium for her marriage with Sir Clipsby Crew, 283. She died 1639, and was buried in Westminster Abbey.
979. On Tomasin Parsons. Daughter of the organist of Westminster Abbey: cp. 500 and Note.
983. To his kinsman, M. Thomas Herrick, who desired to be in his book. Cp. 106 and Note.
989. Care keeps the conquest. Perhaps jotted down with reference to the Governorship of Exeter by Sir John Berkeley: see Note to 745.
992. To the handsome Mistress Grace Potter. Probably sister to the Mistress Amy Potter celebrated in 837, where see Note.
995. We’ve more to bear our charge than way to go. Seneca, Ep. 77: quantulumcunque haberem, tamen plus superesset viatici quam viae, quoted by Montaigne, II. xxviii.
1000. The Gods, pillars, and men. Horace’s Mediocribus esse poetis Non homines, non di, non concessere columnae (Ars Poet. 373). Latin poets hung up their epigrams in public places.
1002. To the Lord Hopton on his fight in Cornwall. Sir Ralph Hopton won two brilliant victories for the Royalists, at Bradock Down and Stratton, January and May, 1643, and was created Baron Hopton in the following September. Originally a Parliamentarian, he was one of the king’s ablest and most loyal servants.
1008. Nothing’s so hard but search will find it out. Terence, Haut. IV. ii. 8: Nihil tam difficile est quin quaerendo investigari posset.
1009. Labour is held up by the hope of rest. Ps. Sallust, Epist. ad C. Caes.: Sapientes laborem spe otii sustentant.
1022. Posting to Printing. Mart. V. x. 11, 12:—
Vos, tamen, o nostri, ne festinate, libelli:
Si post fata venit gloria, non propero.
1023. No kingdoms got by rapine long endure. Seneca, Troad. 264: Violenta nemo imperia continuit dies.
1026. Saint Distaff’s Day. “Saint Distaff is perhaps only a coinage of our poet’s to designate the day when, the Christmas vacation being over, good housewives, with others, resumed their usual employment.” (Nott.) The phrase is explained in dictionaries and handbooks, but no other use of it is quoted than this. Herrick’s poem was pilfered by Henry Bold (a notorious plagiarist) in Wit a-sporting in a pleasant Grove of New Fancies, 1657.
1028. My beloved Westminster. As mentioned in the brief “Life” of Herrick prefixed to vol. i., all the references in this poem seem to refer to Herrick’s courtier-days, between leaving Cambridge and going to Devonshire. He then, doubtless, resided in Westminster for the sake of proximity to Whitehall. It has been suggested, however, that the reference is to Westminster School, but we have no evidence that Herrick was educated there.
Golden Cheapside. My friend, Mr. Herbert Horne, in his admirably-chosen selection from the Hesperides, suggests that the allusion here is to the great gilt cross at the end of Wood Street. The suggestion is ingenious; but as Cheapside was the goldsmiths’ quarter this would amply justify the epithet, which may indeed only refer to Cheapside as a money-winning street, as we might say Golden Lombard Street.
1032. Things are uncertain. Tiberius, in Tacitus, Annal. i. 72: Cuncta mortalium incerta; quantoque plus adeptus foret, tanto se magis in lubrico.
1034. Good wits get more fame by their punishment. Cp. Tacit. Ann. iv. 35, sub fin.: Punitis ingeniis gliscit auctoritas, etc., quoted by Bacon and Milton.
1035. Twelfth Night: or King and Queen. Herrick alludes to these “Twelfth-Tide Kings and Queens” in writing to Endymion Porter (662), and earlier still, in the “New-Year’s Gift to Sir Simeon Steward” (319) he speaks—
“Of Twelfth-Tide cakes, of Peas and Beans,
Wherewith ye make those merry scenes,
Whenas ye choose your King and Queen”.
Brand (i. 27) illustrates well from “Speeches to the Queen at Sudley” in Nichols’ Progresses of Queen Elizabeth.
“Melibœus. Cut the cake: who hath the bean shall be king, and where the pea is, she shall be queen.
Nisa. I have the pea and must be queen.
Mel. I the bean, and king. I must command.”
1045. Comfort in Calamity. An allusion to the ejection from their benefices which befel most of the loyal clergy at the same time as Herrick. It is perhaps worth noting that in the second volume of this edition, and in the last hundred poems printed in the first, wherever a date can be fixed it is always in the forties. Equally late poems occur, though much less frequently, among the first five hundred, but there the dated poems belong, for the most part, to the years 1623-1640. Now, in April 29, 1640, as stated in the brief “Life” prefixed to vol. i., there was entered at Stationers’ Hall, “The severall poems written by Master Robert Herrick,” a book which, as far as is known, never saw the light. It was probably, however, to this book that Herrick addressed the poem (405) beginning:—
“Have I not blest thee? Then go forth, nor fear
Or spice, or fish, or fire, or close-stools here”;
and we may fairly regard the first five hundred poems of Hesperides as representing the intended collection of 1640, with a few additions, and the last six hundred as for the most part later, and I must add, inferior work. This is borne out by the absence of any manuscript versions of poems in the second half of the book. Herrick’s verses would only be passed from hand to hand when he was living among the wits in London.
1046. Twilight. Ovid, Amores, I. v. 5, 6: Crepuscula... ubi nox abiit, nec tamen orta dies.
1048. Consent makes the cure. Seneca, Hippol. 250: Pars sanitatis velle sanari fuit.
1050. Causeless whipping. Ovid, Heroid. v. 7, 8: Leniter ex merito quicquid patiare, ferendum est; Quae venit indignae poena, dolenda venit. Quoted by Montaigne, III. xiii.
1052. His comfort. Terence, Adelph. I. i. 18: Ego... quod fortunatum isti putant, Uxorem nunquam habui.
1053. Sincerity. From Hor. Ep. I. ii. 54: Sincerum est nisi vas, quodcunque infundis acescit. Quoted by Montaigne, III. xiii.
1056. To his peculiar friend, M. Jo. Wicks. See 336 and Note. Written after Herrick’s ejection. We know that the poet’s uncle, Sir William Herrick, suffered greatly in estate during the Civil War, and it may have been the same with other friends and relatives. But there can be little doubt that the poet found abundant hospitality on his return to London.
1059. A good Death. August. de Disciplin. Christ. 13: Non potest malè mori, qui benè vixerit.
1061. On Fortune. Seneca, Medea, 176: Fortuna opes auferre non animum potest.
1062. To Sir George Parry, Doctor of the Civil Law. According to Dr. Grosart, Parry “was admitted to the College of Advocates, London, 3rd Nov., 1628; but almost nothing has been transmitted concerning him save that he married the daughter and heir of Sir Giles Sweet, Dean of Arches”. I can hardly doubt that he must be identified with the Dr. George Parry, Chancellor to the Bishop of Exeter, who in 1630 was accused of excommunicating persons for the sake of fees, but was highly praised in 1635 and soon after appointed a Judge Marshal. If so, his wife was a widow when she came to him, as she is spoken of in 1638 as “Lady Dorothy Smith, wife of Sir Nicholas Smith, deceased”. She brought him a rich dower, and her death greatly confused his affairs.
1067. Gentleness. Seneca, Phoen. 659: Qui vult amari, languidâ regnet manu. And Ben Jonson, Panegyre (1603): “He knew that those who would with love command, Must with a tender yet a steadfast hand, Sustain the reins”.
1068. Mrs. Eliza Wheeler. See 130 and Note.
1071. To the Honoured Master Endymion Porter. For Porter’s patronage of poetry see 117 and Note.
1080. The Mistress of all singular Manners, Mistress Portman. Dr. Grosart notes that a Mrs. Mary Portman was buried at Putney Parish Church, June 27, 1671, and this was perhaps Herrick’s schoolmistress, the “pearl of Putney”.
1087. Where pleasures rule a kingdom. Cicero, De Senect. xii. 41: Neque omnino in voluptatis regno virtutem posse consistere. He lives who lives to virtue. Comp. Sallust, Catil. 2, s. fin.
1088. Twice five-and-twenty (bate me but one year). As Herrick was born in 1591, this poem must have been written in 1640.
1089. To M. Laurence Swetnaham. Unless the various entries in the parish registers of St. Margaret’s, Westminster, refer to different men, this Lawrence Swetnaham was the third son of Thomas Swettenham of Swettenham in Cheshire, married in 1602 to Mary Birtles. Lawrence himself had children as early as 1629, and ten years later was church-warden. He was buried in the Abbey, 1673.
1091. My lamp to you I give. Allusion to the Λαμπαδηφορία which Plato (Legg. 776B) uses to illustrate the succession of generations. So Lucretius (ii. 77): Et quasi cursores vitaï lampada tradunt.
1092. Michael Oulsworth. Michael Oulsworth, Oldsworth or Oldisworth, graduated M.A. from Magdalen College, Oxford, in 1614. According to Wood, “he was afterwards Fellow of his College, Secretary to Earl of Pembroke, elected a burgess to serve in several Parliaments for Sarum and Old Sarum, and though in the Grand Rebellion he was no Colonel, yet he was Governor of Old Pembroke, and Montgomery led him by the nose as he pleased, to serve both their turns”. The partnership, however, was not eternal, for between 1648 and 1650 Oldisworth published at least eight virulent satires against his former master.
1094. Truth—her own simplicity. Seneca, Ep. 49: (Ut ille tragicus), Veritatis simplex oratio est.
1097. Kings must be dauntless. Seneca, Thyest. 388: Rex est qui metuit nihil.
1100. To his brother, Nicholas Herrick. Baptized April 22, 1589; a merchant trading to the Levant. He married Susanna Salter, to whom Herrick addresses two poems (522, 977).
1103. A King and no King. Seneca, Thyest. 214: Ubicunque tantùm honestè dominanti licet, Precario regnatur.
1118. Necessity makes dastards valiant men. Sallust, Catil. 58: Necessitudo... timidos fortes facit.
1119. Sauce for Sorrows. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650. An equal mind. Plautus, Rudens, II. iii. 71: Animus aequus optimum est aerumnae condimentum.
1126. The End of his Work. Printed in Witts Recreations, 1650, under the title: Of this Book. From Ovid, Ars Am. i. 773, 774:—
Pars superest caepti, pars est exhausta laboris:
Hic teneat nostras anchora jacta rates.
1127. My wearied bark, etc. Ovid, Rem. Am. 811, 812:—
fessae date serta carinæ:
Contigimus portum, quo mihi cursus erat.
1128. The work is done. Ovid, Ars Am. ii. 733, 734:—
Finis adest operi: palmam date, grata juventus,
Sertaque odoratae myrtea ferte comae.