\^^4 THE WORKS OF GEORGE HERBERT, IN PROSE AND VERSE. EDITED BY THE REV. ROBERT ARIS WILLMOTT, INCUMBENT OF BEAR WOOD. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. NEW YORK: D. APPLETOK & CO., 346 & 448 BROADWAY, AND 16 IITTLE BRITAIN, LONDON. M DCCC UV. .:-. • I ^ • .*Ai. •V /* K ^^^ H . '.t'^" ^{THORAVvN WAPtti^CPON, -IXC. FEB 12 1903 ! Wasliingtoii,D.C, TO WILLIAM COOPER, RECTOR OF RIPPINGALE, LINCOLNSHIRE THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED BY HIS FRIEND, R. A. WILLMOTT. PREFACE. I AM not aware that any Edition of Heroert's Poetry, or Profe, has hitherto appeared with Notes, or Illuf- trations. The prefent attempt to fupply that want, may, therefore, be received with fome forbearance and favour. I fhould have rejoiced to track the poet's footfteps, into thofe ftill paths of theological learning, which he loved to frequent, and to have brought the torch of the Fathers to illuminate fome of his obfcurer allufions. — But the book was wanted, and time prefled. The early fpelling has been generally re- tained, as harmonifmg with the old-world found of the language, and the mellow colour of the thoughts. The Vandyck looks beft in its ancient frame. I will only add my obligation to that ftore-houfe of pleafant learning, " Notes and Queries," for one or two interefting commentaries on the Author j and 1*^ vi , Herbert's works. now commit him to the welcome of the reader, in the affectionate words of Crafhaw, to a friend, two hundred years ago.* Know you, Faire, on what you look j Divineft love lies in this book : Expefting fire from your eyes. To kindle this his Sacrifice. When your hands untie thefe firings, , Think youVe an Angel by the wings. One that gladly will be nigh. To wait upon each morning figh. To flutter in the balmy air Of your well-perfumed Prayer. Thefe white plumes of his he'll lend you, ^ Which every day to heaven will fend you : To take acquaintance of the fpnere. And all the fmooth-faced kindred there. And though Herbert's name do owe Thefe devotions, Fairefi: j know That while I lay them on the fhrine Of your white hand, they are mine. St. Catherine's, Bear Wood. Dec. 22, 1853. • Steps to the Temple, 1646. INTRODUCTION. When the vifltor to Cambridge enters the Ante- Chapel of Trinity College, he meets two objects of the deepeft intereft in Art and Science : the mar- vellous ftatue of Newton, and the fitting figure of Bacon. If he raife his eyes to the painted windows, a different train of thought is awakened. One group efpecially attracts and detains him. It is a fcene at Bethany in the houfe of that family whom Jefus loved ; among the company gathered around Him appears a face, familiar to moft ftudents of the fweet and ferious learning of the feventeenth century ; it is that of George Herbert, to whom, after fo many years, his own College has confecrated this memorial. The circumftances of his life are neither many, nor varied. He was born — one often children — April 3rd, 1593, in the Caftle of Montgomery in Wales. He came of a bold and noble race. There is at Penfhurft a portrait of his brother. Lord Edward, painted by Vm HERBERT S WORKS. Ifaac Oliver, which (hows a fwarthy countenance, with dark eyes and exceedingly black hair. The poet's father had the iame complexion ; he died in 1597, leaving George, in his fourth year, to the care of his mother. He remained, with two of his brothers, under a private tutor, until he was fent to Weftminfter School ; from whence, at the age of fifteen, he was ele(3:ed to Trinity College, Cambridge, where his name appears among the Scholars, May 5, 1609. " In Cambridge we may find our George Herbert's behaviour to be fuch, that we may conclude, he con- fecrated the firft fruits of his early age to virtue, and a ferious ftudy of learning." So writes good Ifaak Walton. Nor is there reafon to doubt the afFe6lionate panegyrift. Herbert's advance in academic rank was encouraging and rapid. Within two years after the taking of his Bachelor's degree, he was chofen a Fellow of the Society; and on the 21ft of October, 1 6 19, he obtained the diftinguifhed poft of Public Orator, vacated by Sir Francis Netherfole, who was then politically employed on the Continent. It was an office, according to Fuller, of more honour than profit, the original falary being only forty fhillings a year. It dates its beginning from the early part of the i6th century, before which period rhe- torical aid was procured as it was wanted, the fcribe being paid by the letter. In Herbert's time the annual income was about thirty pounds. But the attractions of the Oratorftiip did not lie on its pecuniary INTRODUCTION. IX Tide. It was a high road to court life. A former Orator, Sir Robert Naunton, had been made a Secre- tary of State, and Herbert cherifhed hopes of reaping a fimilar reward. Barnabas Oley had heard that he might have obtained the fituation, but " that, hke a genuine fon of Levi, he balked all fecular ways, faw neither father nor mother, child nor brother, faith nor friends, (fave in Chrift Jefus,) chofe the Lord for his fervice, and His fervice for employment." Walton gives a truer, though a lefs flattering ex- planation. *' In this time of Mr. Herbert's attendance and expectation of fome good occafion to remove from Cambridge to Court, God, in whom there is an unfeen chain of caufes, did, in a fhort time, put an end to the lives of two of his moft obliging and moft powerful friends, Lodowick, Duke of Richmond, and James, Marquis of Hamilton ; and not long after him. King James died alfo, and with them all Mr. Herbert's court hopes, fo that he betook himfelf to a retreat from London to a friend in Kent, where he lived Very pri- vately, and was fuch a lover of folitarinefs, he was judged to impair his health more than his ftudy had done." Some earneft of future favours his learned in- genuity had already acquired j for in 1623 he received from James a valuable " fmecure," which his prede- cefTor had formerly bellowed on Sir Philip Sidney. But a brighter day was dawning. He fought and found a more enduring Sovereign. The date of his Ordination has not been difcovered j but in the fummer 3f merbePvT's works, of 1626 (July 15), the haughty, though generous Bifliop Williams gave to him the Prebend of Leighton Ecclefia, in the diocefe of Lincoln. Oley informs us that " becaufc he lived far from and fo could not per- form the duties of that place, he would fain have rcfigned it to Mafler Ferrar, but Mafter F. wholly re- fufed, and diverted, or dire6led his charity to the re- edifying the ruined church of Leighton, where the corpfe of the Prebend lay.'* Leighton is a village in Huntingdonfhire, near Spald- wick, and the church ftands to the right of the road from Huntingdon to Thrapflon. A vifitor, in 185 1, has furnifhed fome interefting particulars.* The church is compofed of a weftern tower, with porches, tranfepts, and a chancel. Herbert, in his capacity ot Prebendary, became a proprietor in the Parifti, and probably applied the income which he derived from it to the reftoration of the edifice ; but the alterations are faid to have been lefs extenfive than the narrative of Walton implies. The old walls remain. The chief outlay was upon a new roof, and in repairing the parts of the church then occupied by the congregation. The feats are of oak, open, in the ftyle of the 17th century. The tower, the font, and fome windows in the chancel were contributed by Herbert. A gallery, erected for an organ in 1840, has flightly difarranged the fymmetry, and high pews have replaced the old benches in the chancel. The pulpit and reading defk, * Notes and Qjieries, iii. 178. INTRODUCTION. Xi t ftanding North and South, correipond in every par- ticular. The font is extremely fhallow, no texts of fcripture adorn the walls ; but traces were found of the poor man's box having been formerly fixed " to the back of the bench neareft to the fouth door." The tower is battlemented, and commands a pleafmg prof- pecl: over fifteen or fixteen villages. By the aid of a glafs, the magnificent pile of Ely Cathedral, nearly thirty miles off, may be difcerned. One ornamental fpout bears the date of 1632. Three crefts were noticed, but they could not be clearly deciphered. The family device of the Herberts did not appear; nor has the reftorer left behind him any record of his own munificence, or of the generous charity to which he ftirred up his relations and friends. In 1627, Her- bert loft his mother, after a long feafon of fuffering which his tendernefs did much to foften. " For myfelf, dear mother," he had written to her fome years earlier, " I always feared ficknefs more than d^ath, becaufe ficknefs hath made me unable to perform thofe offices for which I came into the world, and muft yet be kept in it ; but you are freed from that fear, who have al- ready abundantly difcharged that part, having both ordered your family and fo brought up your children, that they have attained to the years of difcretion and competent maintenance ; fo that now, if they do not well, the fault cannot be charged on you, whofe exam- pie and care of them will juftify you both to the world, and your own confcience ; infomuch, that whether you xu turn your thoughts on the life paft, or on the joys that are to come ; you have ftrong prefervations againft all difquiet." Soon after his mother's death his own weak health grew weaker, and a fharp ague drove him to feek eafe in the pleafant village of Woodford, in EiTex, where his brother Henry lived. There he abode about a year, becoming his own Phyfician, and curing his dif- order by abftinence from ' drink,' and all frefh meat. But, as in other cafes, the remedies were worfe than the difeafe ; figns of confumption beginning to (hew them- felves, a different climate was recommended j and he fought it at Dauntfey, in Wiltfhire, the houfe of Lord Danby, by whom he was afFedionately welcomed and entertained. In this choice air, as Aubrey calls it, by avoiding fevere ftudy, and partak- ing of cheerful exercife and fociety, his health returned. A new fcene was now to open before him. There lived at Bamton, in the fame county, a kinfman of Lord Danby, — Mr. Charles Danvers. He had nine daughters, of whom Jane was his favourite. To her he had often fpoken of Herbert, and promifed a double blefling upon the union that he hoped to fee. It happened that Mr. Danvers died before Herbert's vifit to Daunt- fey ; but as we learn from Walton, Jane " became fo much a Platonick as to fall in love with Mr. Herbert unfeen." The fmalleft fpark would light fuch a train. The only obftacle was the want of acquaintance. This was eafily removed. Some mutual friends procured a INTRODUCTION. xHl meeting ; and within three days of the firfl interview- Jane Danvers changed her name into Herbert. If Herbert, whofe memory was ftored with proverbs, called to mind the wife faw about ' marrying in hafte,' he never pointed the moral of it with his own experi- ence. He had more caufe for rejoicing, than repenting at leifure. Walton fweetly portrays the charm and blefTednefs of his wedded-life. '* The Eternal Lover of mankind made them happy in each other's mutual and equal affections and compliance ; indeed, fo happv that there never was any oppofition betwixt them, unlefs it were a conteft which fhould moft incline to a compliance with the other's defires." About three months after the marriage. Dr. Curie, being elevated to the See of Bath and Wells, religned the reiStory of Bemerton, which acccordingly paffed from the Patron, Lord Pembroke, to the King ; but when the Earl afked it for Herbert, his requeft met with a kind anfwer. The good news reached him at Bainton, where he was ftaying with his wife's relatives, and foon afterwards being joined by Mr. Arthur Woodnot, his old dear friend, he fet out for Wilton. The cure of fouls lay heavy upon his mind, and he was in doubt whether to accept, or decline it. Lord Pembroke, feeling unequal to combat his fcruples, adopted the wife refolution of laying them before Laud, then Bifhop of London. The refult fhould be told in the words of Walton. *' The Bifhop did the next day fo convince Mr. Herbert, That the refujal of it 2 XIV HERBERT S WORKS. was a ftn^ that a tailor was fent for to come fpeedily from Salilbury to Wilton, to take meafure, and make him canonical clothes againft next day ; which the failor did. And Mr. Herbert, being fo habited, went with his prefentation to the learned Dr. Davenant, who was then Biftiop of Salifbury, and he gave him inftitution immediately ; and he was alfo the fame day, (which was April 26th, 1630), inducted into the good and more pleafant than healthful Parfonage of Bemer- ton." An interefting ftory is related of the ceremony. Being left in the church to toll the bell, as the law required him to do, he wearied the patience of his friends at the door, and one of them, looking in at the w^indow, faw the new re6lor lying before the Altar. They afterwards knew the caufe of the delay, when they heard that he had been fetting rules for the government of his paftoral life, and making a vow to keep them. His parifh gave him ample occupation. The church needed repairs, and the parfonage had fallen into decay, his predeceffor having refided in a diftant village. The larger portion of the houfe he rebuilt at his own expenfe, recommending bis fucceflbr to cultivate liberal and grateful feelings in an infcription fet over the chimney in the hall, where it is no longer to be foimd. The RecStory is only feparated from the church by the width of the road, a diftance now of thirty-four, and in Herbert's time of forty feet. A grafs-plot flopes down to the river, commanding a fine view of INTRODUCTION. XV Salifbury CathedraL A pleafing anecdote is told in connection with this garden. Norris became the re6lor of Bemerton nearly fixty years after the death of Herbert. He was there upon one occafion vifited by Mr. Colborne, the early friend of the poet Young. The fpire rifing above the trees drew from him an exclamation of furprife : — " What a magnificent ftruc- ture ! You are happy, Sir, in this delightful profpe6t." " Yes," anfwered Norris, with melancholy humour, " It is all the profpe6l I have with refpeCt to that Cathedral." A medlar, which tradition fays was planted by the poet, ftill flourifhes in the garden. If Herbert's life had been prolonged, we may con- clude that the church would have been reftored with fome regard to the beauty of holinefs. It was always a very humble building, and is only forty-five feet long by eighteen in width.* The fouth and weft windows, of the ftyle called Decorated, are affigned to the beginning of the fourteenth century. The eaft window is modern, and the old fittings have been removed. The decorated windows, font, and bell are probably the only remaining obje6i:s that met the eye of Herbert. His paftoral labours were crowded into the fpacc of two years and a few months. Every reader remembers the defcription of his daily prayer, and how " fome of the meaner fort of his parifti did fo love and reverence Mr. Herbert, that they would let their plough reft when * Notes and Queries, ii. 4.60. XVI his faint's bell rung to prayer, that they might alfo offer their devotion to God with him, and would then return back to their plough," thinking themfelves the happier for the blefling they carried away. Circumftances, altogether independent of his own character and piety, helped to quicken the devotional reverence of the people. The population of the Parifh, embracing the villages of Bemerton, Fugglefton, and Ouidhampton, does not exceed fix hundred perfons. Bemerton contains about one hundred and fifty.* In Herbert's time the number was confiderably fmaller. Perhaps twenty cottages fheltered his flock, for a curate watched over the remoter diftridls. Paftoral fuperintendence would thus be eafy and efFedive. A mce important key to his influence is to be found in his rank. He was the kinfman of the Pembrokes, whofe fplendid manfion ftands within a walk of the Parfonage. In that day, a man of family was fuppofed to honour the Church by entering it. Barnabas Oley drew out a catalogue of dignified perfons who had received Orders, and he even remembered, with evident fatiffacStion, to have read that Henry VIII. was defigned by his father for the Arch- bifhopric of Canterbury, if his brother Arthur had lived to fucceed to the Crown. If we read Jeremy Collier's EfTays on Pride and the Office of a Chaplain, we are ftruck by the phenomenon of a learned man fitting down to prove, with the help of logic, that " a Priell, * As I am obligingly informed by the prefent re£lor, the Rev* W. R. Pigott. INTRODUCTION. XVlI or a Chaplain in a family, is not a fervant."* Oley had no hefitation in affirming that the fpiritual advan- tages of a nobleman, or a gentleman, over a Clerk of lower parentage, are very confiderable ; the truth taught being fooner believed, the reproof bellowed better received, and the example fhewn makincr a deeper impreflion. At a later period it was fuppofed that a Prieft and a gentleman were diftin(5l characters, and that courtefy had no relationfhip to learning. Thus we find Sir William Temple fpeaking of an Englifh and a French book, as " one writ by a diviney the other by a gentleman ^^ and Lord Shaftefbury re- marking, that " a faint-author leaft values politenefs," and fcorns to reform his temper by the ftandard of good company, or the rule of manners. Herbert's acceptance of a Benefice was efleemed a condefcenfion by his contemporaries — ".He was none of the nobles of Tekoa, who at the building of Jeru- falem put not their necks to the work of the Lordy* was the commentary of Fuller. His perfonal gifts added a luftre to his inherited. He would gain a grace from every comparifon with his rural brethren, of whom we catch a glimpfe in the remark of Walton, that if Her- bert " were at any time too zealous in his fermons, it was either in reproving the ill behaviour of congrega- tions, or of thofe minifters that huddled up the church prayers without a vifible reverence and affection — namely, ywrZ' as feemed to fay /^^ Lord's Prayer or colle£f * Eflkys, Third Edition, 1698. 2* XVm HERBERT S WORKS. in a breathy How he laboured in this happy corner of the Lord's field, hoping all things, and bleffing all people, afking his own way to Sion, and fliowing it to others, — we read in the artlefs page of Walton. But not long was he to fing his fong in a ftrange land. While any portion of ftrength remained, he continued to read prayers twice every day, as his cuftom had been, and when he felt himfelf no longer equal to that labour of love, he refigned it to his Curate. About a month before his death, Mr. Duncon, fubfequently Redtor of Fryer Barnet, Middlefex, came to vifit him, and fpeak- ing to Walton of the interview, after an interval of nearly forty years, he declared that the pious difcourfe, and the meek demeanour of Herbert were ftill frefh in his memory. Mr. Duncon*s place was fupplied by an older and dearer friend, Mr. Woodnot, who never left the fick man until He who gives His beloved fleep had taken him. The fetting of the fun was as calm as its {hining had been, only of a richer hue. The wife of Herbert, his three nieces, and Mr. Woodnot flood befide him, while in his own words " He paiTed a confli6l with his laft enemy, and overcame him by the merits of his mafter, Jefus." His laft words were, " Lord, forfake me not now my ftrength faileth me ; but grant me mercy for the merits of my Jefus. And now, Lord, Lord, now receive my foul." And fo his Father in heaven took His child to his own home. The following entry in the Regifter of Bemerton is the lateft record pf one of God's moft devoted chil- INTRODUCTION. XIX dren: — "Mr. George Herbert, Esq., Parfon of St. Foughlefton and Bemerton, was buried 3 day of March, 1632." Few faces are better known than Herbert's, with its auftere fweetnefs, and the evident marks of inward decline. In perfon he is defcribed, by Walton, as tall, and unufually thin, but cheerful in look, and always attrafting friends and ftrangers by the elegance and the benignity of his manner and addrefs. He ftands amid a group of Englifh worthies remarkable for their perfonal and hiftoric intereft. The eloquent Donne was one of his deareft friends ; he knew the accom- pliftiments of Wotton, and the learned cafuiftry of Sanderfon j the firft portion of Hooker's wonderful treatife appeared while he was in his cradle ; and his childifli fancy was enriched by the Eflays of Bacon. With Ben Jonfon, who furvived him about five years, he was likely to be acquainted. Shakfpere he had pro- bably (een in fome feftive interval of Cambridge life ; for that illuftrious poet did not retire from London be- fore 16 II, when Herbert was eighteen years old. In this fplendid company of theologians, philofophers, and poets, he wore an expreflion and a coftume of his own. If his Court views had been realifed, we might have expected to have feen blended in him Sidney's chivalry, and the picturefque foppery of Raleigh. He was only feven years younger than the hero of Zutphen, to whom in temperament he feems to have fliown a remarkable refemblance. b 2 XX ^ HERBERT S WORKS. We are to confider Herbert as a Poet, a Paftor, and a writer of Profe. His poetical reputation was wider and greater than Milton's. Within a few years twenty thoufand copies of the ' Temple* were fold. Cowley alone outwent him in popularity ; one being the laureate of religious, as the other was of fafhionable life. The hiftory of his poems is moft touching and beautiful. In his laft ficknefs, he pre- fented them to a friend in thefe words : " Sir, I pray deliver this little Book to my dear brother Ferrar, and tell him, he fhall find in it a picture of the many fpirit- ual conflicts that have pafled betwixt God and my foul, before I could subject mine to the will of Jesus MY MASTER J in whofe fervice I have now found per- fect freedom j defire him to read it ; and then, if he can think it may turn to the advantage of any poor dejected foul, let it be made public ; if not, let him burn it, for I and it are lefs than the leaft of God's mercies." The publication of the Temple produced an imme- diate impreflion. Henry Vaughan, whofe rough lines abound in touches of a quaint and fuggeftive fancy, obferves, in reference to the impure verfes of the day : *' The firft, that with any effe6lual fuccefs, attempted a diverfion of this foul and overflowing ftream, was the blefTed man, Mr. George Herbert, whofe holy life and verfe gained many pious converts ; of whom I am the leaft, and gave the firft check to a moft flourifhing and admired Wit of his time."* * Preface to Silex Scintilians, p. 58. INTRODUCTION. XXI Herbert belongs to that third Italian fchool, which was to occupy a chapter in Gray's hiftory of poetry, as he communicated the plan to Warton. It was a school, in his opinion, full of conceit, beginning in the reign of Elizabeth ; continued under James and Charles the Firft, by Donne, Crafhaw, and Cleveland ; carried to its height by Cowley, and ending with Sprat. Herbert was certainly a difciple. Complicated metaphors abound. The poems of that age recall the mechanical contrivances of the eccentric Mr. Win- ftanley, the firft architect of the Eddyftone Light- houfe. In his ftrange abode nothing was what it feemed to be. An old flipper upon the floor ftarted into a fpe6tral figure ; a vifitor refting in a chair, was fuddenly embraced by two mufcular arms j or fauntering into a fummer-houfe, ftraightway found himfelf floating away into the middle of a Canal. The poetical furprifes of Herbert are fometimes equally unexpected, and it muft be confeflTed, not lefs inge- nious. The reader's eye is perpetually ftruck with a a tranfformation, or a grotefque invention. Even the friendly tafte of Mr. Keble* was offended by the conftant flutter of his fancy, for ever hovering round and round the theme. But this was a peculiarity which the moft gifted writers admired. Dryden openly avowed that nothing appeared more beautiful to him than the imagery in Cowley, which fome readers con- demned. It muft, at leaft, be faid in praife of this * Prasle611ones Academicae, xx. 12. Xxii HERBERT*S WORKS. creative playfulnefs, that it is a quality of the intellect fingularly fprightly and buoyant ; it ranges over a boundlefs landfcape, pierces into every corner, and, by the light of its own fire — to adopt a phrafe of Temple — difcovers a thoufand little bodies, or images in the world, unfeen by common eyes, and only manifefted by the rays of that poetic fun. There is in Herbert another fort of quaintnefs, which is neither the fruit of his age, nor of his own under- ftanding, but of the authors whom he ftudied. " He that reads Mr. Herbert's poems attendingly, fhall find the excellence of Scripture Divinity, and choice paf- fages of the Fathers bound up in metre." If James Montgomery* had confidered this remark of Barnabas Oley, he would have hefitated to see " devotion itfelf turned into tnafquerade " by the poet. Herbert did not forget to confult, for his outpourings of heart-praife and love, that commonplace book of Greek and Latin theology which the Country Parfon is recommended to collect and ponder. Many of his curiofities of fancy have a Patriftic, rather than a poetic anceftry, and are to be fought in Chryfoftom or Cyprian, inftead of in Donne, or Marini. Every true work of art, whether it be of the pencil, the chifel, or the pen, addrefles itfelf to particular fympathies. Of courfe, there will be a certain out- ward excellence which the univerfal tafte cannot fail to underftand and admire. I fpeak of the inner and • Chriftian Poet, p. 258. INTRODUCTION. Xxiil the hidden charm. The beauty of RafFaelle's Madonna reveals itfelf very differently to the critic and the v^or- fhipper. Milton may be admired by the commoji reader, for his grandeur of fentiment ; but it is only through the fpe6lacles of books that the fplendour and the lovelinefs of his vifions are clearly difcerned. Now, Herbert has, according to his degree, the diftindiive peculiarities of RafFaelle and Milton. His fweetnefs of fancy, his vigorous fenfe, and his happinefs of idiom may be appreciated by all people ; juft as the grace and the dignity of the picture and the epic come home to the leaft refined obferver. But there is a remoter and a delightfuller quality, that requires a kindred heart to comprehend it. Herbert is pre-eminently a poet of the Church ; his fimiles are drawn from her ceremonial ; his moft foiemn thoughts are born of her myfteries ; his tendereft leflbns are taught by her prayers. To a reader without a deep Cathohc devotion, he is only the ingenious or the fantaftic rhymer ; to one who has that feeling, his verfes are the firings of a mufical inflru- ment, making melody in themfelves, and awaking fv/eet founds in the hearts of thofe who hear it. There is a paflage in one of Southey's letters that feems very forcibly to illuflrate this view.* Speaking of Wordfworth, he afks, " Does he not afTociate more feeling with particular phrafes, and you alfo with him, than thofe phrafes convey to any one elfe ? This I * Life by his Son, ii. 191. xxiv Herbert's works. fufpecSt. Who would part with a ring of a dead friend's hair ? And yet a jeweller will give for it only the value of the gold." This is juft the cafe with Herbert. Ris verfes are not to be tofled into the fcale, and weighed. There is the hair of the dead Friend in the gold. The Gofpel confecrates every rhyme. The Liturgy is reflected in nearly every devout fentiment. The poem on " Sin " is almoft a Colle6t in its majeftic harmony, and fimplenefs of language. The " Sacri- fice" has quite a Scriptural folemnity of grouping and reprefentation. A remarkable charm of Herbert's poetry is feen in what may be named — the proverbial philofophy of common fenfe. All the famous writers of that, and the former century, abounded in it ; whether we take up the Apologies and Defences of Jewell ; the Effays of Bacon ; or the exhortations of Taylor. The quan- tity of plain, pra6tical wifdom for every-day life, treasured up in the verfes of Herbert, has fcarcely been confidered. The Church Porch is a little hand-book of rules for the management of temper, and converfation, and bufinefs. Every child ought to get it by heart. It recalls the comparifon by which Plato chara6lerifed Socrates. The outfide of the vafe is fcrawled over with odd fhapes and writing, but within are precious liquors, and healing medicines, and rare mixtures of far- gathered herbs and flowers. In connection with this moralifmg difpofition may be mentioned a certain familiar humour, fuddenly (hooting gleams acrofs a INTRODUCTION. XXV ferious paflage, and very flrongly reminding us of the pleafantry of Cowper. In the following pages the reader will be ftruck by a playfulnefs, that looks like a thoughtful fmile from Wefton. The mafculine fenfe of Herbert has drawn eyes that were fkilful enough to avoid his faults. " From the dregs of Crafhaw, of Carew, of Herbert,* and others (for it is well known he was a great reader of all thofe poets), Pope has judicioufly collected gold." So writes Dr.Warton.* From Crafhaw Pope might gather fo me fuel to feed that devotional flame which burns fo vehe- mently in his Eloifa ; but in Herbert he obtained, what he knew better than any of his contemporaries how to ufe, an ample flore of practical wifdom terfely uttered. His difcoveries were not confined to loofe gold in the f ubbifh ; he found pieces of it worked up into an elegance of form, which he himfelf could not improve. Many lines in the Temple have the polifh and the glitter of the Moral Eflays ; and not feldom the ftruc- ture of his own couplet, and the identical paufe of the caefura are anticipated. The charaderiftic of Herbert's fancy is fruitfulnefs. The poetry, like the theology of that age, put all learn- ing into an abridgment. A courfe of lectures flowed into the rich eflTence of a fmgle fermon. A month's feed bloomed in an ode. The 17 th was the contra- diction of the 19th century, the object being then to • Eflay onPope, i. 85. 3 XXVI Herbert's works. give the moft thought in the fmalleft fpace, as now to fow the wideft field with the frugalleft corn. Herbert's " Pilgrimage " is an example. Written, probably, before Bunyan was born, — certainly while he was an infant, — it contains all the Progrefs of the Pilgrim in outline. We are fhewn the gloomy Cave of Defpera- tion, the Rdck of Pride, the Mead of Fancy, the Copfe of Care, the Wild Heath where the Traveller is robbed of his gold, and the gladfome Hill that promifes a fair profpecSl, but only yields a lake of brackifh water on the top. Such a compofition would fcarcely efcape the notice of that Spenfer of the people, who afterwards gave breadth and animation, and figures to the fcene. The language of Herbert cannot be too highly praifed — however diftant the thought may be, the ex- preffion of it is, with very few exceptions, pure, racy, and idiomatic. He had evidently been a living and a conflant hearer, or reader of Shakefpere, whofe Plays appeared in his childhood, and were, doubtlefs, the delight of his eyes during the fhort fummer-day of his courtly hopes, and the frequent fubje6l of talk at Wil- ton. Many pafTages might be quoted ; but the Shakef^ perian tone will be recognized in the following : — How neatly do we give one only name To parent's iffue, and the Sun's bright ftar ! A fon is light and fruit j a fruitful flame Chafing the father's dimnefs. And ftill more diflinftly in the next, — INTRODUCTION. XXVII My comforts drop and melt away like fnow j I (hake my head, and all the thoughts and ends Which my fierce youth did bandy, fall and flow Like leaves about me, or like fummer friends, Flies of eftate and funfhine. The beautiful phrafe — " Summer Friends" — was in- troduced by Gray into his Hymn on Adverfity. Once more : — Art thou a magiftrate ? then be fevere : If ftudious, copy fair what time hath blurred. Redeem Truth from his jaws ; if foldier, Chafe brave employments with a naked fword Throughout the world. Pages might eafily be filled with inftances of feli- citous words and phrafes. In the Poem on Providence we have the " leaning " elephant, afterwards exhibited by Thomfon in his magnificent landfcape : — Peaceful, beneath primeval trees that caft Their ample fhade o'er Niger's yellow ftream. And where the Ganges rolls his facred wave, High-raifed in folemn theatre around. Leans the huge elephant. Summer, 721. Herbert's verfification is frequently afFe6ted by his manner of thinking. The comprefiion of thought caufes harfhnefs. Sometimes the rhythm drags with a xxviii Herbert's works. flow, jolting, uneven ftep, making the reader to re- member Walpole's criticifm of an Ode, amended by Mafon, which, he told him, had a fudden fmk, like a man with one leg fhorter than the other. But not feldom the harmony is foft and flowing, and lovely fancies are chanted to their own mufic. The " Flower," " Virtue," and " Gratefulnefs," are exquifite fpecimens of this clafs. The poetry and the profe of Herbert differ as much as Cowley's. He has not, indeed, left any compofltion to be compared with the delightful Eflays ; but he pof- feflTed a large fhare of the fame frefhnefs, gaiety, and eafe. If we had the manufcripts that perifhed in the flames of Highnam Houfe, we might propofe a nearer parallel. But Fuller juftly pronounced even his re- mains to be fhavings of gold. The Country Parfon is deftined to live. Among the few Englifh writings of a pra6i:ical clafs, between 1600 and 1650, and yet retaining a reputation, Mr, Hallam* places this treatife of Herbert j which he judges to be " on the whole, a pleafmg little book," but, "with the precepts fome- times fo overftrained, as to give an air of affe6lation." This is faint praife ; and the cenfure is refuted by the Work itfelf. The author informs us, that he wrote it with a view to his own fpiritual improvement, draw- ing the form and charadter of a true Pafl:or, that he might have a mark to aim at ; and fetting it as high a^. * Literature of Europe, iii. 129. INTRODUCTION. XXIX he could, fince " he fhoots higher that threatens the moon, than he that aims at a tree." Herbert muft be confidered to have fulfilled his defign. The epidemics of one age require a different treatment from thofe of another. The cure of the paft fails in the prefent. The popular difeafe, in the former half of the I7th century, was the degraded con- dition of the country Clergy. It had almoft become chronic. There could be no inftru(5tion where there was no refpe£t. Such fliepherds neither guided nor fed their flocks. Herbert's object was two-fold ; to raife the teacher and to win the people j the former lefTon he Ihewed by precept, the fecond by example. He painted the portrait of the Good Parfon, and was himfelf the original. His views df the paftoral office, even in the rudeft country hamlet, were lofty and glowing J and he recommended the ftudy of Plato for the fake of acquiring the dexterity of Socrates, and applying it to the common intercourfe and teaching of a Parifh. He was a burning and a fhining light in his own time, and he ftill fheds a foftened luftre over ours. Such men ennoble their brethren, by their beautiful union of all that is pradlical, with whatever is graceful in life. In them nothing is harfh or repul- five. The auftere raiment is bound with a fair girdle. Sanderfon fmgs pfalms to his own mufic ; Ken warbles hymns before he fleeps j Herbert delights to fet an- thems to his lute ; and Wotton bequeaths his viol to a friend. 3* XXX HERBERT S WORKS. O could we copy their mild virtues, then What joy to live, what bleflednefs to die ! Methinks their ver}- names (hine ftill and bright j Apart — like glow-worms on a fummer night ; Or lonely tapers, when from far they fling A guiding-ray ; or feem, like ftars on high. Satellites burning in a lucid ring.* • Wordsworth, iv. loz. CONTENTS. Page Page Dedication . iii. The Holy Communion 45 Preface. V. Antiphon • 47 Life of Herbert . vii. Love (i) • 47 The Church — Love (2) . 4-8 The Dedication I The Temper . 49 The Church Porch (Per- The Temper • 50 rihanterrum) I Jordan • 51 The Church (Superliml- Employment 51 nare) . 17 The Holy Sepulchre (i) 52 The Altar . 18 The Holy Sepulchre (2) 53 The Sacrifice . 18 Whit Sunday . 54 The Thank-fglving . 28 Grace 55 The Reprifall • 29 Praife 56 The Agonie . 30 Affliaion 57 The Sinner . 31 Mattens 57 Good Friday . 31 Sinne 58 Redemption . 32 Even Song 59 Sepulchre . 33 Church Monuments 60 Eafter • 3+ Church Mufick 61 Eafter Wings . 36 Church-lock and Key 61 Holy Baptifme . 36 The Church Floore 62 Holy Baptifme • 37 The Windows 63 Nature . 38 Trinity Sunday 63 Sinne . 38 Content 64 Affliaion . . 39 The Quidditie 65 Repentance . 4z Humilitie 66 Faith . 43 Frailtie . . • 67 Prayer. • . 4.S Conftanrie 68 XXXll (All CONTENTS. Page Page Affliaion 70 Sion . . . 107 The Starre 71 Home . . 108 Sunday 72 The Britifh Church . Ill Ava.ice 7+ The Q^ip . . 112 Anagram 75 Vanitie . 113 To all Angels and Saints 75 The Dawning . 11+ Employment 1^^ Jelu . . 114 Deniall 78 BufmelTe . . 115 Chriftmas 79 Dialogue . 116 Ungratefulnefle . 80 Dulnefle . 118 Sighs and Grones 81 Love-joy • 119 The World . 8z Providence . 119 ColofT.iii. 3. (Our life is hid Hope . 125 with Chrift in God) 83 Sinnes Round 125 Vanitie 83 Time . 126 Lent 84 Gratefulneffe 127 Vertue 86 Peace 128 The Pearl (Matt, xiii.) 87 Confeffion . 130 Affliaion 89 Giddinefle . 131 Man 90 The Bunch of Grapes . 132 Antiphon 92 Love-unknown 133 UnkindnefTe • 93 Man's- Medley 136 Life 94 The Storm . 137 Submiflion 94 Paradile 138 Juftice 95 The Method 138 Charms and Knots 96 Divinitie 139 Affliaion . 97 Ephei". iv. 30 (" Grieve Mortification 98 not the Holy Spirit"] 141 Decay 99 The Familie . 142 Miferie 100 The Size • 143 Jordan 103 Artillerie . . »45 Prayer 104 Church-rents & Schifme J 146 Obedience . 105 Juftice . 147 Confcience , 106 The Pilgrimage . 148 CONTEKTS. xxxiii Page Page The Holdfaft . 150 The Odour (2 Cor. ii.^ ) 185 Complaining . ISO The Foil . . 186 The Difcharge • 151 The Forerunners . 187 Praiie . 153 The Rofe . 188 An Offering • 154- Difcipline . 189 Longing . . . 156 The Invitation 191 The Bag . . 157 The Banquet . 192 The Jews . . 160 The Pofie . . 194 The Collar . . 161 AParodie . 195 The Glimpfe . 162 The Elixer 196 AfTurance . . 163 A Wreath . 197 The Call . . 164 Death 197 Clafping of Hand s . 165 Doomfday 198 Praife . . 166 Judgment 199 Jofeph's Coat . 167 Heaven 200 The Pulley . 168 Love 201 The Priefthood . . 168 The Church Militant ' 202 The Search . 170 L'Envoy 210 Grief . 172 MiCELLANEOUS POEMS- - The CrofTe . . 173 A Sonnet (New Year's The Flower . 174. Gift to his Mother) . 212 Dotage . 176 Infcription (to his Suc- The Sonne . . 177 ceflbr at Bermerton; 213 A True Hymnv . . 177 On Lord Danvers 213 The Anfwer . 178 A Priest to the A Dialogue- Anth em — Temple 215 Chriftian, Death . 179 The Author to the The Water-Courf e . 179 Reader . 216 Self Condemnatioi 1 . 180 Of a Paftor 217 Bitter Sweet . 181 Their Diverfities 218 The Glance . 181 The Parfon's Life 220 The 2 3rdPfalm . . 182 The Parfon's Knowledge 222 Marie Magdalene . 183 The Parfbn's AccefTory Aaron . 184. C Knowledges • 224 XXXIV CONTENTS. Page The Paifon's Praying . 226 The Parfon's Preaching 228 The Parfon on Sundays 231 The Parfon's ftate of Life . . .233 The Parfon in his Houfe 236 The Parfon's Courtefy . 24.I The Parfon's Charity . 243 The Parfon's Church . 245 The Parlbn in Circuit 246 The Parfon Comforting 749 The Parfon A Father . 250 The Parfon In Journey 251 The Parfon In Sentine) 252 The Parfon In Reference 254 The Parfon In God's Stead . . . 255 The Parfon Catechifing 256 The Parfon In Sacra- ments . . . 260 The Parfon's Complete- nefs . . . 262 The Parfon's Arguing 266 The Parfon Punifhing . 267 The Parfon's Eye .268 The Parfon In Mirth . 272 The Parfon In Contempt 273 The Parfon with his Church Wardens .275 The Parfon's Confidera- ration of Providence 276 The Parfon In Liberty 278 The Parfon's Surveys . 280 The Parfon's Library .286 Page The Parfon's Dexterity in Applying Reme- dies . . . .288 The Parfon's Conde- fcending . .292 The Parfon's Bleffing .293 Concerning Detraftion 295 The Author's Prayer before Sermon . 5*97 Prayer after Sermon . 299 Jacula Prudentum . 301 English Letters — To Henry Herbert Sir Henry Herbert To the fame To the fame To his Sifter (from Cambridge) To Sir J. D. (Sir John Danvers) To the fame To the fame To the fame To the fame To the truly noble Sir J. D. To the Right Hon. the Lady Anne Countefs of Pembroke and Montgomery . Latin Letters — Ad R. Naunton, Secret. Giatiae de Fluvio . 34» 343 34-3 34-5 346 347 348 349 350 351 3S» 353 CONTENTS. XXXV Pag Ad Ful.Grevil — Gratiae de Fiuvio . '35+ Ad R. Naunton— Gratia^ de Fiuvio et de tegen- dis Tei'^is Stramineis 354. Gratulatio de Marchio- natu ad Bucking, C. 355 Ad F. Bacon, Cancell — Gratiae de Inftaura- tionis Libro Acade- mise donate . -35^ Ad F. Coventry, Attorn. 358 Ad R. Naunton .358 Gratulatio ad Mountag. Thefaurar. . .359 Gratulatio ad Heath, Sollicitor, Procurator. 360 Jacobo Regi — 1. Gratioe de Scriptis Suis Aca- demiae donatis . .360 Jacobo Regi— 2. Gratia; de Fiuvio contra Re- demptores . .3^3 Ad F. Bacon, Cancell — Gratiae de Fiuvio . 363 Ad Archiep. Cantaur — De Bibliopolis Lond. 365 Ad Fr. Bacon, Cancell — De Bibliop. Lond. 365 Gratulatio ad F. Leigh — Capitalem Juftitia- rium Angl. . .366 Gratulatio ad Cranfield, Thefaurar . .367 Page Ad Lane Andrewes. Epifc. . . .368 Oratio qua Aufpicatif- fimum - Sereniflimi Principis Caroli Re- ditum ex Hifpania celebravit . .371 Oratio, liabita coram Dominis Legatis cum Magiftro in Artibus Titulis Infignirentur 384. Oration when the Am- bafladors were made Mafters of Arts .386 Preface to the Divine Confiderations of John Valdeflb . . .388 Notes to the fame . 389 A Treatife of Temper- ance and Sobriety .399 Latin and Greek Poems. Parentalia — Memoriae Matris Sacrum 415 Epitaphium . .4^3 Mufae Refponforiae. — Ad Andreae Melvini Scoti. Anti - Tami- Cami-Categoriam . 427 Epigrammata Apologe- tica. — Pro Difciplina Ecclefiae Nostrae . 435 Walliae Principi . .43^ Reverendis Epifc. Vin- tonienfi . . . 436 XXXVI CONTENTS. Page Ad Regem . . 436 Ad Melvinum . .437 Anti -Tami - Cami-Cate- goria . . .4.37 Partitio Anti - Tami- Cami-Categoriae . 4.37 In Metri Genus . .438 De Larvat^ Gorgone . 438 De Prajfulum Faftu . 439 De Gemina Academia . 439 De S. Baptifmi ritu . 440 De Signaculo Crucis . 441 De Juramento Ecclefiae 441 De Purificatione . 441 De Antichrifti decore Pontlficali . . 441 De Superpelliceo . . 442 De Pileo quadrato . 442 In Catharum . . 443 De Epifcopis . . 443 De lifdem ad Melvinum 444 De Textore Catharo . 444 De Magicis Rotatibvs . y \^y\ Ad Fratres . . . 445 De labe maculifque . 445 De Mufica Sacra . 445 De Eadem . . . 447 De rituum ufu . . 447 De Annulo Conjugali . 448 De Mundis et Mundanis 448 De Oratione Dominica 448 In Catharum quendara. 446 De lupa luftri Vaticani 449 Romadabit . . . 450 Page De Impofitione . . 450 Supplicum Miniftrorum Raptus . . . 450 De Au6lorum Enume- ratione . . -451 De Auri Sacra Fame . 452 Ad Scotiam Protrepticon ad Pacem . • 45^ Ad Sedu6los Innocentes 452 Ad Melvinum . .453 Ad Eundem . . 454 Ad Seren. Regem . 454 Ad Deum . . . 456 Inventa Bellica . . 456 Alia Poemata Latina , 457 Ad Audlorem Inftaura- tionis magnae . . 458 Ad Francifcum Bacon . 456 In honorem Fr. Bacon 460 In obitum Fr. Bacon. 461 Comparatio inter munus fummi — Cancellaria- tus et Liber . .461 ^thiopiffa ambit Cef- tum diverfi coloris virum . . .461 In Natales et Pafcha Concurrentes . . 46a Ad Johannem Donne, D.D. . . .46a In obitum ferenis Re- ginoe Annae . . +63 In Obitum Henrici 1' Principis Walliae , 463 THE TEMPLE, The Dedication, Lord, my firft fruits prefent themfelves to thee ; Yet not mine neither : for from thee they came, And muft return. Accept of them and me, And make us ftrive, who fhall fmg beft thy Name. Turn their eyes hither, who fhall make a gain : Theirs, who fhall hurt themfelves or me, refrain. The Church Porch. Perirrhanterium, ^ $^$ ^HOU, whofe fweet youth and early hopes *'' I ^^ inhance ^ X *B T"hy rate and price, and mark thee for a ^^♦j.^,^ treafure, Hearken unto a Verfer, who may chance Ryme thee to good, and make a bait of pleafure : A verfe may finde him, who a fermon flies. And turn delight into a facrifice. Beware of lufl ; it doth pollute and foul Whom God in Baptifme walht with his own blood : It blots thy lefTon written in thy foul ; The holy lines cannot be underflood. How dare thofe eyes upon a Bible look. Much lefTe towards God, whofe luft is all their book ! 2 HERBERT S POEMS. Abilain wholly, or wed. Thy bounteous Lord Allows thee choife of paths : take no by-wayes ; But gladly welcome what he doth afford ; Not grudging, that thy luft hath bounds and ftaies. Continence hath his joy : weigh both ; and fo If rottennelTe have more, let Heaven go. If God had laid all common, certainly Man would have been th' inclofer : but fmce now God hath impal'd us, on the contrarie Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough. O what were man, might he himfelf mifplace I Sure to be croffe he would fhift feet and face. Drink not the third glaffe, which thou canft not tame, When once it is within thee ; but before Mayft rule it, as thou lift, and poure the fhame, Which it would poure on thee, upon the floore. It is moft juft to throw that on the ground. Which would throw me there if I keep the round. He that is drunken, may his mother kill Bigge with his fifter : he hath loft the reins, Is outlawd by himfelfe : all kinde of ill Did with his liquor Hide into his veins. The drunkard forfets Man, and doth deveft All worldly right, fave what he hath by beaft. Shall I, to pleafe anothers wine-fprung minde, Lofe all mine own ? God hath giv'n me a meafure Short of his canne, and bodie ; muft I finde A pain in that, wherein he findes a pleafure ? Stay at the third glaffe : if thou lofe thy hold, Then thou art modeft, and the wine grows bold. If reafon move not Gallants, quit the room ; (All in a fhipwrack Ihift their feverall v/ay) THE CHURCH PORCH. ^ Let not a common ruine thee intombe : Be not a beaft in courtefie, but flay, Stay at the third cup, or forego the place. Wine above all things doth Gods flamp deface. Yet, if thou fmne in v/ine or wantonnefle, Boaft not thereof; nor make thy {hame thy glorie. Frailtie gets pardon by fubmiflivenelTe ; But he that boafts, fhuts that out of his ftorie : He makes flat warre with God, and doth defie With his poore clod of earth the fpacious fky. Take not his name, who made thy mouth, in vain : It gets thee nothing, and hath no excufe. Luft and wine plead a pleafure, avarice gain : But the cheap iwearer through his open fluce Lets his foul runne for nought, as little fearing : Were I an Epicure^ I could bate fwearing. When thou doft tell anothers jeft, therein Omit the oathes, which true wit cannot need : Pick out of tales the mirth, but not the fmne. He pares his apple, that will cleanly feed. Play not away the Vertue of that Name,* Which is the beft ftake, when griefs make thee tame. The cheapeft fmnes moft dearly punifht are ; Becaufe to fhun them alfo is fo cheap : For we have wit to mark them, and to fpare. O crumble not away thy fouls fair heap. If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad : Pride and full fmnes have made the way a road. Lie not ; but let thy heart be true to God, Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both : *That of Chriftian. B 2 4 HERBERT S POEMS. Cowards tells lies, aiid thole that fear the rod ; The ftormie working Ibul fpits lies and froth. Dare to be true. Nothing can need a ly : A fault, which needs it moll, grows two thereby. Flie idlenelle, which yet thou canft not flie By drelTing, millreffing, and complement. If thole take up thy day, the funne will crie Againll thee ; for his light was onely lent. God gave thy foul brave wings ; put not thofe feathers Into a bed, to fleep out all ill weathers. Art thou a Magiftrate ? then be fevere : If lludious ; copie fair what time hath blurr'd ; Redeem truth from his jawes : if fouldier. Chafe brave employments with a naked fword Throughout the world. Fool not ; for all may have, If they dare tr\^, a glorious life, or grave. O England ! full of fmne, but moft of floth ; Spit out thy flegme, and fill thy breaft with glorie : Thy Gentrie bleats, as if thy native cloth Tranffurd a llieepifhnefle into thv ftorie : Not that they all are fo ; but that the moft Are gone to gralle, and in the pafture loft. Tliis lofle fprings chiefly from our education. Some till their ground, but let weeds choke their fonne : Some mark a partridge, never their childes faftiion : Some ihip them over, and the thing is done. Studie this art, make it thy great defigne ; And if Gods image move thee not, let thine. Some great eftates provide, but do not breed A malFring minde ; fo both are loft thereby: Or els they breed them tender, make them need All that they lea\'e : this is flat povertie. THE CHURCH PORCH. 5 For he, that needs five thoufand pound to live, Is full as poore as he, that needs but five. The way to make thy fonne rich, is to fill His minde with reft, before his trunk with riches : For wealth without contentment, climbes a hill, To feel thofe tempefts, which fly over ditches. But if thy fonne can make ten pound his meafure. Then all thou addeft may be call'd his treafure. When thou doft purpofe ought, (within thy power) Be fure to doe it, though it be but fmall : Conftancie knits the bones, and makes us ftowre. When wanton pleafures beckon us to thrall. Who breaks his own bond, forfeiteth himfelf : What nature made a fliip, he makes a fhelf. Doe all things like a man, not fneakingly : Think the king fees thee ftillj for his King does. Simpring is but a lay-hypocrifie : Give it a corner, and the clue* undoes. Who fears to do ill, fets himfelf to tafk : Who fears to do well, fure fhould wear a mafk. Look to thy mouth : difeafes enter there. Thou haft two fconfes, f if thy ftomach call; Carve, or difcourfe ; do not a famine fear. Who carves, is kind to two ; who talks, to all. Look on meat, think it dirt, then eat a bit; And fay withall, Earth to earth I commit. Slight thofe who fay amidft their fickly healths, Thou liv'ft by rule. What doth not fo, but man ? * Ball of thread. f Sconce generally figniiies a llcull ; but fometimes alfo a bul- wark : it feems to bear the latter meaning in this line. If hunger tempts a man to over indulgence, he has two fafe-guards, he can either carve for others, or talk to them. 4* 6 Herbert's poems. Houfes are built by rule, and common-wealths. Entice the trufty funne, if that you can, From his Ecliptick line ; becken the fkie. Who lives by rule then, keeps good companie. Who keeps no guard upon himfelf, is flack, And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. Man is a (hop of rules, a well-truflT'd pack, Whofe every parcell under-writes a law. Lofe not thyfelf, nor give thy humours way: God gave them to thee under lock and key. By all means ufe fometimes to be alone. Salute thyfelf: fee what thy foul doth wear. Dare to look in thy cheft; for 'tis thine own : And tumble up and down what thou find'ft there. Who cannot reft till he good fellows finde. He breaks up houfe, turns out of doores his minde. Be thriftie, but not covetous : therefore give Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due. Never was fcraper brave man. Get to live; Then live, and ufe it : elfe, it is not true That thou haft gotten. Surely ufe alone Makes money not a contemptible ftone. Never exceed thy income. Youth may make Ev'n vv^ith the yeare : but age, if it will hit, Shoots a bow fliort, and lefTens ftill his ftake. As the day leiTens, and his life with it. Thy children, kindred, friends upon thee call ; Before thy journey fairly part with all. Yet in thy thriving ftill mifdoubt feme evil ; Left gainnig gain on thee, and make thee dimme To all things els. Wealth is the conjurers devil; Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him. THE CHURCH PORCH. Gold thou mayit fafely touch j but if it flick Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick. What fkills it, if a bag of ftones or gold About -thy neck do drown thee ? raife thy head ; Take ftarres for money; flarres not to be told By any art, yet to be purchafed. None is fo waflefull as the fcraping dame : She lofeth three for one; her foul, reft, fame. By no means runne in debt : take thine own meafure. Who cannot live on twentie pound a yeare, Cannot on fourtie : he's a man of pleafure, A kinde of thing that's for itfelf too deere. The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide. And fpares himfelf, but would his taylor chide. Spend not on hopes. They that by pleading clothes Do fortunes feek, when worth and fervice fail, Would have their tale beleeved for their oathes, And are like empty veflels under fail. Old courtiers know this; therefore fet out fo, As all the day thou mayll hold out to go. In clothes, cheap handfomenefle doth bear the bell, Wifdome's a trimmer thing, than (hop e'er gave. Say not then. This with that lace will do well; But, This with my difcretion will be brave. Much curioufneffe is a perpetual wooing, Nothing with labour, folly long a doing. Play not for gain, but fport. Who playes for more. Than he can lofe with pleafure, ftakes his heart : Perhaps his wifes too, and whom fhe hath bore : Servants and churches alfo play their part. ^ Onely a herauld, v/ho that way doth pafle, [glafle. Findes his crakt name at length in the church- HERBERT S POEMS. If yet thou love game at Co deere a rate, Learn this, that hath old gamefters deerely coft : Doft lofe ? rife up : doft winne ? rife in that ftate. Who ftrive to fit out lofing hands, are loft. Game is a civil gunpowder, in peace Blowing up houfes with their whole increafe. In converfation boldnelTe now bears fway. But know, that nothing can fo fooliih be. As empty boldnelTe : therefore firft affay To ftufFe thy minde with folid braverie; Then march on gallant : get fubftantiall worth : Boldnefle guilds finely, and will fet it forth. Be fweet to all. Is thy complexion fowre ? Then keep fuch companie; make them thy allay: Get a {harp wife, a fervant that will lowre. A ftumbler ftumbles leaft in rugged way. Command thyfclf in chief. He lifes warre knows, Whom all his paflions follow, as he goes. Catch not at quarrels. He that dares not fpeak Plainly and home, is coward of the two. Think not thy fame at cv'ry twitch will break : By great deeds fhew, that thou canft little do ; And do them not : that fhall thy wifdome be ; And change thy temperance into braverie. If that thy fame with ev'ry toy be poPd,* 'Tis a thinne web, which poyfonous fancies make; But the great fouldiers honour was compof'd Of thicker ftuffe, which would endure a fhake. Wifdome picks friends ; civilitie playes the reft. A toy {hunn'd cleanly pafTeth with the beft. * Be interrupted or ftopped. THE CHURCH PORCH. 9 Laugh not too much : the wittie man laughs leaft : For wit is newes only to ignorance. LefTe at thine own things laugh ; left in the jeft Thy perfon fhare, and the conceit advance. Make not thy fport, abufes : for the fly, That feeds on dung, is coloured thereby. Pick out of mirth, like ftones out of thy ground, ProfanenefTe, filthinefle, abufivenefle, Thefe are the fcumme, with which courfe wits abound : The line may fpare thefe well, yet not go leiTe. All things are bigge with jeft : nothing that's plain But may be wittie, if thou haft the vein. Wit's an unruly engine, wildly ftriking Sometimes a friend, fometimes the engineer : Haft thou the knack ? pamper it not with liking: But if thou want it, buy it not too deere. Many affecting wit beyond their power. Have got to be a deare fool for an houre. A fad wife valour is the brave complexion. That leads the van, and fwallows up the cities. The giggler is a milk-maid, whom infection. Or a fir'd beacon frighteth from his ditties. Then he's the fport : the mirth then in him refts, And the fad maji is cock of all his jefts.* Towards great perfons ufe refpe6live boldnefle : That temper gives them theirs, and yet doth take Nothing from thine : in fervice, care, or coldnefle Doth ratablyt thy fortunes marre or make. Feed no man in his finnes : for adulation Doth make thee parcell-devil in damnation, * The ferious man wins the vi^ory. f Proportionably. 10 HERBERT S POEMS. Envie not greatnelTe • for thou mak'ft thereby Thyfelf the worfe, and fo the diftance greater. Be not thine own worm : yet fuch jealoufie, As hurts not others, but may make thee better, Is a good fpurre. Corred: thy paflions fpite ; Then may the beafts draw thee to happy light.* When bafenefTe is exalted, do not bate The place its honour, for the perfons fake. The fhrine is that which thou doft venerate ; And not the beaft, that bears it on his back. I care not though the cloth of flate ftiould be Not of rich arras,"!" ^^^ mean tapeltrie."j" Thy friend put in thy bofome : wear his eies Still in thy heart, that he may fee what's there. If caufe require, thou art his facrifice ; Thy drops of bloud muft pay down all his fear ; But love is loft ; the way of friendfhip's gone ; Though David had his Jonathan, Chrift his John. Yet be not furety, if thou be a father. Love is a perfonall debt. I cannot give My childrens right, nor ought he take it : rather Both friends fbould die, than hinder them to live. Fathers firft enter bonds to natures ends ; And are her fureties, ere they are a friend's. If thou be fmgle, all thy goods and ground Submit to love ; but yet not more then all. Give one eftate, as one life. None is bound To work for two. who brought himfelf to thrall. * The fanctified paflions become inftruments of a blefling. f Both words are uied indifcriminately for cloth woven in regular figures. THE CHURCH PORCH. II God made me one man ; love makes me no more, Till labour come, and make my weaknefle fcore. In thy difcourfe, if thou defire to pleafe : All fuch is courteous, ufefull, new, or wittie : Ufefulnefle comes by labour, wit by eafe ; Courtefie grows in court ; news in the citie. Get a good flock of thefe, then draw the card ; » That fuites him beft, of whom thy fpeech is heard. Entice all neatly to what they know beft ; For fo thou doli thyfelf and him a pleafure : (But a proud ignorance will lofe his reft. Rather than ftiew his cards) fteal from his treafure What to afk further. Doubts well-raifM do lock The fpeaker to thee, and preferve thy ftock. If thou be Mafter-gunner, fpend not all That thou canft fpeak, at once ; but huft)and it. And give men turns of fpeech :* do not foreftall By laviftineffe thine own, and others wit. As if thou mad'ft thy v/ill. A civil gueft Will no more talk all, than eat ail the feaft. Be calm in arguing : for fiercenefle makes Errour a fault, and truth difcourtefie. Why jQiould I feel another mans miftakes More, than his ficknefles or povertie ? In love I ftiould : but anger is not love, Nor wifdome neither ; therefore gently move.f * ** Let him be fure to leave other men their turns to fpeak. Nay, If there be any that would reign, and take up all the time, let him find means to take them off, and bring others on ; as mufjcians ule to do, witlWiofe that dance too long Galliards."" — Bacon's Essays, xxxii. t Mr. Coleridge faid, " I do not underftand this ftanza.'' The oblcurity lies in the fifth line. The poet teaches calmnefs 12 Herbert's poems. Calmnefle is great advantage : he that lets Another chafe, may warm him at his fire : Mark all his wandrings, and enjoy his frets ; As cunning fencers fufFer heat to tire. Truth dwels not in the clouds : the bow that's there Doth often aim at, never hit the fphere. Mark what another fayes : for many are Full of themfelves, and anfwer their own notion. Take all into thee ; then with equail care Ballance each dramme of reafon, like a potion. If truth be with thy friend, be with them both : Share in the conqueft, and confefTe a troth. Be ufeful where thou liveft, that they may Both want, and wifh thy pleafmg prefence flill. KindnefTe, good parts, great places are the way To compalfe this. Finde out mens wants and will, And meet them there. All worldly joyes go lefTe To the one joy of doing kindnefles. Pitch thy behaviour low, thy projefts high : So fhalt thou humble and magnanimous be : in difputes by fhowing that intemperate zeal takes even the grace from truth. Then he alks, " why (hould I feci," &c ? For example, a perlbn argues with me upon the climate of Egypt ; he is decidedly wrong. I try to correct him. But why fhould I trouble mylelf with his geographical errors, when I take Co little note of his bodily wants ? *' In love I fhould, but anger is not love :" i. e., if I were warmly attached tQ|||his man, I might have fuch fentiments, which are the natural breathings of love, but anger has no relationihip to that pafTion ; no, nor even that certainty of learning which is wifdom j " therefore, gently move j" i. e. condu(Sl the argument with fweetnefs and difcretion. THE CHURCH PORCH. Sink not in fpirit : who aimeth at the fky Shoots higher much than he that means a tree. A grain of glorie mixt with humblenefle Cures both a fever and lethargicknefle. Let thy minde ftill be bent, ftill plotting where. And when, and how the bufmefTe may be done. SlacknefTe breeds worms ; but the fure traveller. Though he alight fometimes, ftill goeth on. Active and ftirring fpirits live alcne : Write on the others. Here lies fuch a one. Slight not the fmalleft lofle, whether it be In love or honour ; take account of all : Shine like the funne in every corner : fee Whether thy ftock of credit fwell or fall. Who fay, I care not, thofe I give for loft ; And to inftru6l them, 'twill not quit the coft. Scorn no mans love, though of a mean degree ; (Love is a prefent for a mightie king,) Much lefie make any one thine enemie. As gunnes deftroy, fo may a little fling. The cunning workman never doth refufe The meaneft tool, that he may chance to ufe. All forrain* wifdome doth amount to this. To take all that is given ; whether wealth. Or love, or language ; nothnig comes amiffe : A good digeftion turneth all to health : And then as farre as fair behaviour may. Strike off" all fcores ; none are fo cleare as they. Keep all thy native good, and naturalize All forrain of that name ; but fcorn their ill : * Foreign. 5 ^3 Embrace their a6^Ivenefre, not vanities. Who follows all things, forfeiteth his will. If thou obferveft ftrangers in each fit, In time they'l runne thee out of all thy wit. AfFe^t in things about thee cleanlinefTe, That all may gladly board thee, as a flowre. Slovens take up their ftock of noifomenefle Beforehand, and anticipate their laft houre. Let thy mindes fweetnefs have his operation Upon thy body, clothes, and habitation. In Almes regard thy means, and others merit. Think heav'n a better bargain, then to give Onely thy fmgle market-money for it. Joyn hands with God to make a man to live. Give to all fomething ; to a good poore man, Till thou change names, and be where he began. Man is Gods image ; but a poore man is Chrifts ftamp to boot ;* both images regard. God reckons for him, counts the favour his : Write, So much giv*n to God ; thou {halt be heard. Let thy almes go before, and keep heav*ns gate Open for thee ; or both may come too late. Reftore to God his due in tithe and time : A tithe purloin'd cankers the whole eftate. Sundaies obferve : think when the bells do chime,t ' Tis angels mufick ; therefore come not late. * In addition. •f- Southey fays bea^itifully of the church chime, that " it is a mufic hallowed by all circumftances, which, according equally with focial exultation, and with folitary penfivenefs, though it falls upon many an unheeding ear, never fails to find fome hearts which it exhilarates, and forae which it foftcns." THE CHURCH PORCH. I5 God then deals blcflings : If a king did fo, "Who would not hafte, nay give, to fee the fliow ? Twice on the day his due is underftood ; For all the week thy food fo oft he gave thee. Thy cheere is mended ; bate not of the food, Becaufe *tis better, and perhaps may fave thee. Thwart not th' Almighty God : O be not croffe. Faft when thou wilt ; but then 'tis gain, not loffe. Though private prayer be a brave defigne, Yet publick hath more promifes, more love : And love's a weight to hearts, to eies a figne. We all are but cold fuitors ; let us move Where it is warmeft. Leave thy fix and (even ; Pray with the moft : for where moft pray, is heaven. When once thy foot enters the church, be bare. God is more there, then thou : for thou art there Onely by his permiflion. Then beware. And make thyfelf all reverence and fear. Kneeling ne're fpoil'd filk flocking : quit thy ftate. All equall are within the churches gate. Refort to fermons, but to prayers moft : Praying's the end of preaching. O be dreft ; Stay not for th' other pin : why thou haft loft A joy for it worth worlds. Thus hell doth jeft Away thy bleffings, and extreamly flout* thee. Thy clothes being faft, but thy foul loofe about thee. In time of fervice feal up both thine eies, ' And fend them to thine heart ; that fpying fmne, They may weep out the ftains by them did rife : Thofe doores being fhut, all by the eare comes in. * Mock. 16 AVho marks in church-time others fymmetriej Makes all their beautie his deformitie. Let vain or bufie thoughts have there no part : Bring not thy plough, thy plots, thy pleafures thither. Chrift purg'd his temple ; fo mull thou thy heart. All worldly thoughts are but theeves met together To couzin* thee. Look to thy actions well ; For churches either are our heav'n or hell, Juage not the preacher ; for he is thy Judge : If thou miflike him, thou conceiv'ft him not. God calleth preaching folly. Do not grudge To pick out treafures from an earthen pot. The worft fpeak fomething good : if all want fenfe, God takes a text, and preacheth patience. He that gets patience, and the blefling which Preachers conclude with, hath not loft his pains. He that by being at church efcapes the ditch. Which he might fall in by companions, gains. He that loves Gods abode, and to combine With faints on earth, fhall one day with them fhine. Jeft not at preachers language or expreflion : How know'ft thou, but thy fmnes made him mifcarrie ? Then turn thy faults and his into confeflion : God fent him, whatfoe'er he be : O tarry, And love him for his Mafter : his condition, Though it be ill, makes him no ill Phyfician. None (hall in hell fuch bitter pangs endure As. thofe, who mock at Gods way of falvation. Whom oil and balfames kill, what falve can cure ? ^ They drink with greedinefle a full damnation. * Deceive. THE CHURCH. I^ The Jev/s refufed thunder ; and we, folly. Though God do hedge us m, yet who is holy? Summe up at night, what thou haft done by dayj* And in the morning, what thou haft to do. Dreftef and undrefie thy foul : mark the decay And growth of it : if with thy v/atch, that too Be down, then winde up both, fmce we fhall be Moft furely judg'd, make thy accounts agree. In brief, acquit thee bravely; play the man. Look not on pleafures as they come, but go. Defer not the leaft vertue : lifes poore fpan Make not an ell, by trifling in thy wo. If thou do ill ; the joy fades, not the pains : If well i the pain doth fade, the joy remains. THE CHURCH. Superliminare.J THOU, whom the former precepts have Sprinkled and taught, how to behave Thy felf in church ; approach, and tafte The churches myfticall repaft. * So Sir Charles Bawdin, in Chatterton's Briftowe tragedy : And none can lay but alle my lyfFe, 1 have his wordyes kept ; And ilimmed the a6lions of the day Eche nighte before I llept. f To drefs a foul for a funeral is not a work to be difpatched at one meeting." — Taylor, Holy Dying, ch. v. 2. X The Threfhold. 5* i8 Herbert's poems. Avoid profanenefle ; come not here Nothing but holy, pure, and cleare^ Or that which groneth to be fo. May at his perill further go. The Altar. A BROKEN Altar, Lord, thy fervant reares, Made of a heart, and cemented with teares : Whofe parts are as thy hand did frame ; No workmans tool hath touched the fame. A Heart alone Is fuch a Itone, As nothing but Thy pow'r doth cut. Wherefore each part Of my hard heart Meets in this frame, To praife thy name : That, if I chance to hold my peace, Thefe ftones to praife thee may not ceafe. O let thy bleiTed Sacrifice be mine, And fandifie this Altar to be thine. The Sacrifice. OH all ye, who pafTe by, whofe eyes and minde To worldly things are fharp, but to me blinde j To me, who took eyes that J might you flnde : Was ever grief like mine ? THE CHURCH. ^9 The Princes of my people make a head Againft their Maker : they do wifh me dead, "Who cannot wifh, except I give them bread : Was ever grief hke mine ? Without me each one, v/ho doth now me brave, Had to this day been an Egyptian (lave. They ufe that power againll me, which I gave : Was ever grief like mine ? Mine own Apoftle, who the bag did beare, Though he had all I had, did not forbeare To fell me alfo, and to put me there : Was ever grief like mine ? For thirtie pence he did my death devife, Who at three hundred did the ointment prize, Not half fo fweet as my fweet facriiice : Was ever grief like mine ? Therefore my fo'il melts, and my hearts deare treafure Drops bloud (the only beads) my words to meafure : O let this cup pafTe, if it be thy pleafure : Was ever grief like mine ? Thefe drops being temper'd with a fmners tears, A Balfome are for both the Hemifpheres, Curing all wounas, but mine : all, but my fears. Was ever grief like mine ? Yet my Difciples fleep : I cannot gain One houre of watching ; but their drowfie brain Comforts not me, and doth my doOinne ftain : Was ever grief like mine ? c 2 20 HERBERT S POEMS. Arife, arife, they come. Look how they runne Alas ? what hafte they make to be undone ! How with their lanterns do they feek the funne ! Was ever grief like mine ? With clubs and ftaves they feek me^ as a thief. Who am the way of truth, the true relief, Moft true to thofe who are my greateft grief: Was ever grief like mine ? Judas, doft thou betray me with a kiile ? Canft thou iinde hell about my lips ? and mifTc Of life, juft at the gates of life and bliile ? Was ever grief like mine ? See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands Of faith, but furie ; yet at their commands I fufFer binding, who have looPd their bands : Was ever grief like mine ? All my Difciples flie ; fear puts a barre Betwixt my friends and me. They leave the ftarre. That brought the wife men of the Eaft from farre : Was ever grief like mine ? Then from one ruler to another bound They leade me : urging, that it was not found What I taught : Comments would the text confound. Was ever grief like mine ? The Priefls and rulers all falfe witnelTe feek 'Gainft him, who feeks not life, but is the meek And readie Pafchal Lambe of this great week : Was ever grief like mine ? THE CHURCH. 21 Then they accufe me of great blafphemic, That I did thruft into the Deitie, Who never thought that any robberie : Was ever grief like mine ? Some said, that I the Temple to the floore In three days razM,* and raifed as before. 'Why, he that built the world can do much more : Was ever grief like mine ? Then they condemne me all with that fame breath, Which I do give them daily, unto death. Thus Adam my firft breathing rendereth : Was ever grief like mine ? They binde, and leade me unto Herod : he Sends me to Pilate. This makes them agree ; But yet their friendfhip is my enmitie. Was ever grief like mine ? Herod and all his bands do fet me light. Who teach all hands to warre, fingers to fight. And onely am the Lord of hofts and might. Was ever grief like mine ? Herod in judgment fits, while I do fland ; Examines me with a cenforious hand : I him obey, who all things elfe command : Was ever grief like mine } The Jews accufe me with defpitefulnefTe ; And vying malice with my gentlenefTe, Pick quarrels with their onely happinefTe : Was ever grief like mine ? • Overthrew. "* 22 HERBERT'S POEMS. I anfwer nothing, but with patience prove If ftonie hearts will melt with gentle love. But who does hawk at eagles with a dove ? Was ever grief like mine ? My filence rather doth augment their crie ; My dove doth back into my bofome Hie, Becaufe the raging waters ftill are high : Was ever grief like mine ? Hark how they crie aloud ftill, Crucifie : It is not fit he live a day, they crie. Who cannot live lefTe than eternally : Was ever grief like mine ? Pilate a ftranger holdeth off; but they, Mine own deare people, cry. Away, away, With noifes confufed frighting the day : Was ever grief like mine ? Yet ftill they ftiout, and crie, and ftop their eares, Putting my life among their linnes and fears. And therefore wifli my bloud on them and theirs : Was ever grief like mine ? See how fpite cankers things, Thefe words aright Ufed, and wifhed, are the whole worlds light : But hony is their gall, brightneffe their night : Was ever grief like mine ? They choofe a murderer, and all agree In him to do themfelves a courtefie • For it was their own caufe who killed me : X Was ever grief like mine ? THE CHURCH. ai And a feditious murderer he was : But I the Prince of peace ; peace that doth pafTe All underftanding, more than heav*n doth glafTe : Was ever grief like mine ? Why, Cefar is their onely King, not I : He clave the ftonie rock, when they were drie ; But furely not their hearts, as I well trie : Was ever grief like mine ? Ah ! how they fcourge me ! yet my tendernefle Doubles each lafh : and yet their bitternelTe Windes up my grief to a myfterioufnefle : Was ever grief like mine ? They buffet me, and box me as they lift, Who grafp the earth and heaven with my fift, And never yet, whom I would punifli, miffM : Was ever grief like mine ? Behold, they fpit on me in fcornfuU wife j Who by my fpittle gave the blinde man eies, Leaving his blindnelTe to mine enemies : Was ever grief like mine ? My face they cover, though it be divine. As Mofes face was vailed, fo is mine. Left on their double-dark fouls either ftiine : Was ever grief like mine ? Servants and abje^ls flout me ; they are wittle : Now prophefie who ftrikes thee, is their dittie. So they in me denie themfelves all pitie : Was ever grief like mine ? a4 Herbert's poems. And now I am deliver'd unto death, Which each one cals for To with utmoft breath, That he before me well-nigh fuffereth : Was ever grief like mine ? Weep not, deare friends, fmce I for both have wept : When all my tears were bloud, the while you flept : Your tears for your own fortunes fhould be kept : Was ever grief like mine ? The fouldiers lead me to the common hall; There they deride me, they abufe me all; Yet for twelve heav'nly legions I could call : W as ever grief like mine ? Then with a fcarlet robe they me aray; Which fhews my bloud to be the onely way, And cordiall left to repair mans decay : Was ever grief like mine ? Then on my head a crown of thorns I wear; For thefe are all the grapes Sion doth bear. Though I my vine planted and watred there: Was ever grief like mine ? So fits the earths great curfe in Adams fall Upon my head; fo I remove it all From th* earth unto my brows, and bear the thrall: W as ever grief like mine ? Then with the reed they gave to me before. They ftrike my head, the rock irom v/hence all flore Of heav'nly bleflings iflue evermore : Was ever grief like mine ? THE CHtJRCH. 25 They bow their knees to me, and cry, Hail king : What ever fcoffes or fcornfulnefle can bring, I am the floore, the fmk, where they it fling : Was ever grief like mijie ? Yet fmce mans fcepters are as frail as reeds. And thorny all their crowns, bloudie their weeds ; I, who am Truth, turn into truth their deeds : Was ever grief like mine ? The fouldiers alfo fpit upon that face Which Angels did defire to have the grace, And Prophets once to fee, but found no place : Was ever grief like mine ? Thus trimmed forth they bring me to the rout. Who Crucifie him, crie with one ftrong fhout. God holds his peace at man, and man cries out : Was ever grief like mine ? They leade me in once more, and putting then Mine own clothes on, they leade me out agen. Whom devils flie, thus is he tofT'd of men : Was ever grief like mine? And now wearie of fport, glad to ingrofTe All fpite in one, counting my life their lolTe, They carrie me to my moft bitter crofTe : W as ever grief like mine ? My crofTe I bear my felf, untill I faint : Then Simon bears it for me by conftraint, The decreed burden of each mortall Saint : Was ever grief like mine ? 6 26 Herbert's poems. O all ye who pafTe by, behold and fee : Man ftole the fruit, but I muft climbe the tree ; The tree of life to all, but onely me : Was ever grief like mine ? Lo, here I hang, charg'd with a world of fmne, The greater world o' th' two ; for that came in By words, but this by forrow I muft win : Was ever grief like mine ? Such forrow, as if fmful man could feel, Or feel his part, he would not ceafe to kneel, Till all were melted, though he were all fteel. Was ever grief like mine ? But, O my God, my God ! why leav'ft thou me, The fonne, in whom thou doft delight to be ? My God, my God Never was grief like mine. Shame tears my foul, my bodie many a wound ; Sharp nails pierce this, but fharper that confound ; Reproches, which are free, while I am bound : Was ever grief like mine ? Now heal thyfelf, Phyfician j now come down. Alas ! I did fo, when I left my crown And fathers fmile for you, to feel his frown : Was ever grief like mine ? In healing not myfelf, there doth confift All that falvation, which ye now refift ; Your fafetie in my ficknefle doth fubfift : Was ever grief like mine ? THE CHURCH. Betwixt two theeves I Ipend my utmoft breath, As he that for fome robberie fuffereth, Alas ! what have I ftollen from you ? death : Was ever grief like mine ? A king my title is, prefixt on high ; Yet by my fubje6ls am condemned to die A fervile death in fervile companie : Was ever grief like mine ? They gave me vineger mingled with gall, But more with malice : yet, when they did call, With Manna, Angels food, I fed them all : Was ever grief like mine ? 27 They part my garments, and by lot difpofe My coat, the type of love, which once cur'd thofe Who fought for help, never malicious foes : Was ever grief like mine ? Nay, after death their fpite fhall further go ; For they will pierce my fide, I full well know ; That as fmne came, fo Sacraments might flow: Was ever grief like mine ? But now I die ; now all is finifhed. My wo, mans weal:* and now I bow my head Onely let others fay, when I am dead. Never was grief like mine. • Good 28 Herbert's poems. The Thankfgiving. OFI King of grief ! (a title ftrange, yet true, l^o thee of all kings onely due) Oh King of v/ounds ! how Ihall I grieve for thee, Who in all grief preventeft me ? Shall I weep bloud ? why, thou hall: wept fuch ftore, That all thy body was one doore. Shall I be fcourged, flouted, boxed, fold ? 'Tis but to tell the tale is told. My God, my God, why doft thou part from me ? Was fuch a grief as cannot be. Shall I then fmg, fkipping, thy dolefull ftorie, And lide with thy triumphant glorie ? Shall thy ftrokes be my ftroking ? thorns, my flower ? Thy rod, my pofie ? crofl'e, my bower ? But how then fhall I imitate thee, and Copie thy fair, though bloudie hand ? Surely I will revenge me on thy love. And trie who fhall victorious prove. If thou doft give ipe wealth ; I will reftore All back unto thee by the poore. If thou doft give me honour ; men fhall fee. The honour doth belong to thee. I will not marry j or, if fhe be mine, She and her children fhall be thine. My bofome friend, if he blafpheme thy name, I will tear thence his love and fame. One half of me being gone, the reft I give Unto fome Chapell, die or live. As for thy paflion — But of that anon. When with the other I have done. For thy predeftinatioa, Tie contrive. That three years hence, if I furvive. THE CHURCH. 2g rie build a fpittle,* or mend common wayes, But mend mine own without delayes. Then I will ufe the works of thy creation, • As if I uPd them but for a fafhion. The world and I will quarrell ; and the yeare Shall not perceive, that I am here. My mufick fhall finde thee, and ev'ry firing Shall have his attribute to nng j That all together may accord in thee, And prove one God, one harmonic. If thou ihalt give me wit, it fhall appeare, If thou haft giv'n it me, 'tis here. Nay, I will reade thy booke, and never move Till I have found therein thy love ; Thy art of love, v/hich I'le turn back on thee. Oh my deare Saviour, Vi6torie ! Then for thy pafTion — 1 will do for that — Alas, my God, I know not what. The Reprifall. I HAVE confider'd It, and finde There is no dealing with thy mighty paifion ? For though I die for thee, I am behinde ; My fmnes deferve the condemnation. O make me innocent, that I May give a difentangled flate and free j And yet thy wounds flill my attempts delie, For by thy death I die for thee. * An old colloqxiial abbreviation of hofpital. 6* 30 Ah ! was it not enough that thou By thy eternall glorie didft outgo me ? Coul^ft thou not griefs fad conquefts me allow. But in all vi6l'ries overthrow me ? Yet by confeffion will I come Into the conqueft. Though I can do nought Againft thee, in thee I will overcome The man^ who once againft thee fought.* The Agonie. pi iHILOSOPHERS have meafured mountains, Fathom'd the depths of feas, of ftates^and kings, Walk'd with a ftafFe to heav'n, and traced fountains : But there are two vaft, fpacious things, The which to meafure it doth more behove : Yet few there are that found them ; Sinne and Love. Who would know Sinne, let him repair Unto mount Olivet ; there fhall he fee A man fo wrung with pains, that all his hair, His fkinne, his garments bloudie be. Sinne is that preflef and vice, which forceth pain To hunt his cruell food through ev'ry vein. Who knows not Love, let him allay. And tafte that juice, which on the crolTe a pike Did fet again abroach ;% then let him fay If ever he did tafte the like. * The old man in the heart, fubdued by grace. "t" ** I have trodden the wine-prefs alone." — Ifaiah Ixiii. 3. X A word of Chaucer, to tap. THE CHURCH. 31 Love is that liquour fweet and moft divine, Which my God feels as bloud ; but I, as vi^ine. The Sinner. LORD, how I am all ague, v^^hen I feek What I have treafur'd in my memorie ! Since, if my foul make even with the week, Each feventh note by right is due to thee. I finde there quarries of pil'd vanities. But ihreds of holinefle, that dare not venture To fhew their face, fmce crofTe to thy decrees : There the circumference earth is, heav'n the centre. In fo much dregs the quinteilence is fmall : The fpirit and good extra6l of my heart Comes to about the many hundredth part. Yet, Lord, reftore thine image, heare my call: And though my hard heart fcarce to thee can grone. Remember that thou once didft write in ftone. Good Friday. o MY chief good, How fhall 1 meafure out thy bloud ? How (hall I count what thee befell. And each grief tell ? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes ? Or, fmce one ftarre ihow'd thy firft breath, Shall all thy death ? 32 HERBERT S POEMS. Or ihall each leaf, Which falls in Autumne, fcore* a grief? Or cannot leaves, but fruit, be figne, Of the true vine ? Then let each houre Of my whole life one grief devoure ; That thy diftrefTe through all may runne, And be my funne. Or rather let My feverall fumes their forrow^s get ; That as each beaft his cure doth know, Each fmne may fo. Since bloud is fittefl. Lord, to write Thy forrows in, and bloudie fight ; My heart hath flore ; write there, where in One box doth lie both ink and fmne : That when fmne fpies fo many foes, Thy whips, thy nails, thy wounds, thy woes, All come to lodge there, fmne may fay. No room for me, and flie away. Sinne being gone, oh fill the place, And keep polIefTion with thy grace ; Left fmne take courage and return. And all the writings blot or burn. Redemption. HAVING been tenant long to a rich Lord, Not thriving, I refoived to be bold, And make a iuit unto him, to afford A new fmall-rented leafe, and cancell th' old. * Mark or notch. THE CHURCH. 33 In heaven at his manour I him fought : They told me there, that he was lately gone About fome land, which he had dearly bought Long fmce on earth, to take pofTeilion. I ftraight returned, and knov/ing his great birth, Sought him accordingly in great reforts ; In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts : At length I heard a ragged noife and mirth Of theeves and murders : there I~ him efpied, Who ftraight, Your/mif i^t3^^^.>, ^^^^t and died. ^ received/ 5 FEB 1 2 1903 ! Sep^lf'"''''/ O BLESSED bodie ! Whither art thou thrown ? No lodging for thee, but a cold hard ftone ? So many hearts on earth, and yet not one Receive thee ? Sure there is room within our hearts good ftore ; For they can lodge tranfgreflions by the fcore : Thoufands of toyes dwell there, yet out of doore They leave thee. But that which fhews them large, fhews them unfit. Whatever fmne did this pure rock commit, Which holds thee now ? Who hath indited it Of murder ? 34 Herbert's poems. Where our hard hearts have took up ftones to brain* thee, And miffing thi^, moft falfely did arraigne thee ; Onely thefe ftones in quiet entertain thee, And order. And as of old, the law by heav'nly art, Was writ in ftone ; (o thou, which alfo art The letter of the word, find'ft no fit heart To hold thee. Yet do we ftill perfift as we began, And fo ftiould perifh, but that nothing can. Though it be cold, hard, foul, from loving man Withhold thee. Eafter. "|3 ISE heart ; thy Lord is rifen. Sing his praife J[\^ Without delayes. Who takes thee by the hand, that thou likewife With him mayft rife : That, as his death calcined thee to duft. His life may make thee gold, and much more juft. Awake, my lute, and ftruggle for thy part With all thy art The crofTe taught all wood to refound his name Who bore the fame. His ftretched finews taught all ftrings, what key Is beft to celebrate this moft high day. * To beat out the brains ; hence comes the modem phrafe^ to " knock a fcheme upon the head " THE CHURCH. om Confort both heart and lute, and twift a fong Pleafant and long : Or fince all mufick is but three parts vied* And multiplied ; let thy blefled Spirit bear a part, And make up our defe6ls with his fweet art. 1 got me flowers to ftraw thy way ; I got me boughs ofF many a tree : But thou waft up by break of day. And broughtft thy fweets along with thee. The Sunne arifrng in the Eaft, Though he give light, and th' Eaft perfume ; If they fhould offer to conteft With thy arifrng, they prefume. Can there be any day but this, Though many funnes to fhine endeavour ? We count three hundred, but we mille : There is but one, and that one ever. * To ** vie" was a term ufed in an old game of cards, called Gluck ; here it means the contrafts in mufic, where each variation appears to contend with the other. D a 36 Herbert's poems. Eafter Wings. LORD, who createdft man in wealth and ftore, Though foolifhly he loft the fame, Decaying more and more, Till he became Moft poor : With thee O let me rife As larks, harmonioufly. And fmg this day thy Victories : Then fhall the fall further the flight in me. My tender age in forrow did beginne : And ftill with fickneiTes and fliame Thou didft fo punifh fmne, That I became Moft thinne. With thee Let me combine. And feel this day thy vi£lorie, For, if I imp my wing on thine, Affli61:ion ftiall advance the flight in me. Holy Baptifme, As he that fees a dark and ftiadie grove, Stayes not, but looks beyond it on the fkie ; So when I view my fmnes, mine eyes remove More backward ftill, and to that water flie, THE CHURCH. 37 Which is above the heavens, whofe fpring and rent Is in my dear Redeemers pierced fide. O blefTed ftreams ! either ye do prevent And flop our finnes from growing thick and wide, Or elfe give tears to drown them, as they grow. In you Redemption meafures all my time, And fpreads the plaifler equall to the crime : You taught the book of life my name, that fo. Whatever future finnes fhould me mifcall, Your firft acquaintance might difcredit all. Holy Baptifme, SINCE, Lord, to thee A narrow way and little gate Is all the paflage, on my infancie Thou didft lay hold and antedate My faith in me. O let me ftill Write thee great God, and me a childe : Let me be foft and fupple to thy will. Small to myfelf, to others milde, Behither* ill. Although by ftealth My flefh get on ; yet let her fifter My foul bid nothing, but preferve her wealth : The growth of flefh is but a blifter ; Childhood is health. f * On this fide of, or except in anything evil. f So Chryfoftom : " The office of repentance is, when they have been made new, and then become old through fins, to free them from their oldnefe, and make them new ; but it cannot 7 38 Herbert's poems. Nature. FULL of rebellion, I would die, Or fight, or travell, or denie That thou haft ought to do with me. O tame my heart ; * It is thy higheft art To captivate ftrong holds to thee. If thou ftialt let this venome lurk. And in fuggeftions fume and work. My foul will turn to bubbles ftraight, And thence by kinde Vanifh into a winde. Making thy workmanfhip deceit. O fmooth my rugged heart, and there Engrave thy rev'rend law and fear ; Or make a new one, fmce the old Is faplefle grown. And a much fitter flone To hide my duft, then thee to hold. Sinne. LORD, with what care haft thou begirt us round ! Parents firft feafon us : then fchoolmafters Deliver us to laws ; they fend us bound To rules of reafon, holy meflengers, bring them to their former brightnefs ; for then the whole was good." THE CHURCH. 39 Pulpits and fundayes, forrow* dogging finne, AfilicStions forted, anguifli of all fizes, Fine nets and flratagems to catch us in, Bibles laid open, millions of furprifes, Bleilings beforehand,, tyes of gratefulnelTe, The found of glorie ringing in our eares ; Without, our Ihame ; within, our confciences ; Angels and grace, eternall hopes and fears. Yet all thefe fences and their whole aray One cunning bofome-fnine blows quite away. Affliaion.t WHEN hrft thou didft entice to thee my heart, I thought the fervice brave : So many joyes I writ down for my part, Befides what I might have Out of my flock of naturall delights. Augmented with thy gracious benefits. * Fear dread events that dog them both. — Com us, 405. f " He would often fay, ' he had too thoughtful a wit j a wit like a penknife, in too narrow a fheath, too fharp for his body.' But his mother would by no means allow him to leave the Univerfity, or to travel ; and though he inclined very much to both, yet he covild by no means latiiYy his own defires at fo dear a rate, as to prove an undutiful Ion to lb affectionate a mother i but did always fubmit to her wiidom. And what I have now laid may partly appear in a copy of verfes in his printed Poems j it is one of thofe that bear the title of * Afflic- tion.'" — IsAAK Walton. 40 HERBERT S POEMS. I looked on thy furniture fo fine, And made it fine to me ; Thy glorious houfhold-ftufFe did me entwine, And 'tice me unto thee. Such ftarres I counted mine : both heav'n and earth Payd me my wages in a world of mirth. What pleafures could I want, whofe King I ferved, Where joyes my fellows were ? Thus arguM into hopes, my thoughts referved No place for grief or fear ; Therefore my fudden foul caught at the place, And made her youth and fiercenefle feek thy face : At firft thou gav'ft me milk and fweetnefles ; I had my wifh and way : My days were ftraw'd with flow'rs and happinefles ; There was no moneth* but May. But with my yeares forrow did twift and grow, And made a party unawares for wo. My flefh began t unto my foul in pain, SicknefTes cleave my bones, Confuming agues dwell in ev'ry vein. And tune my breath to grones : Sorrow was all my foul : I fcarce beleeved. Till grief did tell me roundly, that I lived. * Month. f An old idiom ftill ufed in Scotland ; it is found In Shaken fpere : — '* Then * began' the tempeft to my foul." Richard III., Act i. fc. 4. THE CHURCH. 4I When I got health, thou took'ft away my life, And more ; for my friends die : My mirth and edge was loft ; a blunted knife Was of more ufe then I . Thus thinne and lean without a fence or friend, I was blown through with ev'ry ftorm and winde. Whereas my birth and fpirit rather took The way that takes the town j Thou didft betray me to a lingring book. And wrap me in a gown. I was entangled in the world of ftrife, Before I had the power to change my life. Yet, for I threatned oft the fiege to raife. Not fimpring all mine age, Thou often didft with Academick praife Melt and diftblve my rage. I took thy fweetened pill, till I came neare ; I could not go away, nor perfevere. Yet left perchance I ftiould too happie be In my unhappinefle. Turning my purge to food, thou throweft me Into more ficknefles. Thus doth thy power crofs-bias* me, not making Thine own gift good, yet me from my ways taking. Now I am here, what thou wilt do with me None of my books will fliow : I reade, and figh, and wifti I were a tree ; For fure then I fliould grow * An image taken from the bowling-green. So Donne, fpeaking of little fins leading a man to greater : *' it is impoffible to say where a bowl may lie, that is let fall down a hill, though it be let never lb gently out of the hand." — Serm. cliii. 1* 42 Herbert's poems. To fruit or (hade : at leaf]: fome bird would truft Her houfhold to me, and I fhould be iuft. Yet, though thou troublelt me, I muft be meek j In weaknefle muft be ftout. Well, I will change the fervice, and go feek Some other mafter out. Ah my deare God ! though I am clean forgot, Let me not love thee, if 1 love thee not. Repentance. LORD, I confeiTe my finne is great ; Great is my fmne. Oh ! gently treat With thy quick flow'r, thy momentarie bloom j Whofe life ftiil preffing Is one undrefling, A fteadie aiming at a tombe. Mans age is two houres work, or three ; Each day doth round about us fee. Thus are we to delights : but we are all To forrov/s old, Iflifebetold From what life feeleth, Adams fall. O let thy,height of mercie then CompaiTionate fhort-breatlied men, Cut me not off for my moft foul tranfgreflion : I do confefle My fooliilmefTe ; My God, accept of my confeflion. Ttlii CHURCH. 43 Sweeten at length this bitter bowl, Which thou haft pour'd into my foul ; Thy wormwood turn to health, windes to fair weather : For if thou ftay, I and this day, As we did rife, we die together. When thou for fmne rebukeft man. Forthwith he waxeth v/o and wan : BitternelTe fills our bowels ; all our hearts Pine, and decay. And drop away, And Carrie with them th' other parts. But thou wilt fmne and grief deftroy; That fo the broken bones may joy,* And tune together in a well-fet fong. Full of his praifes Who dead men raifes. Fractures well cur'd make us more ftrong. Faith. LORD, how couldft thou fo much appeafe Thy wrath for fmne, as when mans fight was dimme, And could fee little, to regard his eafe And bring by Faith all things to him ? * " Thou (halt make me hear of joy and gladnefs, that the bones which thou haft broken may rejoice." — Psa. li. 9. 44 Herbert's poems. Hungrle I was, and had no meat : I did conceit a moft delicious feaft ; I had it ftraight, and did as truly eat, As ever did a welcome gueft. There is a rare outlandifh root. Which when I could not get, I thought it here : That apprehenfion cur'd fo well my foot, That I can walk to heav'n well neare. I owed thoufands and much more : I did believe that I did nothing owe. And liv'd accordingly; my creditor Beleeves fo too, and lets me go. Faith makes me any thing, or all That I beleeve is in the facred ftorie : And where fmne placeth me in Adams fall, Faith fets me higher in his glorie. If I go lower in the book. What can be lower than the common manger ? Faith puts me there with him, who fweetly took Our flefh and frailtie, death and danger. If blifTe had lien in art or ilrength. None but the wife or ftrong had gained it : Where now by Faith all arms are of a length -, One fize doth all conditions fit. A peafant may beleeve as much As a great Clerk, and reach the higheft ftature. Thus doft thou make proud knowledge bend and crouch, While grace fills up uneven nature. When creatures had no reall light Inherent in them, thou didft make the funne, Impute a luftre, and allow them bright : And in this ftiew, what Chrift hath done. THE CHURCH. 45 That which before was darkned clean With bufhie groves, pricking the lookers eie, Vanifht away, when Faith did change the fcene : And then appear'd a glorious fk.ie. What though my bodie run to duft ? Faith cleaves unto it, counting ev'ry grain, With an exa(5l and moft particular truft, Referving all for flefli again. Pray er. PRAYER, the Churches banquet. Angels age, Gods breath in man returning to his birth, The foul in paraphrafe, hear't in pilgrimage, The Chriftian plummet founding heav'n and earth ; Engine againft th' Almightie, fmner's towre, Reverfed thunder, Chrift-fide-piercing fpear, The fix-daies-world tranfpofmg in an houre, A kinde of tune, which all things heare and fear; Softnefle, and peace, and joy, and love, and blifle, Exalted Manna, gladnefTe of the beft. Heaven in ordinarie, man well dreft. The milkie way, the bird of Paradife, Church-bels beyond the ftars heard, the fouls bloud. The land of fpices, fomething underftood. The Holy Communion. NOT in rich furniture, or fine array. Nor in a wedge of gold. Thou, who from me waft fold, To me doft now thyfelf convey ; For fo thou fhould'ft without me ftill have been. Leaving within me finne : 46 HErvBEiir's poems. But by the way of nourifhment and ftrength, Thou creep'ft into my breaft ; Making thy way my reft, And thy Iniali quantities my length ; Which fpread their forces into every part, JVIeeting finnes force and art. Yet can thefe not get over to my foul, •Leaping the wall that parts Our fouls and flefhly hearts ; But as th' outworks, they may controll My rebel-flefli, and carr)ang thy name, Affright both fmne and fiiame. Onely thy grace, whith with thefe elements comes, Knoweth the ready way, And hath the privie key, Op'ning the fouls moft fubtile* rooms : While thofe to fpirits refin'd, at doore attend Defpatches from their friend. Give me my captive foul, or take My body alfo thither. Another lift like this will make Them both to be together. Before that fmne turn'd flefh to ftone, And all our lump to leaven ; A fervent figh might well have blown Our innocent earth to heaven. For fure when Adam did not know To fmne, or fmne to fmother ; He might to heav'n from Paradife go. As from one room t' another. * The moft fine, delicate, or retired feelings. THE CHURCH. 47 Thou haft reftor'd us to this eafe By this thy heav'nly bloud. Which I can go to, when I pleafe, And leave th' earth to their food. Antiphon.* Cho. T ET all the world in ev'ry corner fing, I J My God and King. Fers. The heav'ns are not too high, His praife may thither flie : The earth is not to low, His praifes there may grow. Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner fmg. My God and King. p'ers. The church with pfalms muft fhout, No doore can keep them out : But above all, the heart Muft bear the longeft part. Cho. Let all the world in ev'ry corner fmg. My God and King. Love. IMMORTALL Love, authour of this great frame. Sprung from that beautie which can never fade ; How hath man parcel'd out thy glorious name, And thrown it on that duft which thou haft made. * The Chant, or finging of a choir in church ; in which ftrain anfwers drain. 48 Herbert's poems. While mortall love doth all the title gain ! Which fiding with invention, they together Bear all the fway, pofTeffing heart and brain, (Thy workmanfliip) and give thee fliare in neither. Wit fancies beautie, beautie raifeth wit : The world is theirs ; they two play out the game, Thou ftanding by : and though thy glorious name Wrought our deliverance from th' infernall pit, Who fings thy praife ? onely a fkarf or glove Doth warm our hands, and make them write of love. II. IMMORTALL Heat, O let thy greater flame Attract the lefTer to it : let thofe fires Which fhall confume the world, firft make it tame. And kindle in our hearts fuch true defires. As may confume our lufts, and make thee way. Then fhall our hearts pant thee ; then fhall our All her invention on thine Altar lay, [brain And there in hymnes fend back thy fire again : Our eies fhall fee thee, which before faw dufl ; Dufl blown by wit, till that they both were blinde : Thou fhalt recover all thy gods in kinde. Who wert difTeized* by ufurping lufl : All knees fhall bow to thee j all wits fhall rife, And praife him who did mike and mend our eies. Difpofrefled. THE CHURCH. ^g The Temper. T yOW fhould I praife thee, Lord ! how ftiould J[ \ my rymes Gladly engrave thy love in fteel, If what my foul doth feel fometimes, My foul might ever feel ! Although there were fome fourtie heav'ns or more, Sometimes I peere* above them all ; Sometimes I hardly reach a fcore. Sometimes to hell I fall. O rack me not to fuch a vaft extent ; Thofe diftances belong to thee : The world's too little for thy tent, A grave too big for me. Wilt thou meet arms with man, that thou dofl ftretch A crumme of duft from heav'n to hell ? Will great God meafure with a wretch ? Shall he thy ftature fpell ? O let me, when thy roof my foul hath hid, O let me rooft and neftle there : Then of a fmner thou art rid. And I of hope and fear. Yet take thy way; for fure thy way is beft : Stretch or contract me thy poore debter : This is but tuning of my breaft. To make the mufick better. * And hell itfelf will pafs away, And leave her dolorous manfions to the peering day." Milton : Ode on Nativity, 140, 8 50 Herbert's poems. Whether I flie with angels, fall with duft, Thy hands made both, and I am there. Thy power and love, my love and truft, Make one place everywhere. The Temper. T cannot be. Where is that mightie joy, Which juft now took up all my heart ? Lord ! if thou muft needs ufe thy dart, Save that, and me ; or fm for both deftroy The grofler world ftands to thy word and art ; But thy diviner world of grace Thou fuddenly doft raife and race,t And every day a new Creatour art. O fix thy chair of grace, that all my powers May alfo fix their reverence : For when thou doft depart from hence, They grow unruly, and fit in thy bowers. Scatter, or binde them all to bend to thee : Though elements change, and heaven move ; Let not thy higher Court remove, But keep a ftanding Majeftie in me. * Lord Herbert of Cherbury tells us that the only fault of his brother George was a quick and pafTionate temper. •}■ Set out. THE CHURCH, 5I Jordan. WHO fayes that fidions onely and falfe hair Become a verfe ? Is there in truth no beautie ? Is all good ftruClure in a winding flair ? May no lines paffe, except they do their dutie Not to a true, but painted chair ? Is it not verfe, except enchanted groves And fudden arbours fliadow coarle-fpunne lines ? Muft purling ftreams refrefti a lover's loves ? Mult all be vail'd, while he that reades, divines. Catching the fenfe at tv/o removes ? Shepherds are honeft people let them fmg : Riddle who lift, for me, and pull for Prime. f I envie no mans nightingale or fpring ; Nor let them punifh me with lofs of ryme, Who plainly fay. My God, My King. Employment, IF as a flowre doth fpfead and die. Thou wouldft extend me to fome good, Before I were bv frofts extremitie Nipt in the bud ; The fweetnelTe and the praife were thine ; But the extenfion and the room. Which in thy garland I fhould fill, were mine At thy great doom. * Donne, in his fecond fatire, fpeaks of " Maids pulling prime,' but Nares was unable to explain the phrafe. E 2 52 HERBERT'S POEMS. For as thou doll: impart thy grace, The greater fhall our glorie be. The meafure of our joyes is in this place, The ftuffe with thee. Let me not languifh then, and fpend A Hfe as barren to thy praife As is the dull, to which that Yife doth tend, But with delaies. All things are bufie ; only I Neither bring hony with the bees, Nor flowres to make that, nor the hufbandrie To water thefe. I am no link of thy great chain. But all my companie is a weed. Lord, place me in thy confort j give one ftrain To my poore reed. The Holy Scriptures. PART I. OH Book ! infinite fweetnefTe ! let my heart Suck ev'ry letter, and a hony gain. Precious for any grief in any part ; To cleare the breaft, to molline all pain. Thou art all health, health thriving, till it make A full eternitie : thou art a mane Of ftrange delights, where we may wilh and take. Ladies, look here ; this is the thankfull glafle. THE CHURCH. 53 That mends the lookers eyes : this is the well That waftes what it fhows. Who can indeare Thy praife too much ? thou art heav'ns Lidger* here. Working againft the ftates of death and hell. Thou art joyes handfell :f heav'n lies flat in thee, Subje6l to ev'ry mounters bended knee. PART II. OH that I knew how all thy lights combine. And the configurations of their glorie ! Seeing not only how each verfe doth fhine. But all the conftellations of the ftorie. This verfe marks that, and both do make a motion Unto a third, that ten leaves ofF doth lie : Then as difperfed herbs do match % a potion, Thefe three make up fome Chriftians dellinie. Such are thy fecrets, which my life makes good. And comments on thee : for in ev'ry thing Thy words do finde me out, and parallels bring, And in another make me underflood. Starres are poore books, and oftentimes do mifle This book of ftarres lights to eternall bliiTe. * Leaguer, or confederate. f An earneft of fomething to follow. j All the editions read watch, which is evidently wrong j match feems to make the line intelligible ; the fcattered herbs brought together from different places compoie or make up the potion, or medicinal drink. 8* 54 Herbert's poems. Whitfunday. LISTEN fweet Dove unto my fong, And fpread thy golden wings in mej Hatching my tender heart fo long, Till it get wing, and flie away with thee. Where is that fire which once defcended On thy Apoftles ? thou didft then Keep open houfe, richly attended, ^ Feafting ail comers by twelve chofen men. Such glorious gifts thou didft beftow, That th' earth did like a heav'n appeare: The ftarres were coming down to know If they might mend their wages, and ferve here. The funne, which once did fhine alone. Hung down his head, and wifht for night, When he beheld twelve funnes for one Going about the world, and giving light. But fmce thofe pipes of gold, which brought That cordiall water to our ground, Were cut and martyr'd by the fault Of thofe who did themfeives through their fide wound Thou fhutt'ft the doore, and keep'ft within; Scarce a good joy creeps through the chink: And if the braves of conqu'ring fmne Did not excite thee, we fhould v/hoUy fmk. THE CHURCH PORCH. 55 Lord, though we change, thou art the fame; The fame fweet God of love and light: Reflore this day, for thy great name, Unto his ancient and miraculous right. Grace. MY ftock lies dead, and no Increafe Doth my dull hufbandrie improve O let thy graces without ceafe Drop from above! If ftill the funne iliould hide his face, Thy houfe would but a dungeon prove, Thy works nights captives ; O let grace Drop from above ! The dew doth ev'ry morning fall ; And fhall the dew outftrip thy dove ? The dew, for which graiTe cannot call, Drop from above. Death is ftill working like a mole. And digs my grave at each remove : Let grace v/ork too, and on my fcul Drop from above. Sinne is ftill hammering my heart Unto a hardnefle, void of love : Let fuppling grace, to crofle his art, Drop from above. 56 O come ! for thoii doft know the way. Or if to me thou wilt not move, Remove me, where I need not fay — Drop from above. Praife. To write a verfe or tv/o, is all the praife, That I can raife : Mend my eftate in any wayes. Thou fhalt have more, I go to Church ; help me to wings, and I Will thither flie ; Or, if I mount unto the fkie, I will do more. Man is all weaknefle ; there is no fuch thing As Prince or King : His arm is fhort ; yet with a fling He may do more. A herb deftillM, and drunk, may dwell next doore, On the fame floore, To a brave foul : Exalt the poore. They can do more. O raife me then ! poore bees, that work all day, Sting my delay. Who have a work, as well as they, And much, much more. THE CHURCH. 57 Affliaion. KILL me not ev'ry day, Thou Lord of life ; fince thy one death for me Is more than all my deaths can be, Though I in broken pay Die over each hour of Methufalems ftay. If all mens tears were let Into one common fewer, fea, and brine ; What v/ere they all, compared to thine ? Wherein if they were fet. They would difcolour thy moft bloudy fweat. Thou art my grief alone. Thou Lord conceal it not : and as thou art All my delight, fo all my fmart : Thy croiTe took up in one, By way of impreft, all my future mone. I Mattens.* CANNOT ope mine eyes, But thou art ready there to catch My morning-foul and facrifice : Then we muft needs for that day make a match. My God, what is a heart ? Silver, or gold, or precious ftone. Or ftarre, or rainbow, or a part Of all thefe things, or all of them in one f * Morning worfhip. 5^ Herbert's poems. My God, what is a heart, That thou ihouldft it fo eye, and woo, Powring upon it all thy art, As if that thou hadft nothing els to do ? Indeed man's whole eftate Amounts (and richly) to ferve thee : He did not heav'n and earth create. Yet ftudies them, not him by whom they be. Teach me thy love to knov/; That this new light, which now I fee. May both the work and workman fhow: Then by a funne-beam I will climb to thee. Sinne, OTHAT I could fmne once fee ! We paint the devil foul, yet he Hath fome good in him, all agree. Sinne is flat oppohte to th' Almighty, feeing It wants the good of vertue, and of being. But God more care of us hath had, If apparitions make us fad. By fight of finne we fhould grow mad. Yet as in lleep we fee foul death, and live ; So devils are our fmnes in profpe6live B' THE CHURCH. 59 Even-fong. iLEST be the God of love, Who gave me eyes, and light, and power this day. Both to be bufie, and to play. But much more bleft be God above, Who gave me fight alone. Which to himfelf he did denie : For v/hen he fees my v^aies, I dy; But I have got his fonne, and he hath none. What have I brought thee home For this thy love ? have I dil'charged the debt. Which this dayes favour did beget ? I ranne ; but all I brought, was fome.* Thy diet, care, and coft Do end in bubbles, balls of winde j Of winde to thee whom I have croft. But balls of wilde-fire to my troubled minde. Yet ftill thou goeft on, And now with darknelTe clofeft wearie eyes, Saying to man. It doth fuffice : Henceforth repofe ; your work is done. Thus in thy Ebony box Thou dofl inclofe us, till the day Put our amendment in our way. And give new wheels to our diforder'd clocks. * Foam. 6o Herbert's poems. I mufe, which fhows more love, The day or night ; that is the gale, this th' harbour ; That is the walk, and this the arbour j Or that the garden, this the grove. My God, thou art all love. Not one poore minute Tcapes thy breaft, But brings a favour from above ; And in this love, more than in bed, I reft. Church-monuments. WHILE that my foul repairs to her devotion, Here I intombe my flefh, that it betimes May take acquaintance of this heap ofduft ; To which the blaft of deaths inceflant motion, Fed with the exhalation of our crimes. Drives all at laft. Therefore I gladly truft My bodie to this fchool, that it may learn To fpell his elements, and iinde his birth Written in duftie heraldrie and lines ; Which dilTolution fure doth beft difcern. Comparing duft with duft, and earth with earth. Thefe laugh at Jeat,* and Marble put for fignes. To fever the good fellowfhip of duft. And fpoil the meeting. What ftiall point out them. When they ftiall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat To kifle thofe heaps, which now they have in truft ? Deare flefti, while I do pray, learn here thy ftemme And true defcent ; that when thou ftialt grow fat, * Jet. THE CHURCH. 6f And wanton in thy cravings, thou mayft know. That flefh is but the glafle, which holds the duft That meafures all our time ; which alfo (hall Be crumbled into duft. Mark here below. How tame thefe afhes are, how free from luft. That thou mayft fit thyfelf againft thy fall. Church Mufick. SWEETEST of fweets, I thank you : when difplea- fure Did through my bodie wound my minde. You took me thence ; and in your houfe of pleafure • A daintie lodging me ailign'd. Now I in you without a bodie move. Rifing and falling with your wings : We both together fweetly live and love. Yet fay fometimes, God help poore Kings. Comfort, 'He die ; for if you pofle from me, Sure I fhall do fo, and much more : Buti f I travell in your companie. You know the way to heavens doore. Church-lock and key. I KNOW it is my fmne, which locks thine eares, And bindes thy hands ! Out-crying my requefls, drowning my tears ; Or elfe the chilnefTe of my faint demands. 9 62 Herbert's poems. But as cold hands are angrie with the fire, And mend it ftill ; So I do lay the want of my defire. Not on my finnes, or coldnefTe, hut thy will. Yet heare, O God, onely for his blouds fake, Which pleads for me : For though finnes plead too, yet like ftones they make His blouds fweet current much more loud to be. The Church-floore. TI^ARK you the floore ? that fquare and fpeckled Which looks fo firm and ftrong, Is Patience : And th* other black ana grave, wherewith each one Is checkered all along, Humilitie : The gentle rifing, which on either hand Leads to the Qiiire above. Is Confidence : But the fweet cement, which in one fure band Ties the whole frame, is Love And Charitie. Hither fometimes Sinne fi:eals, and ftains The marbles neat and curious veins : But all is cleanfed when the marble weeps. THE CHURCH. 63 Sometimes Death, puffing at the doore, Blows all the duft about the floore : But while he thinks to fpoil the room, he fweeps. Bleft be the Architect, whofe art Could build fo ftrons: in a weak heart. The Windows. LORD, how can man preach thy eternall word? He is a brittle crazie glaiTe : Yet in thy temple thou doft him afford This glorious and tranfcendent place. To be a window, through thy grace. But when thou doft anneal* in glafle thy ftorie, Making thy life to fhine within The holy Preachers, then the light and glorie More rev'rend grows, and more doth win ; Which elfe fhows watrifh, bleak, and thin. Do6lrine and Hfe, colours and light, in one When they combine and mingle, bring A ftrong regard and aw : but fpeech alone Doth vanifh like a flaring thing, And in the eare, not confcience ring. Trinitie Sunday. LORD, who haft form'd me out of mud. And haft redeem'd me throu2;h thy bloud, And fandiifi'd me to do good ; Annealing is heating glafs, that the colours may be fixed. 64 Herbert's poems. Purge all my finnes done heretofore 5 For I confefTe my heavie fcore, And 1 will ftrive to fmne no more. Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charitie ; That I may runne, rife, reft with thee. Content. PEACE mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep Within the walls of your own breaft. Who cannot on his own bed fweetly fleep, Can on anothers hardly reft. Gad not abroad at ev'ry queft* and call Of an untrained hope or paffion. To court each place or fortune that doth fall, Is wantonnefle in contemplation. Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie, Content and warm t' it felf alone : But when it would appeare to others eye, Without a knock it never ftione. Give me the pliant mind, whofe gentle meafure Complies and fuits with all eftat^s j Which can let loofe to a crown, and yet with pleafure Take up within a cloifters gates. * Search, or act of feeking. Milton ufes the word in the Arcades : ** Fair filver-bufkin'd Nymphs as great and good j I know this * queft' oi yours." THE CHURCH. 65 This foul doth fpan the world, and hang content From either pole unto the centre : Where in each room of the well-furnifht tent He lies warm, and without adventure. The brags of life are but a nine dayes wonder : And after death the fumes* that fpring From private bodies, make as big a thunder As thofe which rife from a huge King. Onely thy Chronicle is loft : and yet Better by worms be all once fpent. Than to have hellifh moths ftill gnaw and fret Thy name in books, which may not rent. When all thy deeds, whofe brunt thou feel'ft alone, Are chaw'd by others pens and tongue, And as their wit is, their digeftion. Thy nouriflit fame is weak or ftrong. Then ceafe difcourfing foul, till thine own ground j Do not thyfelf or friends importune. He that by feeking hath himfelf once found, Hath ever found a happie fortune. The Quidditie.t MY God, a verfe is not a crown ; No point of honour, or gay fuit. No hawk, or banquet, or renown, Nor a good fword, nor yet a lute : * Vapo'Ts. f Originally a fchool term for the nature 01 efTence of a thing } but often ufed as a fynonyme for a quip or quirk. 9* 66 Herbert's poems. It cannot vault, or dance, or play j It never was in France or Spain 5 Nor can it entertain the day With a great flable or demain.* It is no office, art, or news ; Nor the Exchange, or bufie Hall :, But it is that which while I ufe, I am with thee, and Mofl take all. Humilitie. I SAW the Vertues fitting hand in hand In fev'rall ranks upon an azure throne, \v here all the beafts and fowls, by their command, Prefented tokens of fubmiilion. Humilitie, who fat the loweft there To execute their call, When by the beafts the prefents tendred were, Gave them about to all. The angrie Lion did prefent his paw, Which by confent was giv'n to Manfuetude.f The fearful Hare her eares, which by their law Humilitie did reach to Fortitude. The jealous Turkic brought his corall-chain, That went to Temperance. On Juftice was beftow'd the Foxes brain, Kill'd in the way by chance. • Domain. f- Gentlenefs. THE CHURCH. 67 At length the Crow, bringing the Peacocks plume, (For he would not) as they beheld the grace Of that brave gift, each one began to fume, And challenge it, as proper to his place. Till they fell out ; which when the beafts efpied, They leapt upon the throne ; And if the Fox had liv'd to rule their fide. They had depof'd each one. Humilltie, who held the plume, at this Did weep fo faft, that the tears trickling down SpoilM all the train : then faying, Here it is For which ye wrangle, made them turn their frown Againft the beafts : fo joyntiy bandying,* # ♦ They drive them foon away; Arfd then amerc'df them, double gifts to bring At the next Sellion-day. Frailtie. LORD, in my filence how do 1 defpife AVhat upon truft Is ftyled honour, riches, or fair eyes j But is fair duft ! I furname them guilded clay, Deare earth, fine graffe or hayj In all, I think my foot doth ever tread Upon their head. Contending together. f To punilli by fine. F 2 68 Herbert's poems. But when I view abroad both Regiments, The worlds, and thine ; Thine clad with fimpleneiTe, and fad events ; The other fine. Full of glorie and gay weeds. Brave language, braver deeds : That which was dufl before, doth quickly rife, And prick mine eyes. O brook not this, left if what even now My foot did tread. Affront thofe joyes, wherewith thou didft endow. And long fmce wed My poore foul, ev'n fick of love; It may f Babel prove, ' Commodious to conquer, heav'n and thee Planted in me. Conftancie.* WHO is the honeft man ? He that doth ftill and ftrongly good purfue. To God, his neighbour, and himfelf moft true : • Whom neither force nor fawning can Unpinne, or wrench from giving all their due. Whofe honeftie is not So loofe or eafie, that a ruffling winde Can blow away, or glittering look it blinde : Who rides his fuie and even trot. While the world now rides by, now lags behinde. * See the fifteenth Pfalm. THE CIiyRCK. 69 Who, when great trials come., Nor feeks, nor fhunnes them ; but doth calmly ftay Till he the thing and the example weigh : All being brought into a fumme, What place or peribn calls for, he doth pay. Whom none can work or wooe, To ufe in any thing a trick or Height; For above all things he abhorres deceit : His words and works and falhion too All of a piece, and all are clcare and ftraight. Who never melts or thaws At clofe tentations :* when the day is done, His goodnefTe fets not, but in dark can runne The funne to others wi iteth laws. And is their vertue ; Vertue is his Sunne. Who, when he is to treat With fick folks, women, thofe whom paffions fway. Allows for that, and keeps his conftant way : ^ Whom others faults do not defeat; But though men fail him, yet his part doth play. Whom nothing can procure. When the wide world runnes bias, from his will To writhe his limbes, and fhare, not mend the ill. This is the Mark-man, fafe and fure, Who ftill is right, and prayes to be fo ftill. Trials or temptations. 70 Herbert's poems. AfflicSion. MY heart did heave, and there came forth, O God! By that I knew that thou waft in the grief, 'I'o guide and govern it to my rehef, Making a fcepter of the rod : Hadft thou not had thy part, Sure the unruly figh had broke my heart. But fmce thy breath gave me both Hfe and fhape, Thou knowft my talhes ;* and when there's aflign'd So much breath to a figh, what's then behinde ? Or if fome yeares with it efcape, The fighf then onely is A gale to bring me fooner to my blifle. Thy life on earth was grief, and thou art ftill Conftant unto it, making it to be A point of honour, now to grieve in me, And in thy members fufFer ill. They who lament one crofle. Thou dying dayly, praife thee to thy lolTe. * A tally is a flick, cut to agree in fliape with another (lick, for the purpoi'e of keeping accounts. Herbert remembered the Pialmifl's prayer, " So teach us to number our days," &c. The taJiies of a life are the reckonings kept of it. f Referring to the popular belief that the flrength is impaired by fighing , fb Shakefpere (Hamlet, Act iv. :) " And then this fhcmld is like a ipendthrift figh, That hurts by eafing." B THE CHURCH. ^f The Starre. RIGHT fpark, fliot from a brighter place, Where beams furround. my Saviours race, Canft thou be any where So well as there ? Yet, if thou wilt from thence depart, Take a bad lodging in my heart ; For thou canil make a debter, And make it better. Firft with thy fire-work burn to duft Folly, and worfe than folly, lull : Then with thy light refine, And make it fhine. So difengag'd from finne and fickneiTc, Touch it with thy celeftial quicknefle, That it may hang and move After thy love. Then with our trinitie of light. Motion, and heat, let's take our flight Unto the place where thou Before didfl: bow. Get me a {landing there, and place Among the beams, which crown the face Of him, who dy'd to part Sinne and my heart : That fo among the reft I may Glitter, and curie, and winde as they: That winding is their fafhion Of adoration. f2 Herbert's poems. Sure thou wilt joy, by gaining me To flie home like a laden bee Unto that hive of beams. And garland -ft reams Sunday, o DAY moft calm, moft bright. The fruit of this, the next worlds bud, Th' indorfement of fupreme delight, Writ by a friend, and with his bloud ; The couch of time ; cares balm and bay; The week were dark, but for thy light : Thy torch doth Ihow the way. The other dayes and thou Make up one man ; whofe face thou art. Knocking at heaven with thy brow : The worky-daies are the back-part ; The burden of the week lies there. Making the whole to ftoup and bow. Till thy releafe appeare. Man had ftraight forward gone To endlefte death ; but thou doft pull And turn us round to look on one. Whom, if we were not very dull. We could not choofe but look on ftill ; Since there is no place fo alone The which he doth not fill. THE CHURCH. 7.3 Sundaies the pillars are, On which heav'ns palace arched lies : The other dayes fill up the fpare And hollow room with vanities. They are the fruitfull beds and borders In Gods rich garden : that is bare Which parts their ranks and orders. The Sundaies of mans life,* Thredded together on times ftring, Make bracelets to adorn the wife Of the eternall glorious King. On Sunday heavens gate ftands ope ; Bleifings are plentifull and rife, More plentifull than hope. This day my Saviour rofe, And did inclofe this light for his : That, as each beaft his manger knows, Man might not of his fodder miffe. Chrill: hath took in this piece of ground. And made a garden there for thofe Who want herbs for their wound. * " The Sunday before his death, he rofe fuddenly from his bed, or couch, called for one of his inftruments, took it into his hand, and laid : * My God, my God, My mufic fliall find thee, And every thing Shall have his attribute to fmg. and having tuned it, he played and fung, * The Sundays of Man's Life/ &c. — Isaak Walton. 10 1^4 Herbert's poems. The reil of our Creation Our great Redeemer did remove With the fame fhake, which at his paffion Did th' earth and all things with it move. As Samfon bore the doores away, Chrifl-s hands, though nail'd, wrought our falvation, And did unhinge that day. The brightneffe of that day We fullied by our foul offence : Wherefore that robe we cafl away, Having a new at his expenfe, Whofe drops of bloud paid the full price. That was requir'd to make us gay. And fit for Paradife. Thou art a day of mirth : And where the week-dayes trail on ground, Thy flight is higher, as thy birth : O let me take thee at the bound, Leaping with thee from fcv'n to fev'n. Till that we both, being toiT'd from earth, Flie hand in hand to heav'n! Avarice, MONEY thou bane of blifTe, and fource of wo. Whence com'ft thou, that thou art fo frefh and fine ? I know thy parentage is bafe and low : Man found thee poore and dirtie in a mine. THE church:, 75 Surely thou didft ib little contribute To this great kingdome, which thou now haft got, That he was fain, when thou wert deltitute, To digge thee out of thy dark cave and grot. Then forcing thee, by lire he made thee bright : Nay, thou haft got the face of man ; for we Have with our ftamp and feal tranfferred our right ; Thou art the man, and man but drofle to thee. Man calleth thee his wealth, who made thee rich j And while he digs out thee, falls in the ditch. Ana- {IV^^^? gram. H OW well her name an Army doth prefent. In whom the Lord of hofts did pitch his tent ! To all Angels and Saints. OH glorious fpirits, who after all your bands See the fmooth face of God, without a frown, Or ftrict commands ; Where ev'ry one is king, and hath his crown, If not upon his head, yet in his hands : Not out of envie or malicioufnefle Do I forbear to crave your fpeciall aid. I would addrefTe My vows to thee moft gladly, blefted Maid^ And Mother of My God, in my diftrefle : * A play upon the letters of a name tranfpofed. 76 Herbert's poems. Thou art the holy mine, whence came the gold, The great reftorative for all decay- In young and old ; Thou art the cabinet where the Jewell lay : Chiefly to thee would I my foul unfold. But now, (alas !) I dare not ; for our King, Whom we do all joyntly adore and praife, Bids no fuch thing : And where his pleafure no injundion layes, ('Tis your own cafe) ye never move a wing. All worfhip is prerogative, and a flower Of his rich crown, from whom lyes no appeal At the laft houre . Therefore we dare not from his garland ileal, To make a pofie for inferiour power. Although then others court you, if ye know What's done on earth, we fhall not fare the worfe, Who do not fo ; Since we are ever ready to difburfe,* If any one our Mailers hand can fhow. Employment HE that is weary, let him fit. My foul would ftirre And trade in courtefies and wit. Quitting the furre To cold complexions needing it. * To fpend, or lay out. THE CHURCH. JJ Man is no ftarre, but a quick coal Of mortal! fire : Who blows it not, nor doth controll A faint defire, Lets his own afhes choke his foul. When th' elements did for place conteft With him, whofe will Ordain'd the higheft to be beft : The earth fat ftill, And by the others is oppreil. Life is a bufmeffe, not good cheer j Ever in warres. The funne Hill fhineth there or here, Whereas the ftarres Watch an advantage to appeare. Oh that I were an Orenge-tree, That bufie plant ! Then fhould I ever laden be. And never want Some fruit for him that drefTed me. But we are ftill too young or old j The man is gone, Before we do our wares unfold : So we freeze on. Until the grave increafe our cold 10* 78 HERBERT*S POEMS. Deniall. WHEN my devotions couid not pierce Thy filent eares ; Then was my heart broken, as v/as my verfe ; My breaft was full of fears And diforder, My bent thoughts, like a brittle bow, Did flie afunder : Each took his way ; fome would to pleafures go. Some to the warres and thunder Of alarms. As good go any where, they fay, As to benumme Both knees and heart, in crying night and day, Come, come, my God, O come, But no hearing. O thou that fhouidft give dull a tongue To crie to thee. And then not hear it crying ! all day long My heart was in my knee. But no hearing. Therefore my foul lay out of fight, Untun'd, unftrung : My feeble fpirit unable to look right. Like a nipt blolTome, hung Difcontented. THE CHURCH. 79 O cheer and tune my heartlefTe breaft, Deferre no time ; 'That fo thy favours granting my requeft, They and my minde may chime, And mend my ryme. Chriftmas. ALL after pleafures as I rid one day My horfe and 1, both tir'd, bodie and minde, Vvith full crie of affections, quite aftray ; I took up in the next inne I could finde. There when I came, v/hom found I but my deare. My deareft Lord, expecting till the grief Of pleafures brought me to him, readie there To be all pafTengers moil: fweet relief? O Thou, whofe glorious, yet contracted light. Wrapt in nights mantle, ftole into a manger ; Since my dark foul and brutilli is thy right,. To Man of all beads be not thou a llranger : Furnilh and deck my foul, that thou mayft have A better lodging, then a rack or grave. THE flicpherds fmg ; and ihall I filent be ? My God, no hymne for thee ? My foul's a fhepherd too : a flock it feeds Of thoughts, and words, and deeds. The pafture is thy word ; the ftreams thy grace Enriching all the place. 8o Herbert's poems. Shepherd and flock {hall fing, and all my powers Out-fing the day-light houres. Then we will chide the funne for letting night Take up his place and right : We fing one common Lord ; wherefore he fhould Himfelf the candle hold. I will go fearching, till I finde a funne Shall ftay, till we have done ; A wilhng fhiner, that fhall fhine as gladly As froft-nipt funnes look fadly. Then we will fmg, and fhine all our own day, And one another pay : His beams fhall cheer my breaft, and both fo twine, Till ev*n his beams fing, and my mufic fhine. UngratefulneiTe. # LORD, with what bountie and rare clemencie Haft thou redeem'd us from the grave ! If thou hadft let us runne, Gladly had man ador'd the funne, And thought his god moft brave ; Where now we Ihall be better gods than he. Thou haft but two rare cabinets full of treafure, The Trinitie, and Incarnation ; Thou haft unlockt them both, And made them jewels to betroth The work of thy creation Unto thyfelf in everlafting pleafure. The ftatelier cabinet is the Trinitie, Whofe fparkling light accefs denies : Therefore thou doft not {how This fully to us, till death blow THE CHURCH. 8 1 The duft into our eyes ; For by that powder thou v/ilt make us fee. But all thy fweets are packt up in the other ; Thy mercies thither flock and flow ; That as the firft affrights, This may allure us with delights ; Becaufe this box we know ; For we have all of us juft fuch another. But man is clofe, referv'd, and dark to thee j When thou demandeft but a heart, He cavils inftantly. In his poore cabinet of bone Sinnes have their box apart. Defrauding thee, who gaveft two for one. Sighs and Grones. Do not ufe me Afcer my fmnes ! look not on my defert, But on thy glorie ! then thou wilt reform, And not refufe me : for thou onely art The mightie God, but I a fillie worm : O do not bruife me ; O do not urge me ! For what account can thy ill fteward make ? I have abuf 'd thy (lock, deftroy'd thy woods, Suckt all thy magazens : my head did ake. Till it found out how to confume thy goods: O do not fcourge me ! g2 Herbert's poems. O do not blind me ! I have deferv'd that an Egyptian night Should thicken all my powers ; becaufe my luft Hath ftill fow'd fig-leaves to exclude thy light: But I am frailtie, and already dull : O do not grinde me ! O do not fill me With the turn'd viall of thy bitter vi^rath ! For thou haft other veflels full of blood, A part v^hereof my Saviour empti'd hath, Ev'n unto death : fince he di'd for my good, O do not kill me ! But O reprieve me ! For thou haft life and death at thy command ; Thou art both Judge and Saviour, feaft and rod, Cordiall and Corrolive : * put not thy hand Into the bitter box ; but O my God, My God, relieve me ! The World. LOVE built a ftately houfe; where Fortune came; And fpinning phanfies, ftie vv^as heard to fay. That her fine cobwebs did fupport the frame, Whereas they were fupported by the fame : But Wifdome quickly fwept them all away. Then Pleafure came, who liking not the fafhion. Began to make Balcones,t Terraces, Till ihe had weakened all by alteration : But rev'rend laws, and many a proclamation Reformed all at length with menaces. * Whatever waftes away. f Balconies. THE CHURCH. 83 Then enter'd finne, and with that Sycomorcj Whofe leaves firft fheltred man from drought and dew, Working and winding flily evermore, The inward walls and Sommers cleft and tore : But Grace fhor'd* thefe, and cut that as it grew. Then Sinne combined with Death in a firm band. To rafe the building to the very floore : Which they efFeiled, none could them withftand ; But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand, And built a braver Palace then before. Col off. iii. 3. OUR LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST IN GOD. MY words and thoughts do both exprefTe this notion, That Life hath with the fun a double motion. The firft Is ftraight, and our diurnall f friend j The other Hid, and doth obliquely bend. One Hfe is wrapt In flefh, and tends to earth : The other winds towards Him, whofe happie birth Taught me to live here fo, That ftill one eye Should aim and ihoot at that which Is on high ; Quitting with daily labour all My pleafure. To gain at harveft an eternall Treafure. Vanitie. • THE fleet Aftronomer can bore And thread the fpheres with his quick- piercing minde : He views their ftations, walks from doore to doore, Surveys, as if he had defignM • Propped, or fupported. f Daily. 84 Herbert's poems. To make a purchafe there : he fees their dances. And knoweth long before, Both their full-ey'd afpe(5ls, and fecret glances. The nimble Diver with his fide Cuts through the working waves, that he may fetch His dearely-earned pearl, which God did hide On purpofe from the ventrous wretch ; That he might fave his life, and alfo hers, Who with exceffive pride Her own deftrucStion and his danger wears. The fubtil Chymick can deveft ^nd ftrip the creature naked, till he finde The callow* principles within their neft: There he imparts to them his minde. Admitted to their bed-chamber, before They appeare trim and dreft To ordinarie fuitours at the doore. What hath not man fought out and found, But his deare God? who yet his glorious law Embofomes in us, mellowing the ground With fhowers and frofts, with love and awj So that we need not fay, Where's this command ? Poore man ! thou fearcheft round To finde out death, but miffeft Hfe at hand. Lent. WELCOME, deare feaft of Lent : who loves not thee. He loves not Temperance, or Authoritie, But is compof 'd of paflion. * Unfeathered. THE CHURCH. 8^ The Scriptures bid us faft; the Church fays, now: Give to thy Mother what thou wouldft allow To ev'ry Corporation. The humble foul compoPd of k>ve and fear, Begins at home, and layes the burden there. When do6lrines difagree : He fayes, in things which ufe hath juftly got, I am a fcandall to the Church, and not The Church is fo to me. True Chriftians fhould be glad of an occafion To ufe their temperance, feeking no evafion, When good is feafonable ; Unleffe Authoritie, which fhould incr^afe The obligation in us, make it lefTe, And Power it felf difable. Befides the cleannefle of fweet abftinence. Quick thoughts and motions at a fmall expenfe, A face not fearing light : Whereas in fulnefle there are fluttifti fumes, Sowre exhalations, and difhoneft rheumes, Revenging the delight. Then thofe fame pendant* profits, which the fpring And Eafter intimate, enlarge the thing. And goodnelie of the deed. Neither ought other mens abufe of Lent Spoil the good ufe ; left by that argument We forfeit all our creed. Profits hanging like fruits, to be gathered in due feafon, 11 86 Herbert's poems. It's true, we cannot reach Chrifts forti'th day; Yet to go part of that religious way Is better than to reft : We cannot reach our Saviours puritie ; Yet are we bid, " Be holy ev'n as he." In both let's do our beft. Who goeth in the way which Chrift hath gone, Is much more fure to meet with him, than one That travelleth by-wayes. Perhaps my God, though he be farre before, May turn, and take me by the hand, and more, May ftrengthen my decayes. Yet, Lord, inftru6l us to improve our faft By ftarving fmne and taking fuch repaft As may our faults controU : That ev'ry man may revell at his doore, Not in his parlour ; banquetting the poore, And among thofe his foul. Vertue.* SWEET day, fo cool, fo calm, fo bright, The bridal of the earth and fkie : The dew fhall weep thy fall to night ; For thou muft die. * Pifcatoi. — " And now, fcholar ! My dire£lion for thy fifli- ing is ended with this (hower, for it has done raining. And now look about you, and fee how pleafantly that meadow looks ; nay, and the earth fmells as fweetly too. Come, let me tell you what holy Herbert fays of fuch days and fhowers as thefe j and then we will thank God that we enjoy them. ** Sweet day — fo cool, fo cahn, fo bright." Walton's Complete Angler ch. v. THE CHURCH. Sweet rofe, whofe hue angrie and brave Bids the rafti gazer wipe his eye, Thy root is ever in its grave, And thou muft die. Sweet fpring, full of fweet days and rofes, A box where fweets compacSled lie, My mufick fhows ye have your clofes, And all muft die. Onely a fweet and vertuous foul, Like feafoned timber, never gives j But though the whole world turn to coal, Then chiefly lives. The Pearl. Matt. xiii. I KNOW the wayes of learning ; both the head And pipes that feed the prefTe, and make it runne What reafon hath from nature borrowed. Or of itfelf, and like a good hufwife,* fpunne In laws and policie ; what the ftarres confpire. What willing nature fpeaks, what forc'd by fire ; Both th* old difcoveries, and the new-found feas, The ftock and furplus, caufe and hiftorie : All thefe ftand open, or I have the keyes : Yet I love thee. * Coarfe complexions And cheeks of forry grain will ferve to ply The fampler, and to teal'e the hulwife's wool. COMUS, 56. 87 88 Herbert's poems. 1 know the wayes of honour, what maintains The quick returns of courtefie and wit : In vies of favours whether partie gains, When glorie fwells the heart, and moldeth it To all exprelTions both of hand and eye. Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie. And bear the bundle, wherefoeVe it goes : How many drammes of fpirit there muft be To fell my life unto my friends or foes : Yet I love thee. I know the wayes of pleafure, the fweet ftrains, The lullings and the reliflies of it ; The proportions of hot bloud and brains ; What mirth and mufick mean ; what love and wit Have done thefe twentie hundred years, and more : I know the projects of unbridled ftore : My ftufFe is flefti, not brafTe ; my fenfes live. And grumble oft, that they have more in me Than he that curbs them, being but one to five : Yet I love thee. I know all thefe, and have them in my hand : Therefore not fealed, but with open eyes I flie to thee, and fully underftand Both the main fale, and the commodities ; And at what rate and price I have thy love ; With all the circumftances that may move ; Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wit, But thy filk twift let down from heav'n to me, Did both conduct and teach me, how by it To climb to thee. THE CHURCH. 89 Afflidion. BROKEN in pieces all afunder, Lord, hunt me not, A thing forgot, Once a poore creature, now a wonder, A wonder tortur'd in the fpace Betwixt this world and that of grace. My thoughts are all a cafe of knives. Wounding my heart With fcattered fmart ; As watering pots give flowers their lives. Nothing their furie can controll. While they do wound and prick my foul. All my attendants are at ftrife. Quitting their place Unto my face : Nothing performs the tafk of life : The elements are let loofe to fight, And while I live, trie out their right. Oh help, my God ! let not their plot Kill them and me, And alfo thee. Who art my life : diflblve the knot, As the funne fcatters by his light All the rebellions of the night. Then fhall thofe powers, which work for grief, Enter thy pay. And day by day Labour thy praife, and my relief; With "care and courage building me. Till I reach heav'n, and much more thee. 11* 90 Herbert's poems. Man. MY God, I heard this day, That none doth build a ftately habitation But he that means to dwell therein. "What houfe more ftately hath there been. Or can be, then is Man ? to whofe creation All things are in decay. For Man is ev'ry thing, And more : He is a tree, yet bears no fruit. A beaft, yet is, or ftiould be more : Reafon and fpeech we onely bring. Parrats may thank us, if they are not mute, They go upon the fcore. Man is all fymmetrie, Full of proportions, one limbe to another, And all to all the world befides : Each part may call the fartheft, brother : For head with foot hath private amitie. And both with moons and tides. Nothing hath got fo farre, But Man hath caught and kept it, as his prey. His eyes difmount the higheft ftarre : He is in little all the fphere. Herbs gladly cure our flefh, becaufe that they Finde their acquaintance there. For us the windes do blow ; The earth doth reft, heav'n move, and fountains flow. Nothing we fee, but means our good. As our delight, or as our treafure : The whole is, either our cupboard of food, Or cabinet of pleafure. THE CHURCH. Ql The ftarres have us to bed ; Night draws the curtain, which the funne withdraws : Mufick and light attend our head, All things unto our flefh are kinde In their defcent and being ; to our minde In their afcent and caufe. Each thing is full of dutie : Waters united are our navigation ; Diftinguifhed, our habitation ; Below, our drink ; above, our meat : Both are our cleanlinefTe.* Hath one fuch beautie ? Then how are all things neat ! More fervants wait on Man, Than he'l take notice of: in ev'ry path He treads down that which doth befriend him, When fickneffe makes him pale and wan. Oh mightie love ! Man is one world, and hath Another to attend him. * Mr. Coleridge lays — *' I underftand this but imperfeflly — diftinguifhed — they form an ifland ?" nia)r we not rather leek an interpretation in the firft chapter of Genefis (9. 10) ; the waters diftinguifhed, are the waters feparated from the dry land, which then appears and becomes the habitation of man ; the waters united, are the gathering together of the waters which God called leas ; below, they are our fountains and ftreams to drink ; above, they are our meat, becaufe the hulbandman waiteth for the early and the latter rain. Both are our cleanlinefs. In the verses on Lent, Herbert had fpoken of ' the cleannefs of fweet abftinence,' the gentle thoughts and emotions which it gives, and the ' face not fearing light.' Perhaps in this poem he employs cleanlinefs in the fame wide fenfe ; as expreffrng the beauty, Irelh- iiefs, purity, and delight of which water, in its many Ihapes and blelBng-s, is made the minifter to mankind." 92 HERBERT S POEMS. Since then, my God, thou haft So brave a Palace built ; O dwell in it, That it may dwell with thee at laft! Till then, afford us fo much wit ; That, as the world ferves us, we may ferve thee, And both thy fervants be. Chor. Chor. Antiph on, RAISED be the God of love. Men. Here below, Ang. And here above : Who hath dealt his mercies fo, Ang. To his friend, Men. And to his foe ; p Chor. That both grace and glorie tend Ang. Us of old. Men. And us in th' end. Chor. The great Shepherd of the fold Ang. Us did make. Men. For us was fold. Chor. He our foes in pieces brake : Ang. Him we touch ; Men. And him we take. Chor. AVherefore fmce that he is fuch, Ang. We adore. Men. And we do crouch. Chor. Lord, thy praifes fhould bee more. Men. We have none, Ang. And we no ftore. Chor. Praifed be the God alone Who hath made of two folds one. THE CHURCH* UnkindneiTe, LORD, make me coy and tender to offend : In friendfhip, firft I think, if that agree, Which I intend, Unto my friends intent and end. I would not ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. If any touch my friend, or his good name. It is my honour and my love to free His blafted fame From the leaft fpot or thought of blame I could not ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. My friend may fpit upon my curious floore : AVould he have gold ? I lend it inftantly j But let the poore. And thou within them ftarve at doore. I cannot ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. When that my friend pretendeth to a place, I quit my intereft, and leave it free : But when thy grace Sues for my heart, I thee difplace ; Nor would I ufe a friend, as I ufe Thee. Yet can a friend what thou haft done fulfill ? O write in brafs. My God upon a tree His bloud did fpill, Onely to purchafe my good-will : Yet ufe I not my foes, as I ufe thee. 03 94 herbi-rt's poems. Life. I MADE a pofie,* while the day ran by : Here will I fmell my remnant out, and tie My life within this band. But time did becken to the flowers, and they By noon moft cunningly did fteal away. And wither'd in my Wand. My hand was next to them, and then my heart ; I took, without more thinking, in good part Times gentle admonition ; Who did fo fweetly deaths fad tafte convey. Making my minde to fmell my fatall day. Yet fugring the fufpicion. Farewell, dear flowers, fweetly your time ye fpent. Fit, while ye liv'd, for fmell or ornament. And after death for cures. I follow ftraight without complaints or grief. Since if my fcent be good, I care not if It be as fhort as yours. Submiffion. BUT that thou art my wifdome. Lord, And both mine eyes are thine. My minde would be extreamly ftirr'd For mifling my defigne. * Pofie is a contra6lion of poefy j here it means a wreath, or cluftei of flowers. ^ THE CHURCH. Were it not better to beftow Some place and power on me ? Then fhould thy praifes with me grow, And fhare in my degree. But when I thus dilpute and grieve, I do refume my fight ; And pilfring what I once did give, Difleize* thee of thy right. How know I, if thou fhouldfl me raife, That I fliould then raife thee ? Perhaps great places and thy praife Do not fo well agree. Wherefore unto my gift I ftand ; I will no more advife : Onely do thou lend me a hand, Since thou haft both mine eyes. 95 Juftice. I CANNOT fkiU of thefe thy ways : Lord, thou didft make me, yet thou woundeft me: Lord, thou doft wound me, yet thou doft relieve me : Lord, thou relieveit, yet I die by thee : Lord, thou doft kill me, yet thou doft reprieve me. * Deprive. 96 Herbert's poems. But when I mark my life and praife, Thy juftice me moft fitly payes : For, I do praife thee, yet I praife thee not : My prayers mean thee, yet my prayers ftray : I would do well, yet finne the hand hath got : My foul doth love thee, yet it loves delay. I cannot fkill of thefe my ways. w Charms and Knots. HO reade a chapter when they rife, Shall ne*ere be troubled with ill eyeSc A poor mans rod, when thou doft ride, Is both a weapon and a guide. Who fliuts his hand, hath loft his gold ; Who opens it, hath it twice told. Who goes to bed, and doth not pray, Maketh two nights to ev'ry day. Who by afperfions throw a ftone At th' head of others, hit their own. Who looks on ground with humble eyes, Findes himfelf there, and feeks to rife. When th' hair is fweet through pride or luft. The powder doth forget tlic duft. THE CHURCH. Q7 Take one from teii) and what remains ?* Ten flill, if fermons go for gains. In fhallow waters heav'n doth fhow ! But who drinks on, to hell may go. M Affliaion. Y God, I read this day, That planted Paradife was not fo firm, As was and is thy floting Ark ; whofe ftay And anchor thou art onely, to confirm And flrengthen it in ev'ry age, When waves do rife, and tempefls rage. At firft we lived in pleafure; 'Thine own delights thou didft to us impart : When we grew wanton, thou didfl ufe difpleafure To make us thine : yet that we might not part, As we at firft did board with thee. Now thou v/ouldft tafle our miferre. There is but joy and grief; If either will convert us, we aie thine : Some Angels ufd the firft; if our relief Take up the fecond, then thy double line And fev'rall baits in either kinde Furnifh thy table to thy minde. * The meaning is that the ty-thes of the Prieft are repaid by his fervices. The thought is found in Proverbs (iii. 9, 10) : " Honour the Lord with thy fubftance, and with the firft fruits of all thine'increaie 5 lb fhall thy barns be filled with plenty, and thy orefTes fhall burft out with new wine " 12 98 Herbert's poems. Affliction then is ouis ; We are the trees, whom fhaking faftens more, While bluftring windes deftroy the wanton bowres, And ruffle all their curious knots and ftore. My God, fo temper joy and wo, That thy bright beams may tame thy bow. Mortification.* How foon doth man decay ! When clothes are taken from a cheft of fweets, To fwaddle infants, whofe young breath Scarce knows the way; Thofe clouts are little winding flieets. Which do configne and fend them unto death. When boyes go firft to bed. They ftep into their voluntarie graves ; Sleep bindes them faft ; oncly their breath Makes them not dead. Succeffive nights, like rolling waves, Convey them quickly, who are bound for death. * In this time of his decay he would often Ipeak. to this pur- pofe : " I now look back upon the pleafixres of my life paft, and fee the content I have taken in beauty, in wit, and mufic, and pleafant converfation, are now all paffed by me like a dream, or as a fhadow that returns not, and are now all become dead to me, or I to them j and I fee that as my father and generation hath done before me, fo I alfo fhall now fuddenly (with Job) make my bed alfo in the dark ; and I praife God I am prepared for it, and I praife him that I am not to learn patience now I ftand in fuch need of it, and that I have pra6tifed Mortification, and endeavoured to die daily, that I might not die eternally.'"— IsAAK Walton. THE CHURCH. 99 When youth is frank and free, And calls for mufick, while his veins do fwell, All day exchanging mirth and breath In companie ; That mufick fummons to the knell, Which {hall befriend him at the houfe of death. When man grows ftaid and wife, Getting a houfe and home, where he may move Within the circle of his breath. Schooling his eyes ; That dumb inclofure maketh love Unto the coffin, that attends his death. When age grows low and weak. Marking his grave, and thawing ev'ry year, Till all do melt, and drown his breath When he would fpeak ; A chair or litter (hows the biere, Which ftiall convey him to the houfe of death, Man, ere he is aware. Hath put together a folemnitie. And dreft his hearfe, while he has breath As yet to fpare. Yet, Lord, inftruct us fo to die That all thefe dyings may be life in death. Decay. SWEET were the days, when thou didft lodge with Lot, Struggle with Jacob, fit v/ith Gideon, Advife with Abraham, when thy power could not Encounter Mofes llrong complaints and moan : Thy words were then. Let me alone. H 2 100 HERBERT S POEMS. One might have fought and found thee prefently At fome fair oak, or bufh, or cave, or well : Is my God this way ? No, they would reply 5 He is to Sinai gone, as we heard tell : Lift, ye may heare great Aarons bell. But now thou doft thyfelf immure and clofe In fome one corner of a feeble heart : Where yet both Sinne and Satan, thy old foes, Do pinch and ftraiten thee, and u/e much art To gain thy thirds and little part. I fee the world grows old, when as the heat Of thy great love once fpread, as in an urn Doth clofet up itfelf, and ftill retreat, Cold fmne ftill forcing it, till it return And calling Juftice, all things burn. Miferie. LORD, let the Angels praife thy name. Man is a foolifti thing, a foolifli thing, tolly and Sinne play all his game. His houfe ftill burns ; and yet he ftill doth ilng, Man is but grafle. He knows it, fill the glafle. How canft thou brook his fooliftinefle ? Why, he'l not lofe a cup of drink for thee : Bid him but temper his excefte ; Not he : he knows, where he can better be As he will fwear. Then to ferve thee in fear. THE CHURCH. 101 What ftrange pollutions doth he wed, And make his own ? as if none knew, but he. No man fhall beat into his head That thou within his curtains drawn canft fee : * They are of cloth. Where never yet came moth. The beft of men, turn but thy hand For one poore minute, ftumble at a pinne : They would not have their a6lions fcann*d. Nor any forrow tell them that they fmne, Though it be fmall. And meafure not their fall. They quarrell f thee, and would give over The bargain made to ferve thee : but thy love Holds them unto it, and doth cover Their follies with the wing of thy milde Dove, Not fuiF'ring thofe Who would, to be thy foes. My God, man cannot praife thy name ; Thou art all brightneffe, perfect puritie : The funne holds down his head for fhame, Dead with eclipfes, when we fpeak of thee. How fhall infe6lion Prefume on thy perfedion ? * " Thou art about my path, and about my bed," — Pfa. cxxxix. 2. f " Quarrel " is found as a verb active in the elder poets : Ben Jonibn ('* Every Man in his Humour") has it : "And now that I had 'quarrelled' My brother purpofely.' 12* 102 HERBERT S POEMS. . As dirtie hands foul all they touch, And thofe things moft, which are moft pure and fine So our clay hearts, ev'n when we crouch To fing thy praifes, make them leffe divine. Yet either this. Or none thy portion is. Man cannot ferve thee ; let him go And ferve the fwine : there, there is his delight : He doth not like this vertue, no ; Give him his dirt to wallow in all night ; Thefe Preachers make His head to fhoot and ake. Oh foolifh man ! where are thine eyes ? How haft thou loft them in a crowd of cares ? Thou puU'ft the rug, and wilt not rife, No not to purchafe the whole pack of ftarres : There let them ftiine. Thou muft go fleep, or dine. The bird that fees a daintie bowre Made in the tree, where flie was wont to fit, Wonders and fings, but not his power Who made the arbor : this exceeds her wit. But man doth know The fpring, whence all things flow: And yet as though he knew it not, Plis knowledge winks, and lets his humours reigne: They make his life a conftant blot. And all the bloud of God to run in vain. Ay, wretch ! what verfe Can thy ftrange wayes rehearfe ? THE CHURCH. IO3 Indeed at firft Man was a treafure, A box of jewels, iliop of rarities, A ring, whofe pofie* was, My pleafure : He was a garden in a Paradife : Glorie and grace Did crown his heart and face. But finne hath fool'd him. Now he is A lump of flefli, without a foot or wing To raife him to the glimpfe of biifTe : A fick tofl''d vefTel, dafliing on each thing; Nay, his own fhelf : My God, I mean myfelf. w Jordan. HEN firft my lines of heavenly joyes made mention. Such was their lustre, they did fo excell, That I fought out quaint words, and trim invention; My thoughts began to burnifh, fprout, and fwell, Curling with metaphors a plain intention, Decking the fenfe, as if it were to fell. Thoufands of notions in my brain did runne, Off 'ring their fervice, if I were not fped: I often blotted what I had begunne ; This was not quick enough, and that was dead. Nothing could feem too rich to clothe the funne, Much lefTe thofe joyes which trample on his head. * The motto round a rins. T04 HERBERT S POEMS. As flames do work and winde, when they afcend; So did I weave myfelf into the fenfe. But while I buftled, I might hear a friend Whifper, How wide is all this long pretence! There is in love a fweetnefle ready penn'd: Copie out onely that, and fave expenfe. Prayer. OF what an eafie quick accefle, My blefled Lord, art thou ! how fuddcnly May our requefts thine eare invade ! To fhew that ftate diflikes not eafmefle. If I but hft mJne eyes, my fiait is made: Thou canft no more not heare, than thou canft die Of what fupreme almightie power Is thy great arm which fpans the eaft and weft. And tacks the centre to the fphere ! By it do all things live their meafur'd houre: We cannot afk the thing, which is not there Blaming the fhallownefle of our requeft. Of what unmeafurable love Art thou pofleft, who, when thou couldft not die, Wert fain to take our flefh and curfe, And for our fakes in perfon fmne reprove; That by deftroying that which ty'd thy purfe, Thou mightft make way for liberalitie ! Since then thefe three wait on thy throne, Eafe, Power, and Love; I value Prayer fo, That were I to leave all but one. THE CHURCH. IO5 Wealth, fame, endowments, vertues, all fhould go ; I and deare Prayer would together dwell, And quickly gain, for each inch loft, an ell. Obedience. MY God, if writings may Convey a Lordfhip any way Whither the buyer and the feller pleafe ; Let it not thee difpleafe. If this poore paper do as much as they. On it nw heart doth bleed As many lines, as there doth need To pafTe itfelf and all it hath to thee. To which I do agree. And here prefent it as my fpeciall deed.* If that hereafter Pleafure Cavill, and claim her part and meafure. As if this pafled with a refervation. Or fome fuch words in fafhon ; I here exclude the wrangler from thy treafure. O let thy facred will All thy delight in me fulfill ! Let me not think an action mine own way, But as thy love fhall fway, Refigning up the rudder to thy (kill. * Herbert's Country Parfon was to be all to his parifti, and not only a Paftor, but a Lawyer alfo, (ch. xxiii.) j here he adopts the legal expreflion for a conveyance, " I deliver this as my a6t and deed."" io6 Herbert's poems. Lord, what is man to thee, That thou fhouldft minde a rotten tree ? Yet fince thou canft not choofe but fee my a(!iions So great are thy perfe6lions. Thou mayft as well my actions guide, as fee. Befides, thy death and bloud Show'd a ftrange love to all our good : Thy forrows were in earneft ; no faint proffer, Or fuperficial offer Of what we might not take, or be withftood. Wherefore I all forego : To one word onely I say. No : Where in the deed there was an intimation Of a gift or donation, Lord, let it now by way of purcMfe go. He that will paffe his land, As I have mine, may fet his hand And heart unto this deed, when he hath read ; And make the purchafe fpread To both our goods, if he to it will ftand. How happie were my part, If fome kinde man would thruft his heart Into thefe lines ; till in heav'ns court of rolls They were by winged fouls Entred for both, farre above their defert ! Confcience. PEACE pratler, do not lowre : Not a fair look, but thou doft call it (oul Not a fweet difh, but thou doft call it fowre : Mufick to thee doth howl. THE CHURCH. IO7 By liflning to thy chatting fears I have both loft mine eyes and eares. Pratler, no more, I fay, My thoughts rhuft work, but like a noifelefle fphere. Harmonious peace muft rock them all the day: No room for pratlers there. If thou perfifteft, I will tell thee, That I have phyfick to expell thee. And the receit fhall be My Saviours bloud : whenever at his board I do but tafte it, ftraight it cleanfeth me, And leaves thee not a word ; No, not a tooth or nail to fcratch. And at my actions carp, or catch. Yet if thou talkeft ftill, Befides my phyfick, know there's fome for thee : Some wood and nails to make a flafFe, or bill, For thofe that trouble me : The bloudie crofFe of my deare Lord Is both my phyfick and my fword. Sion. LORD, with what glorie waft thou ferv'd of old, When Solomons temple ftood and flourifhed ! Where moft things were of pureft gold ; The wood was all embellifhed With flowers and carvings, myfticall and rare : All (how'd the builders, crav'd the feers care. io8 Herbert's poems. Yet all this glorie, all this pomp and ftate, Did not affect thee much, was not thy aim Something there was that fow'd debate Wherefore thou quitt'ft thy ancient claim : And now thy Architecture meets with fmne ; For all thy frame and fabrick is within. There thou art ftruggling with a peevifh heart, Which fometimes crofTeth thee, thou fometimes it The fight is hard on either part. Great God doth fight, he doth fubmit. All Solomons fea* of brafle and world of ftone Is not fo deare to thee, as one good grone. And truly brafle and ftones are heavie things, Tombes for the dead, not temples fit for thee : But grones are quick, and full of wings, And all their motions upward be ; And ever as they mount, like larks they fing : The note is fad, yet mufick for a king. Home, COME, Lord, my head doth burn, my heart is fick, While thou doft ever, ever ftay: Thy long deferrings wound me to the quick. My fpirit gafpeth night and day. O fhew thyfelf to me. Or take me up to thee ! * And he made a molten fea, ten cubits from the one brim to the other ; it was round all about." — i Kings vii. 23. THE CHURCH. IO9 How canfl thou ftay, confidering the pace The bloud did make, which thou didft wafte ? When I behold it trickhng down thy face, 1 never faw thing make fuch hafte. O fhow thyfelf to me, Or take me up to thee ! When man was loft, thy pitie lookt about,* To fee what help in th' earth or fkie : But there was none ; at leafl: no help without : The help did in thy bofom lie. O ihow thyfelf, &c. There lay thy fonne : and muft he leave that neft, That hive of fweetneiTe, to remove Thraldome from thofe, who would not at a feaft Leave one poore apple for thy love ? O fhow thyself, &c. He did, he came : O my Redeemer, deare. After all this canft thou be ftrange ? So many yeares baptiz'd, and not appeare ; As if thy love could fail or change ? O fliow thyfelf, &c. Yet if thou ftayeft ftill, why muft I ftay? My God, what is this world to me ? This world of wo ? hence, all ye clouds, away, Away; I muft get up and fee. O Ihow thyfelf, &c. * ** And 1 looked, and there was none to help ; and I wondered that there was none to uphold ; therefore mine own arm brought iaivation unto me."-— Isaiah Ixiii. 5. 13 no HERBERTS POEMS. What is this weary world ; this meat and drink. That chains us by the teeth fo faft ? What is this woman-kinde, which I can wink Into a blacknefle and diftafte ? O (how thyfelf, &c. • With one fmall figh thou gav'ft me th' other day I blafted all the joyes about me : And fcouling on them as they pin'd away Now come again, faid I, and flout me. O iTiow thyfelf, &c. Nothing but drought and dearth, but bufh and brake, Which way fo-e're I look, I fee. Some may dream merrily, but when they wake. They dreffe themfelves, and come to thee. O ftiow thyfelf, &c. We talk of harvefts ; there are no fuch things, But when we leave our corn and hay: There is no fruitfull yeare, but that which brings The laft and lov'd, though dreadfull day. O fhow thyfelf, &c. Oh loofe this frame, this knot of man untie ! That my free foul may ufe her wing, Which now is pinion'd with mortalitie, As an intangled, hamper'd thing. O Ihow thyfelf, &c. What have I left, that I fhould ftay and grone ? The moft of me to heav'n is fled : My thoughts and joyes are all packt up and gone. And for their old acquaintance plead. 1 O fhow thyfelf, &c. THE CHURCH. Ill Come, deareft Lord, pafTe not this holy feafon, My flefli and bones and joynts do pray: And ev'n my verfe, when by the ryme and reafon The word is. Stay, fays ever, Come. * O (how thy felf to me. Or take me up to thee ! I The Britifli Church. JOY, deare Mother, when I view, Thy perfect lineaments, and hue Both fweet and bright Beautie in thee takes up her place. And dates her letters from thy face. When fhe doth write. A fine afpe6l in fit aray, Neither too mean, nor yet too gay. Shows who is beft : Outlandifh looks may not compare j For all they either painted are. Or elfe undreft. She* on the hills, which wantonly Allureth all in hope to be By her preferr'd. Hath kifi'M fo long her painted flirines. That ev'n her face by kifling fhines, For her reward. • The Church of Rome. 112 HERBERTS POEMS. She* in the valley is fo fhie Of drefling, that her hair doth lie About her eares : While fhe avoids her neighbours pride, She wholly goes on th' other fide, And nothing wears. But, deareft Mother, (what thofe mifTe) The mean thy praife and glorie is. And long may be. BlefTed be God, whofe love it was To double-moat t thee with his grace, And none but thee. The Quip.^ THE merrie world did on a day With his train-bands and mates agree To meet together, where I lay. And all in fport to geere§ at me. Firft, Beautie crept into a rofe ; Which when I pluckt not, Sir, faid fhe, Tell me, 1 pray, Whofe hands are thofe ? But thou (halt anfwer. Lord, for me. Then Money came, and chinking ftill, What tune is this, poore man ? faid he : I heard in Mufick you had fkill : But thou fhalt anfwer. Lord, for me. * The Puritan. f Like a caftle with two moats, or ftreams of water round it. j A plealantry. § To feek or fearch after, and alfo to mock. THE CHURCH. II3 Then came brave Glorie puffing by In filks that v/hiftled, v/ho but he ! He fcarce allow'd me half an eie : But thou fhalt anfvver, Lord, for me. Then came quick Wit and Converfation, And he would needs a comfort be, And, to be fhort, make an oration. But thou fhalt anfwer. Lord, for me. Yet when the houre of thy defigne To anfwer thefe fine things fhall come; Speak not at large, fay, I am thine. And then they have their anf^/er home. Vanitie. POORE filly foul, whofe hope and head lies low; Whofe flat delights on earth do creep and grow : To whom the ftarres fhine not fo faire, as eyes ; Nor folid work, as falfe embroyderies ; Hark and beware, left what you now do meafurc, And write for fweet, prove a moft fowre difpleafure. O heare betimes, left thy relenting May come too late ! To purchaie heaven for repenting Is no hard rate. If fouls be made of earthly mould. Let them love gold ; If born on high. Let them unto their kindred flie : For they can never be at reft, Till they regain their ancient neft. 13* 114 Herbert's poems. Then filly foul take heed ; for earthly joy Is but a bubble, and makes thee a boy. The Dawning, AWAKE fad heart, whom forrow ever drowns : Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth, Unfold thy forehead gather'd into frowns ; Thy Saviour comes, and with him mirth : Awake, awake ; And with a thankfull heart his comforts take. But thou doft ftill lament, and pine, and crie ; And fbel his death, but not his vicSlorie. Arife fad heart ; if thou doft not withftand, Chrifts refurre6lion thine may be : Do not by hanging down break from the hand, Which as it rifeth, raifeth thee : Arife, arife ; And with his buriall-linen drie thine eyes. Chrift left his grave-clothes, that we might, when grief Draws tears, or bloud, not want an handkerchief. Jefu. JESU is in my heart, his facred name Is deeply carved there : but th' other week A great affli6tion broke the little frame, Ev'n all to pieces j which I v/ent to feek : I HE CHURCH. 11^ And firft I found the corner where was y After, where ES^ and next where U was graved. When I had got thefe parcels, inftantly I fat me down to fpell them, and perceived That to my broken heart he was / eafe you. And to my whole is JESlh Bufineffe. CANST be idle ? canft thou play, Foolifli foul who fmn'd to day? Rivers run, and fprings each one Know their home, and get them gone : Haft thou tears, or haft thou none ? If, poore foul, thou haft no tears ; Would thou had ft no faults or fears ! Who hath thefe, thofe ill forbears. Windes ftill work : it is their plot. Be the feason cold, or hot : Haft thou fighs, or haft thou not ? If thou haft no fighs or grones. Would thou hadft no flefti and bones ! Lefler pains fcape greater ones. But if yet thou idle be, Foolifti foul. Who di'd for thee f Who did leave his Fathers throne, To aflume thy fiefli and bone ? Had he life, or had he none ? I 2 ii6 Herbert's poems. If he had not livM for thee, Thou hadft di'd moft wretchedly 5 And two deaths had been thy fee. He fo farre thy good did plot. That his own felf he forgot. Did he die, or did he not ? If he had not di'd for thee, Thou hadft hv'd in miferie. Two lives worfe than ten deaths be. And hath any fpace of breath 'Twixt his llnnes and Saviours death ? He that lofeth gold, though drofle, Tells to all he meets, his crofTe : He that finnes, hath he no lofie ? He that findes a filver vein. Thinks on it, and thinks again : Brings thy Saviours death no gain ? Who in heart not ever kneels. Neither finne nor Saviour feels. Dialo gue, SWEETEST Saviour, if my foul Were but worth the having, Quickly fhould I then controll Any thought of waving.* * Wavering, THE CtiURCH. If 7 But when all my care and pains Cannot give the name of gains To thy wretch fo full of ftains; What delight or hope remains ? What (childe), is the ballance thine, Thine the poife and meafurc ? If I fay, Thou fhalt be mine, Finger not my treafure. What the gains in having thee Do amount to, onely he. Who for man was fold, can fee. That tranfferr'd th' accounts to me. But as I can fee no merit. Leading to this favour : So the way to fit me for it, Is beyond my favour. As the reafon then is thine j So the way is none of mine : I difclaim the whole defigne : Sinne difclaims and I refigne That is all, if that I could Get without repining ; And my clay, my creature, would Follow my refigning : That as I did freely part With my glorie and defert. Left all joyes to feel all fmart Ah ! no more : thou break'ft my heart. Il8 Herbert's Poems. Dulneffe. WHY do I languifh thus, drooping and dull. As if I were all earth ? O give me quicknefTe, that I may with mirth Praife thee brim-full ! The Wanton lover in a curious ftrain Can praife his faireft fair j And with quaint metaphors her curled hair Curl o'er again : Thou art my lovelinefle, my life, my light, Beautie alone to me ; Thy bloudy death, and undeferv'd, makes thee Pure red and white. When all perfe6lions as but one appeare. That thofe thy form doth fhew. The very duft, where thou doft tread and go Makes beauties here ; Where are my lines then? my approaches? views? Where are my window fongs? Lovers are ftill pretending, and ev'n wrongs Sharpen their Mufe. But I am loft in flefh, whofe fugred lyes Still mock me, and grow bold : Sure thou didft put a minde there, if I could Finde where it lies. THE CHURCH. I IQ Lord, cleare thy gift, that with a conftant wit * I may but look towards thee : Look onely ; for to love thee, who can be. What angel fit f Love-joy, As on a window late I call mine eye, I faw a vine drop grapes with J and C Anneal'd* on every bunch. One ftanding by AfkM what it meant. I (who am never loth To fpend my judgment) faid, It feem'd to me To be the body and the letters both Of Joy and Charitie ; Sir, you have not mill' 'd, The man reply'd ; it figures JESUS CHRIST. ^ Providence. O SACRED Providence, who from end to end Strongly and fweetly moveft ! fhall I write, And not of thee, through whom my fingers bend To hold my quill ; fhall they not do thee right ? Of all the creatures both in fea and land, Onely to man thou hafl made known thy wayes, And put the penne alone into his hand, And made him Secretarie of thy praife. * Burnt in. 120 HERBERT S POEMS. Beafts fain would ling ; birds ditty to their notes ; Trees would be tuning on their native lute To thy renown : but all their hands and throats Are brought to Man, while they are lame and mute. Man is the worlds high Priefl : he doth prefent The facriiice for all j while they below Unto the fervice mutter an aflent, Such as fprings ufe that fall, and windes that blow. He that to praife and laud thee doth refrain. Doth not refrain unto himfelf alone, But robs a thoufand who would praife thee fain ; And doth commit a world of fmne in one. The beafts fay, Eat me, but, if beafts muft teach. The tongue is yours to eat, but mine to praife. The trees fay, Pull me : but the hand you ftretch Is mine to write, as it is ^'^ours to raife. Wherefore, moft facred Spirit, I here prefent For me and all my fellows praife to thee ; And juft it is that I fhould pay the rent, Becaufe the benefit accrues to me. We all acknowledge both thy power and love To be exa6l, tranfcendent, and divine ; Who doil fo ftrongly and (o fweetly move. While all things have their will, yet none but thine. For either thy command, or thy permiffion Lay hands on all : they are th / right and left : The firft puts on with fpeed arid expedition ; The other curbs fmnes ftealina; p^^ce and theft ; THE CHaRCH. 121 Nothing efcapes them both : all mult appeare, And be difpoPd, and dreff'd, and tun'd by thee, Who fweetly temper'ft all. If we could heare Thy fkill and art, what mufick would it be ! Thou art in fmall things great, not fmall in any : Thy even praife can neither rife, nor fall. Thou art in all things one, in each thing many : For thou art infinite in one and all. Tempefls are calm to thee, they know thy hand, And hold it faft, as children do their fathers. Which crie and follow. Thou haft made poore fand Check the proud fea, e'vn when it fwells and gathers. Thy cupboard ferves the world : the meat is fet,* Where all may reach : no beaft but knows his feed. Birds teach us hawking : fifhes have their net : The great prey on the lefle, they on fome weed. Nothing ingendered doth prevent his meat ; Flies have their table fpread, ere they appeare ; Some creatures have in winter what to eat , Others do fleep, and envie not their cheer. How finely doft thou times and feafons fpin, And make a twift checker'd with night and day ! Which as it lengthens windes, and windes us in, As bowls go on, but. turning all the way. £ach creature hath a wifdome for his good. The pigeons feed their tender off-fpring, crying, When they are callow ; but withdraw their food. When they are fledged, that need may teach them flying, * " Thefe wait all upon thee, that thou mayeft give them meat in due feafon." — Psa. civ. 27. 14 122 HERBERT'S POEMS. Bees work for man ; and yet they never bruife Their mafters flower, but leave it, having done, As fair as ever, and as fit to ufe : So both the flower doth flay, and hony run. Sheep eat the grafl^e, and dung the ground for more : Trees after bearing drop their leaves for foil : Springs vent their ftreams, and by expenfe get ftore : Clouds cool by heat, and baths by cooling boil. Who hath the vertue to expreile the rare And curious vertues both of herbs and ftones ? Is there an herb for that ? O that thy care Would fhow a root, that gives expreflions ! And if an herb hath power, what hath the ftarres ? A rofe, befides his beautie, is a cure. DoubtleflTe our plagues and plentie, peace and warres, Are there much furer than our art is fure. Thou haft hid metals : man may take them thence j But at his perill : when he digs the place. He makes a grave ; as if the thing had fenfe, And threatened man, that he fhould fill the fpace. Ev'n poyfons praife thee. Should a thing be loft f Should creatures want, for want of heed their due? Since where are poyfons, antidotes are moft ; The help ftands clofe, and keeps the fear in view. The fea, which feems to ftop the traveller. Is by a fliip the fpeedier pafl^age made. The windes, who think they rule the mariner, Are rul'd by him, and taught to ferve his trade. THE CHURCH. I23 And as thy houfe is full, fo I adore Thy curious art in marlhalling thy goods. The hills with health abound, the vales with ftore ; The South with marble; North with furres and woods. Hard things are glorious ; eafie things good cheap ; The common all men have ; that which is rare. Men therefore feek to have, and care to keep. The healthy frofls with fummer-fruits compare. Light without winde is glaiTe : warm without weight Is wooll and furres : cool without clofenefle, fhade : Speed without pains, a horfe : tall without height, A fervile hawk : low without loffe, a fpade. All countries have enough to ferve their need : If they feek fine things, thou doft make them run For their offence ; and then doft turn their fpeed To be commerce and trade from funne to funne. Nothing wears clothes, but man ; nothing doth need But he to wear them. Nothing ufeth fire. But Man alone, to fhow his heav'nly breed : And onely he hath fuell in defire. When th' earth was dry, thou mad'fi: a fea of wet : When that lay gather'd, thou didft broach* the moun- tains : When yet fome places could no moifture get, The windes grew gard'ners, and the clouds good foun- tains. * To pierce a veflel in order to draw out the liquor. Bifhop Pearfon employs the word in the fame fenfe as Herbert : " When his rod had cealed to * broach' the rocks." — On the Creed, Art. I. 124 HERBERTS POEMS. Rain, do not hurt my flowers ; but gently fpend Your hony drops : prelTe not to fmell them here ; When they are ripe their odour will afcend, And at your lodging with their thanks appeare. How harfh are thorns to pears ! and yet they make A better hedge, and need lefTe reparation. How fmooth are filks compared with a ftake, Or with a ftone ! yet make no good foundation. Sometimes thou doft divide thy gifts to man, Sometimes unite. The Indian nut alone Is clothing, meat and trencher, drink and can, Boat, cable, fail and needle, all in one. Moft herbs that grow in brooks, are hot and dry, Cold fruits warm kernells help againft the winde. The lemmons juice and rinde cure mutually. The whey of milk doth loofe, the milk doth binde. Thy creatures leap not, but exprefTe a feaft, Where all the guefts fit clofe, and nothing wants. Frogs marry fifh and flefh ; bats, bird and beaft : Sponges, nonfenfe and fenfe ; mines, th' earth and plants. To fhow thou art not bound, as if thy lot Were worfe than ours, fometimes thou fhifteft hands. Moft things move th' under-jaw ; the Crocodile not. Moft things fleep lying, th' Elephant leans or ftands. But who hath praife enough ? nay, who hath any ? None can exprefTe thy works, but he that knows them ; And none can know thy works, which are fo many, And fo complete, but onely he that owes them. THE CHURCH. 1 25 All things that are, though they have fev'rall v/ayes. Yet in their being joyn with one advice To honour thee : and fo I give thee praife In all my other hymnes, but in this twice. Each thing that is, although in ufe and name It go for one, hath many wayes in ftore To honour thee ; and To each hymne thy fame Extolleth many wayes, yet this one more. Hope. I GAVE to Hope a watch of mine : but he An anchor gave to me. Then an old Prayer-book I did prefent : And he an optick* fent. With that I gave a viall full of tears : But he a few green eares. Ah Loyterer ! Pie no more, no more Tie bring I did expert a ring. Sinnes round. SORRIE I am, my God, forrie I am, That my offences courfe it in a ring. My thoughts are vv^orking like a bufie flame, Untill their cockatrice they hatch and bring : And when they once have perfe6led their draughts. My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts. • An inftnimenc of Tigni 126 Herbert's poems. My words take fire from my inflamed thoughts, Which fpit it forth like the Sicihan* hill. They vent the wares, and pafle them with their faults. And by their breathing ventilate the ill. But words fuffice not, where are lewd intentions : My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions : My hands do joyn to finifh the inventions : And fo my finnes afcend three flories high. As Babel grew, before there were difTentions. Yet ill deeds loyter not : for they fupplie New thoughts of fmning ; wherefore, to my fhame Sorrie I am, my God, forrie I am. Time. MEETING with Time, flack thing, faid I, Thy fithe is dull ; whet it for fhame. No marveli Sir, he did replie. If it at length deferve fome blame : But where one man would have me grinde it, Twentie for one too fharp do finde it. Perhaps fome fuch of old did pafTe, Who above all things lov'd this life ; To whom thy fithe a hatchet was, Which now is but a pruning-knife. Chrifls coming hath made man thy debter, Since by thy cutting he grows better. And in his bleffing thou art blefl : For where thou onely wert before An excutioner at beft. Thou art a gard'ner now, and more. * Mount JEtna. THE CHURCH. 12^ An ufher to convey our fouls Beyond the utmofl ftarres arid poles. And this is that makes life fo long, While it detains us from our God. Ev'n pleafures here increafe the wrong : And length of dayes lengthens the rod. Who wants the place, where God doth dwell, Partakes already half of hell. Of what ftrange length muft that needs be, Which ev'n eternitie excludes ! Thus farre Time heard me patiently : Then chafing faid, This man deludes : What do I here before his doore ? He doth not crave lefTe time, but more. Gratefulneffe. OTHOU that haft giv'n fo much to me, Give one thing more, a gratefull heart. See how thy beggar works on thee By art. He makes thy gifts occafion more. And fayes. If he in this be croft, All thou haft giv'n him heretofore Is loft. • But thou didft reckon, when at firft Thy word our hearts and hands did crave. What it would come to at the worft To fave. 128 Herbert's poems. Perpetuall knockings at thy doore, Tears fullying thy tranfparent rooms Gift upon gift; much would have more, And comes. This not withfranding, thou wentft on And didll allow us all our noife : Nay thou haft made a figh and grone Thy joyes. Not that thou haft not ftill above Much better tunes, then grones can make; But that thefe countrey-aires thy love Did take. Wherefore I crie, and crie again ; And in no quiet canft thou be, Till I a thankfull heart obtain Of thee: Not thankfull, when it pleafeth me ; As if thy bleftings had fpare dayes : But fuch a heart, whofe pulfe may be Thy praife. Peace. SWEET Peace, where doft thou dwell ? I humbly Let me once know. [crave. I fought thee in a fecret cave. And afk'd, if Peace were there. A hollow winde did feem to anfwer, No ; Go feek elfe where. THE CHURCH. I29 I did ; and going did a rainbow note : Surely, thought I, This is the lace of Peace's coat : I will fearch out the matter. But while I lookt, the clouds immediately Did break and fcatter. Then went I to a garden, and did fpy A gallant flower, The crown Imperiall :* Sure, faid I, Peace at the root muft dwell. But when I digg'd, I faw a worme devoure What fhow'd (o well. At length I met a revVend good old man : Whom when for Peace I did demand, he thus began ; ^ There was a Prince of old At Salem dwelt, who liv'd with good increafe Of flock and fold. He fweetly liv'd ; yet fweetnefle did not fave His life from foes. But after death out of his grave There fprang twelve ftalks of wheat Which many wondring at, got fome of thofe To plant and fet. * The flower with that name. Cowley, in his hymn to light, has a beautiful allufion to it : — " A crimfon garment in the rofe thou wear'il j A crown of ftudded gold thou bear'ft j The virgin lilies in their white, Are clad but with the lawn of almoft naked light." 130 HERBERTS POEMS. It profper'd ftrangely, and did foon difperfe Through all the earth : For they that tafte it do rehearfe, That vertue lies therein ; A fecret vertue, bringing peace and mirth By flight of finne. Take of this grain, which in my garden grows, And grows for you ; Make bread of it : and that repofe. And peace which ev'ry where With fo much earneftnelTe you do purfue, Is onely there. Confeffion, y^ WHAT a cunning gueft _ Is this fame grief ! within my heart I made Clofets ; and in them many a cheft ; And like a mafter in my trade, In thofe chefts, boxes ; in each box, a till : Yet grief knows all, and enters when he will. No fcrue, no piercer can Into a piece of timber worke and winde, As God*s afflictions into man. When he a torture hath defigned. They are too fubtill for the fubt'ileft hearts ; And fall, like rheumes, upon the tendreft parts. We are the earth ; and they, Like moles within us, heave, and caft about : And till they foot and clutch their prey. THE CHURCH. I3I They never cool, much lefle give out. No fmith can make fuch locks, but they have keyes ; Clofets are halls to them ; and hearts, high-wayes. Onely an open breaft Doth {hut them out, fo that they cannot enter ; Or, if they enter, cannot reft, But quickly feek fome new adventure. Smooth open hearts no faftning have ; but fi