The Hesperides & Noble Numbers Part 29

360. AN HYMN TO JUNO.

Stately G.o.ddess, do thou please, Who are chief at marriages, But to dress the bridal bed When my love and I shall wed; And a peac.o.c.k proud shall be Offered up by us to thee.

362. UPON SAPPHO SWEETLY PLAYING AND SWEETLY SINGING.

When thou dost play and sweetly sing-- Whether it be the voice or string Or both of them that do agree Thus to entrance and ravish me-- This, this I know, I'm oft struck mute, And die away upon thy lute.

364. CHOP-CHERRY.

Thou gav'st me leave to kiss, Thou gav'st me leave to woo; Thou mad'st me think, by this And that, thou lov'dst me too.

But I shall ne'er forget How, for to make thee merry, Thou mad'st me chop, but yet Another snapp'd the cherry.

_Chop-cherry_, another name of cherry-bob.

365. TO THE MOST LEARNED, WISE, AND ARCH-ANTIQUARY, M. JOHN SELDEN.

I, who have favour'd many, come to be Grac'd now, at last, or glorified by thee, Lo! I, the lyric prophet, who have set On many a head the delphic coronet, Come unto thee for laurel, having spent My wreaths on those who little gave or lent.

Give me the daphne, that the world may know it, Whom they neglected thou hast crown'd a poet.

A city here of heroes I have made Upon the rock whose firm foundation laid, Shall never shrink; where, making thine abode, Live thou a Selden, that's a demi-G.o.d.

_Daphne_, _i.e._, the laurel

366. UPON HIMSELF.

Thou shalt not all die; for, while love's fire shines Upon his altar, men shall read thy lines, And learn'd musicians shall, to honour Herrick's Fame and his name, both set and sing his lyrics.

367. UPON WRINKLES.

Wrinkles no more are or no less Than beauty turned to sourness.

370. PRAY AND PROSPER.

First offer incense, then thy field and meads Shall smile and smell the better by thy beads.

The spangling dew, dredg'd o'er the gra.s.s, shall be Turn'd all to mell and manna there for thee.

b.u.t.ter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil Shall run, as rivers, all throughout thy soil.

Would'st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould?

Pray once, twice pray, and turn thy ground to gold.

_Beads_, prayers.

_Mell_, honey.

_Sincere silver_, pure silver.

371. HIS LACHRYMae; OR, MIRTH TURNED TO MOURNING.

Call me no more, As heretofore, The music of a feast; Since now, alas!

The mirth that was In me is dead or ceas'd.

Before I went, To banishment, Into the loathed west, I could rehea.r.s.e A lyric verse, And speak it with the best.

But time, ay me!

Has laid, I see, My organ fast asleep, And turn'd my voice Into the noise Of those that sit and weep.

375. TO THE MOST FAIR AND LOVELY MISTRESS ANNE SOAME, NOW LADY ABDIE.

So smell those odours that do rise From out the wealthy spiceries; So smells the flower of blooming clove, Or roses smother'd in the stove; So smells the air of spiced wine, Or essences of jessamine; So smells the breath about the hives When well the work of honey thrives, And all the busy factors come Laden with wax and honey home; So smell those neat and woven bowers All over-arch'd with orange flowers, And almond blossoms that do mix To make rich these aromatics; So smell those bracelets and those bands Of amber chaf'd between the hands, When thus enkindled they transpire A n.o.ble perfume from the fire; The wine of cherries, and to these The cooling breath of respa.s.ses; The smell of morning's milk and cream, b.u.t.ter of cowslips mix'd with them; Of roasted warden or bak'd pear, These are not to be reckon'd here, Whenas the meanest part of her, Smells like the maiden pomander.

Thus sweet she smells, or what can be More lik'd by her or lov'd by me.

_Factors_, workers.

_Respa.s.ses_, raspberries.

_Pomander_, ball of scent.

376. UPON HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS ELIZABETH HERRICK.

Sweet virgin, that I do not set The pillars up of weeping jet Or mournful marble, let thy shade Not wrathful seem, or fright the maid Who hither at her wonted hours Shall come to strew thy earth with flowers.

No; know, bless'd maid, when there's not one Remainder left of bra.s.s or stone, Thy living epitaph shall be, Though lost in them, yet found in me; Dear, in thy bed of roses then, Till this world shall dissolve as men, Sleep while we hide thee from the light, Drawing thy curtains round: Good-night.

377. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON.

Till I shall come again let this suffice, I send my salt, my sacrifice To thee, thy lady, younglings, and as far As to thy Genius and thy Lar; To the worn threshold, porch, hall, parlour, kitchen, The fat-fed smoking temple, which in The wholesome savour of thy mighty chines Invites to supper him who dines, Where laden spits, warp'd with large ribs of beef, Not represent but give relief To the lank stranger and the sour swain, Where both may feed and come again; For no black-bearded vigil from thy door Beats with a b.u.t.ton'd-staff the poor; But from thy warm love-hatching gates each may Take friendly morsels and there stay To sun his thin-clad members if he likes, For thou no porter keep'st who strikes.

No comer to thy roof his guest-rite wants, Or staying there is scourg'd with taunts Of some rough groom, who, yirkt with corns, says: "Sir, Y'ave dipped too long i' th' vinegar; And with our broth, and bread, and bits, sir friend, Y'ave fared well: pray make an end; Two days y'ave larded here; a third, ye know, Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go You to some other chimney, and there take Essay of other giblets; make Merry at another's hearth--y'are here Welcome as thunder to our beer; Manners know distance, and a man unrude Would soon recoil and not intrude His stomach to a second meal". No, no!

Thy house well fed and taught can show No such crabb'd vizard: thou hast learnt thy train With heart and hand to entertain, And by the armsful, with a breast unhid, As the old race of mankind did, When either's heart and either's hand did strive To be the nearer relative.

Thou dost redeem those times, and what was lost Of ancient honesty may boast It keeps a growth in thee, and so will run A course in thy fame's pledge, thy son.

Thus, like a Roman tribune, thou thy gate Early sets ope to feast and late; Keeping no currish waiter to affright With blasting eye the appet.i.te, Which fain would waste upon thy cates, but that The trencher-creature marketh what Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by Some private pinch tells danger's nigh A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites Skin-deep into the pork, or lights Upon some part of kid, as if mistook, When checked by the butler's look.

No, no; thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund beer Is not reserved for Trebius here, But all who at thy table seated are Find equal freedom, equal fare; And thou, like to that hospitable G.o.d, Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode To eat thy bullock's thighs, thy veals, thy fat Wethers, and never grudged at.

The _pheasant_, _partridge_, _gotwit_, _reeve_, _ruff_, _rail_, The _c.o.c.k_, the _curlew_ and the _quail_, These and thy choicest viands do extend Their taste unto the lower end Of thy glad table: not a dish more known To thee than unto anyone.

But as thy meat so thy _immortal wine_ Makes the smirk face of each to shine And spring fresh rosebuds, while the salt, the wit, Flows from the wine and graces it; While reverence, waiting at the bashful board, Honours my lady and my lord.

No scurril jest; no open scene is laid Here for to make the face afraid; But temperate mirth dealt forth, and so discreet- ly that it makes the meat more sweet; And adds perfumes unto the wine, which thou Dost rather pour forth than allow By cruse and measure; thus devoting wine As the Canary Isles were thine; But with that wisdom and that method, as No one that's there his guilty gla.s.s Drinks of distemper, or has cause to cry Repentance to his liberty.

No, thou knowest order, ethics, and has read All economics, know'st to lead A house-dance neatly, and canst truly show How far a figure ought to go, Forward or backward, sideward, and what pace Can give, and what retract a grace; What gesture, courtship, comeliness agrees With those thy primitive decrees, To give subsistence to thy house, and proof What Genii support thy roof, Goodness and Greatness; not the oaken piles; _For these and marbles have their whiles To last, but not their ever_; virtue's hand It is which builds 'gainst fate to stand.

Such is thy house, whose firm foundation's trust Is more in thee than in her dust Or depth; these last may yield and yearly shrink When what is strongly built, no c.h.i.n.k Or yawning rupture can the same devour, But fix'd it stands, by her own power And well-laid bottom, on the iron and rock Which tries and counter-stands the shock And ram of time, and by vexation grows The stronger; _virtue dies when foes Are wanting to her exercise, but great And large she spreads by dust and sweat_.

Safe stand thy walls and thee, and so both will, Since neither's height was rais'd by th' ill Of others; since no stud, no stone, no piece Was rear'd up by the poor man's fleece; No widow's tenement was rack'd to gild Or fret thy ceiling or to build A sweating-closet to anoint the silk- soft skin, or bathe in a.s.ses' milk; No orphan's pittance left him serv'd to set The pillars up of lasting jet, For which their cries might beat against thine ears, Or in the damp jet read their tears.

No plank from hallowed altar does appeal To yond' Star-Chamber, or does seal A curse to thee or thine; but all things even Make for thy peace and pace to heaven.

Go on directly so, as just men may A thousand times more swear than say: This is that princely Pemberton who can Teach man to keep a G.o.d in man; And when wise poets shall search out to see Good men, they find them all in thee.

_Vigil_, watchman.

_b.u.t.ton'd-staff_, staff with a k.n.o.b at its end.

_Yirkt_, scourged.

_Redeem_, buy back.

_Suppling_, tender.