The Hesperides & Noble Numbers Part 38

506. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EDWARD, EARL OF DORSET.

If I dare write to you, my lord, who are Of your own self a public theatre, And, sitting, see the wiles, ways, walks of wit, And give a righteous judgment upon it, What need I care, though some dislike me should, If Dorset say what Herrick writes is good?

We know y'are learn'd i' th' Muses, and no less In our state-sanctions, deep or bottomless.

Whose smile can make a poet, and your glance Dash all bad poems out of countenance; So that an author needs no other bays For coronation than your only praise, And no one mischief greater than your frown To null his numbers, and to blast his crown.

_Few live the life immortal. He ensures His fame's long life who strives to set up yours._

507. UPON HIMSELF.

Thou'rt hence removing (like a shepherd's tent), And walk thou must the way that others went: Fall thou must first, then rise to life with these, Mark'd in thy book for faithful witnesses.

508. HOPE WELL AND HAVE WELL: OR, FAIR AFTER FOUL WEATHER.

What though the heaven be lowering now, And look with a contracted brow?

We shall discover, by-and-by, A repurgation of the sky; And when those clouds away are driven, Then will appear a cheerful heaven.

509. UPON LOVE.

I held Love's head while it did ache; But so it chanc'd to be, The cruel pain did his forsake, And forthwith came to me.

Ay me! how shall my grief be still'd?

Or where else shall we find One like to me, who must be kill'd For being too-too kind?

510. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MRS. PENELOPE WHEELER.

Next is your lot, fair, to be number'd one, Here, in my book's canonisation: Late you come in; but you a saint shall be, In chief, in this poetic liturgy.

511. ANOTHER UPON HER.

First, for your shape, the curious cannot show Any one part that's dissonant in you: And 'gainst your chaste behaviour there's no plea, Since you are known to be Penelope.

Thus fair and clean you are, although there be _A mighty strife 'twixt form and chast.i.ty_.

_Form_, beauty.

513. CROSS AND PILE.

Fair and foul days trip cross and pile; the fair Far less in number than our foul days are.

_Trip cross and pile_, come haphazard, like the heads and tails of coins.

514. TO THE LADY CREW, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD.

Why, madam, will ye longer weep, Whenas your baby's lull'd asleep?

And (pretty child) feels now no more Those pains it lately felt before.

All now is silent; groans are fled: Your child lies still, yet is not dead; But rather like a flower hid here To spring again another year.

515. HIS WINDING-SHEET.

Come thou, who art the wine and wit Of all I've writ: The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest.

Thou art of what I did intend The all and end; And what was made, was made to meet Thee, thee, my sheet.

Come then, and be to my chaste side Both bed and bride.

We two, as reliques left, will have One rest, one grave.

And, hugging close, we will not fear l.u.s.t entering here, Where all desires are dead or cold As is the mould; And all affections are forgot, Or trouble not.

Here, here the slaves and pris'ners be From shackles free: And weeping widows long oppress'd Do here find rest.

The wronged client ends his laws Here, and his cause.

Here those long suits of chancery lie Quiet, or die: And all Star-Chamber bills do cease, Or hold their peace.

Here needs no Court for our Request, Where all are best, All wise, all equal, and all just Alike i' th' dust.

Nor need we here to fear the frown Of court or crown: _Where fortune bears no sway o'er things, There all are kings_.

In this securer place we'll keep, As lull'd asleep; Or for a little time we'll lie As robes laid by; To be another day re-worn, Turn'd, but not torn: Or, like old testaments engrost, Lock'd up, not lost.

And for a while lie here conceal'd, To be reveal'd Next at that great Platonick year, And then meet here.

_Platonick year_, the 36,000th year, in which all persons and things return to their original state.

516. TO MISTRESS MARY WILLAND.

One more by thee, love, and desert have sent, T' enspangle this expansive firmament.

O flame of beauty! come, appear, appear A virgin taper, ever shining here.

517. CHANGE GIVES CONTENT.

What now we like anon we disapprove: _The new successor drives away old love_.

519. ON HIMSELF.

Born I was to meet with age, And to walk life's pilgrimage.

Much I know of time is spent, Tell I can't what's resident.

Howsoever, cares, adieu!

I'll have nought to say to you: But I'll spend my coming hours Drinking wine and crown'd with flowers.

_Resident_, remaining.

520. FORTUNE FAVOURS.

Fortune did never favour one Fully, without exception; Though free she be, there's something yet Still wanting to her favourite.