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n 
 
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Robert Herrick. 
 
cipn/lrom 
 
 '■v 
 
 'HARPER & WMKr-muJwKr^ 
 
COTYTilGHT, 1882, "BY 
 Q/lll Tights Reserved. 
 
 TYTS FHOm "y^s L£(i4'T)8tKHQ4LLS TUSSSS" fFISLT) & TVSHJ, LO^^DOO^. 
 
 


 PAGB 
 
 Preface i. 
 
 To his Muse 2 
 
 The Argument of his Book 5 
 
 A Beucolick, or Discourse of Neatherds g 
 
 To Blossoms 19 
 
 To Anthea, who may Command him any thing 20 
 
 To Daffadills 23 
 
 Love What It Is 23 
 
 Delight in Disorder 24 
 
 A Short Hymne to Venus 24 
 
 No Man Without Money 24 
 
 His Content in the Country 27 
 
 Upon Parson Beanes 28 
 
PAGE 
 
 To a Bed of Tulips 28 
 
 Upon a Virgin Kissing a Rose 28 
 
 Discontents in Devon 31 
 
 His Returne to London 31 
 
 All Things Decay and Die 32 
 
 To Dianeme 32 
 
 His Grange, or Private Wealth 33 
 
 Posting to Printing 34 
 
 Upon Julia's Clothes 34 
 
 Divination by a Daffadill 37 
 
 The Cruell Maid 37 
 
 Upon Clunn 38 
 
 The Bleeding Hand : or, the Sprig of Eglantine Given to a Maid 41 
 
 His Protestation to Perilla 41 
 
 To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time 42 
 
 Upon Sapho, Sweetly Playing, and Sweetly Singing 42 
 
 Againe 45 
 
 A Ring Presented to Julia 45 
 
 The Tinkers Song 46 
 
 The Succession of the Foure Sweet Months 49 
 
 The Rock of Rubies : and the Quarrie of Pearls 49 
 
 Money Makes the Mirth 49 
 
 The Hag 50 
 
 To Daisies, Not to Shut so Soone 53 
 
 Farewell Frost or Welcome the Spring 54 
 
 To Meddowes 54 
 
 To the Rose. Song 57 
 
 To the Western Wind 58 
 
 His Cavalier 58 
 
 Ceremonies for Christniasse .61 
 
 The Ceremonies for Candlemasse Day 61 
 
 His Poetrie his Pillar 62 
 
 A Ternarie of Littles, upon a Pipkin of Jellie Sent to a Lady . 65 
 
 A Meditation for his Mistresse 65 
 
 To be Merry 66 
 
 Corinna's Going a Maying 69 
 
 The Mad Maids Song 80 
 
 A Bucolick Betwixt Two 83 
 
 The Parcae, or. Three Dainty Destinies : The Armilet .... 84 
 The Willow Garland 87 
 
PAGE 
 
 Upon Mrs. Eliz : Wheeler, under the Name of Amarillis ... 87 
 A Dialogue Betwixt Himselfe and Mistresse Eliza: Wheeler, un- 
 der the Name of Amarillis 88 
 
 Why Flowers Change Colours 91 
 
 I Call and I Call 91 
 
 The Old Wives Prayer 92 
 
 Ceremony upon Candlemas Eve 92 
 
 Christmas-Eve, another Ceremonie 92 
 
 Dean-Bourn, a Rude River in Devon. By which sometimes he 
 
 lived 97 
 
 To his Maid Prew 98 
 
 Upon Prudence Baldwin. Her Sicknesse 98 
 
 Upon Prew his Maid 98 
 
 To Primroses Fill'd with Morning Dew loi 
 
 To Violets 102 
 
 Upon Love 102 
 
 The Primrose 105 
 
 To Mistresse Katherine Bradshaw, the Lovely, that Crowned him 
 
 with Laurel 105 
 
 A Vow to Venus 106 
 
 Upon Mistresse Susannah Southwell. Her Cheeks 106 
 
 Upon her Eyes 106 
 
 Upon her Feet 106 
 
 How Primroses came Green 109 
 
 A Canticle to Apollo no 
 
 Upon Julia's Voice no 
 
 Another upon her Weeping no 
 
 To Electra 113 
 
 On Love 113 
 
 Upon Himself 113 
 
 The Rainbow: or Curious Covenant 114 
 
 The Bracelet to Julia 114 
 
 The Rosarie 114 
 
 Song. His Mistris to him at his Farwell 117 
 
 His Request to Julia 117 
 
 Upon his Kinswoman Mistris Elizabeth Herrick n8 
 
 Anthea's Retraction 118 
 
 To Anthea 118 
 
 The Wake 121 
 
 Upon Much-More. Epig 121 
 
To Julia 122 
 
 The Night-Piece, to Julia 122 
 
 Upon the Losse of his Mistresses 125 
 
 To the Reverend Shade of his Religious Father 125 
 
 To Laurels 126 
 
 To the Lark 127 
 
 The Fairies 127 
 
 Charms 128 
 
 Another Ceremonie 128 
 
 Upon Peason. Epig 128 
 
 Upon an Old Woman 128 
 
 Twelfe Night, or King and Queene 131 
 
 Content, not Gates 132 
 
 Jack and Jill 132 
 
 His Comfort 132 
 
 Upon Tap 132 
 
 To Anthea 135 
 
 His Wish to Privacie 135 
 
 Upon Spur 136 
 
 To his Booke 136 
 
 To my 111 Reader 136 
 
 To Dianeme 139 
 
 Upon Cuife. Epig 140 
 
 Upon the Detracter 140 
 
 To a Friend 140 
 
 Upon a Maide 143 
 
 An Epitaph upon a Virgin 143 
 
 To his Girles who would have him Sportfull 144 
 
 Lyrick for Legacies 144 
 
 The Comming of Good Luck 147 
 
 The Power in the People 147 
 
 111 Government 147 
 
 Losse from the Least 147 
 
 To Oenone 148 
 
 The Bride-Cake 148 
 
 His Tears to Thamasis 151 
 
 Cherrie-Ripe 152 
 
 How Pansies or Heats-Esse came first 152 
 
 To Robin Red-Brest 155 
 
 The Sadnesse of Things for Sapho's Sicknesse 155 
 
PAGE 
 
 To Carnations. A Song 156 
 
 To Sapho . 156 
 
 On Chloris Walking in the Snow 156 
 
 Chloris Walking in the Snow is taken from Wits Recreation of 1640. Grosart, in his edi- 
 tion of Herrick in 1876, rejects this poem, and states as Ins reason that there are no 
 less than 62 pieces common to Wits Recreation and the Hesperides. and from this fact 
 he believes that Herrick instructed his publisher to take the poems of his composition 
 in Wits Recreation for the Hesperides, and that this was not copied denotes definitely 
 that Herrick was not the writer of it. 
 
 How Roses came Red 159 
 
 How Violets came Blew 159 
 
 To Pansies 160 
 
 On Himselfe 160 
 
 Upon Blanch 160 
 
 To Sycamores 163 
 
 No Luck in Love 163 
 
 To Cherry-Blossomes 163 
 
 To his Booke 164 
 
 To his Booke 164 
 
 The Coblers Catch 164 
 
 Upon a Child that Dyed 167 
 
 How Marigold's came Yellow 167 
 
 To Mistresse Dorothy Parsons 167 
 
 To his Nephew to be Prosperous in his Art of Painting . . .168 
 
 The Departure of the Good Demon 168 
 
 Upon Fone a School-Master. Epig 168 
 
 Upon Love, by Way of Question and Answer 171 
 
 To Musique, to Becalme his Fever 171 
 
 His Confession 175 
 
 A Christmas Caroll Sung to the King in the Presence at White- 
 Hall 17s 
 
 Eternitie 176 
 
 Cock-Crow 179 
 
 The Bed-Man, or Grave-Maker 179 
 
 Temptation 179 
 
 The Rose 180 
 
 An Ode of the Birth of Our Saviour 180 
 
 A Grace for a Child 183 
 
 Upon Teares 183 
 
 The Bell-Man 184 
 
 To Keep a True Lent 184 
 
 Cloaths for Continuance 187 
 
 B 
 
Preface. 
 
 |E reve de la vie champetre" — as Georges 
 Sand has said compactly in the delightful 
 Mare au Diable — " a ete de tout temps 
 I'iddal des villes." T)eny it as we may, we 
 have all had, or must have it, — that fever 
 of the fields. We may prate with Captain 
 Morris of our shaded Pall Mall ; we may hug ourselves 
 with Lamb on the " sweet security of streets " ; we may 
 romance at large upon the liberties of locomotion and the 
 merits of the morning paper; but to each and all of us, the 
 young, the old — and even the middle-aged — has come or will 
 come, to-day or to-morrow, that hunger for the hills and 
 woods, — that craving for country scenes and sights. Old 
 places that we never noted, old things that we never re- 
 member to have forgotten, flash suddenly " upon our 
 inward eye" and crowd back " into our study of imagi- 
 nation." Where was it that we saw those three little ducks 
 huddling together in the sunlight, by what forgotteti farm 
 door, at whose porch a convolvulus climbed over a laurel? — 
 where that shaggy ajid loose-limbed mare, whose foal lay 
 rolling in the grass ? We never seem to have regarded 
 that '''■ cornfield-side a-flutter with poppies" and yet here 
 they are, in black and scarlet, dancing like Wordsworth's 
 daffodils. oAnd where is that hedge of meadow-sweet and 
 dog-rose, with the mower s jacket and stone-bottle and watch- 
 ful terrier which lie so distinctly on our retina ? Old 
 
 groups 
 i. 
 
« € .• • 
 
 groups of cattle under trees whose shadows lengthen on the 
 slopes; old dusty teams led tinkling to the water ; little 
 bridges by mills where the stream comes rushing blackly 
 from sombre under-channels ; gray quarries where the 
 sand-tnartins have honey-combed the chalk; willowy 
 hollows and restful river-banks where the '''• very fearful" 
 chub lie unsuspecting at the surface ; roofs rusted with 
 lichen, and crested with house-leek, where processional 
 pigeons " most do congregate " ; cottages with their round 
 wells, and homely door-settles, and honest garden-flowers — 
 their marjoram, and peony, and pink, and marygold ; all 
 these troop back disorderly, confusedly, when we yield our- 
 selves captive to the whim and the hour. cAs the vision is 
 the more unreasonable, as the time is the more ill-timed, the 
 more complete is our surrender. "By and by, humanity, 
 too, slips slowly into our ken. oAnd at this stage we are 
 conscious of a certain obliquity — a certain dishonesty — in 
 our tnental photography : it is not the '■^ horfi-handed breaker 
 of the glebe," still less the agricultural labourer of the blue- 
 books, who people our solitudes. It is the peasant of the 
 artist, in his spotless smock and picturesque wideawake, with 
 his apple cheeked spouse and his white-haired children. Or 
 it is that pastoral personage of the poets, who never lived but 
 in the Nomansland of Arcadian unreality where, as some 
 one said, '^ peers of the realm pipe on rocks, in velvet panta- 
 loons!' It is " neat-handed Phyllis " with her savoury 
 messes ; it is winsome Amaryllis ; it is Thestylis binding the 
 sheaves with Corvdon beside her ; it is Doris, and Chloris, 
 and Lalage, and the rest. We are deceived, and we wish to 
 be so; we are the victims of an amiable insanity ; we are 
 stirred by that pristine Pan whose mark we have all of us 
 somewhere about us, like the sharp ear-tip in the Faun of 
 Praxiteles. " Le rdve de la vie champetre a ete de tout 
 temps I'id^al des villes." 
 
 In 
 
 u. 
 
hi such a mifigltng of memory and fancy, in such 
 a mood ungrattfied, there is no better companion than that 
 old poet of the Seventeenth Century who wandered in his 
 Devon lanes at May-time, and sang, in " cleanly-wanton- 
 nesse " and golden-hearted words, of Julia and Corinna. 
 With Herrick we become spectators of a country-life which 
 time has ^''softly moulded in the filmy blue" of doubtfullest 
 remoteness, and over which his poetry has cast its inalien- 
 able — its imperishable charm. With him we walk about our 
 
 " owne dear bounds 
 
 Not envying others larger grounds " 
 
 and watch 
 
 " a present God-like Power 
 Imprinted in each Herbe and Flower : 
 And smell the breath of great-ey'd Kine, 
 Sweet as the blossomes of the Vine." 
 
 With him we behold the 
 
 " large sleek Neat 
 Unto the Dew-laps up in meat :" 
 
 or 
 
 " view the flocks 
 Of sheep, (safe from the Wolfe and Fox) 
 And find their bellies there as full 
 Of short sweet grasse, as backs with wool." 
 With him we eat ^^ Tarts and Custards'' at Wakes; with 
 him we linger at aAIay-poles and oM orris-dances, at 
 ^^ Shecring-f easts" and ^Mummeries, at Hock-carts and 
 ^^ 'Barly-^reaks" ; we revel with him at " Twelfe-tide " 
 and " Christmas," and share the 
 
 " Nut-browne mirth, the Russet wit," 
 where 
 
 " no man payes too deare for it." 
 
 With him, lest coy maids should see goblins, we tear down 
 the misletoe and hollv on Candlemas eve ; and spread, at 
 
 Whitsuntide, 
 iii. 
 
Whitsuntide, with green rushes and ^'■sweetest Merits" the 
 new adorned house. '''■When the Rose raignes" — when, (it 
 may be J, he has quaffed a health to Ovid or Catullus, and the 
 
 " iinmensive cup 
 Of oAromatike wine " 
 has cast a classic haze over his English eye-sight, we join 
 our voices to his, and sing of kisses and " True-love knots," 
 of '■''cherry lips" and 
 
 " Cheeks like Creame Enclarited." 
 
 We sigh with him 
 
 " as Lovers do : 
 
 And talk of Brides ; ^ who shall make 
 
 This wedding-smock, this Bridal-Cake 
 
 That Dress, this Sprig, that Leaf, this Vine; 
 
 That smooth and silken Columbine. 
 
 This done, we draw lots, who shall buy 
 
 And guild the Bales and Rosemary : 
 
 What Posies for our Wedding Rings ; 
 
 What gloves we'l give, and Ribanings : 
 
 And smiling at our selves, decree. 
 
 Who then the joyning T^riest shall be. 
 
 What short sweet Pravers shall be said ; 
 
 And how the Posset shall be made 
 
 With cream of Lillies (not of Kine) 
 , And oMaiden's-blush, for spiced wine." 
 
 We arc never tired of hearing him sing of Julia's dress and 
 its "brave ^Vibration," of her "^ handsome cAnger," of her 
 "Lawnes" and "Tiffanies," her " hair e filVd with T)ew" 
 and her "Quarelets of Tear I." CT^or is it any defect in this 
 delightful lyrist that (as Horace before him J he sings 
 with equal gust of Dianem^ ajtd Perenna, of Electra and 
 Anthea, or of the three " dainty T>estinies," who weave his 
 "oArmilet." oAnd now again we take part in that fairy 
 service of King Oberon, where stands 
 
 "Just 
 iv. 
 
"Just in the middle of the Altar 
 Upon an end, the F'atrte-Tsalter, 
 Grac't with the Trout-flies curious wings"; 
 
 and where 
 
 " Hard by, i'th'shell of halfe a nut, 
 The holy- water there is put"; 
 or we assist at those pretty pagan hymnlets where he vows 
 ^^ T>affadills'' to Bacchus, or a peacock to Juno, or a 
 " broad-fact Owle " to Minerva. Or we listen to him when, 
 in those divinest lines, he bids a bride come on, 
 
 " and veeld 
 A savour like unto a blessed field, 
 
 When the bedabled Morne 
 Washes the golden eares of corne"; 
 or prays to music to " becalme his Fever," — to 
 " Fall on him like a silent dew. 
 
 Or like those Maiden showrs. 
 Which, bv the peepe of day, doe strew 
 A Baptime o're the flowers." 
 'But in the mood with which this paragraph began, it is chiefly 
 as the fresh singer of the country-life, that we prize and 
 praise him most. He fits our whim by his clear and lucid 
 vision of natural objects, and he peoples his landscapes with 
 figures that we would see, if we could, and know, if it might 
 be. He adds too that, which, without him, our unspeculative 
 eyes might seek in vain, — 
 
 "the light that never was, on sea or land, 
 The consecration, and the Poet's dream." 
 oAnd here it is necessary to justify a certain air 
 of partiality in the series of poems to which these words 
 are prefatory. To find in Herrick but the idyllic and the 
 amorous, — to see in him no more than the bard of those 
 
 " unbaptized Rhimes 
 Writ in his wild unhallowed Times," — 
 
 is 
 
ts to forget (as it cannot but seem) his graver and austeter 
 cMuse, — to lose in the apple-orchards of the Hesperides the 
 vesper-chiming of the Noble Numbers. Such a forgetful- 
 ness, however, — such a profane misliking, is far from 
 those to whom this gathering is due. If they have forborne 
 to tread the dim aisles where " the pealing organ blows" 
 and lingered rather among the deep grasses and zigzag 
 fruit-tree-arms, — if their motto has been rather " leviore 
 plectro " than " oAt a solemn oMusick," it is because their 
 humour has been more often gay than grave, and that it is 
 in their " trop lasche oysifvete " that they have read their 
 Poet. Hence, in this their garland, they make no claim 
 to have exhausted all the flower-beds. They do not pretend 
 to be representative, or eclectic, or chronological — or even 
 aesthetic I If any outline or vision of a plan may be said 
 to have affected them, it has been to lean somewhat to those 
 pieces which deal with the rustic pictures, the old-world 
 pleasures, the simple folk-lore of an earlier and less progress- 
 ridden England, "^ut even to admit this, is to admit too much. 
 Such an anthology as tnight grow up in a painter s studio, 
 where, through some sunny afternoon, one reads aloud while 
 the other works, would be the fittest image of the present 
 , selection. Suppose afterwards that the whole were printed 
 together — the pictures which were drawn, the poems which 
 were read, and the volume before the reader is suflUciently 
 explained. To explain it more fully or more precisely 
 would be to detain him needlessly — nay even discourteously, 
 from the dainties before him. For who but an oAncienl 
 Mariner would button-hole a bidden guest where the host 
 is TiO'B&TiJ HGT<JUCK ! 
 
 .Austin Dobson. 
 
 VI 
 
TO HIS muss. 
 
 ^ ^ \HITH6>%^ aMad maiden wilt thou roame ? 
 LSI) Farre safer 'twere to stay at home : 
 
 Where thou mayst sit, and piping please 
 The poore and private Cottages. 
 Since Coats, and Hamlets, best agree 
 With this thy meaner Minstralsie. 
 There with the Reed, thou mayst expresse 
 The Shepherds Fleecie happinesse : 
 And with thy Eclogues intermixe 
 Some smooth, and harmlesse 'Beucoltcks. 
 There on a Hillock thou mayst sing 
 Unto a handsome Shephardling ; 
 Or to a Girle (that keeps the Neat) 
 With breath more sweet than Violet. 
 There, there, (perhaps) such Lines as These 
 May take the simple Uillages. 
 But for the Court, the Country wit 
 Is despicable unto it. 
 Stay then at home, and doe not goe 
 Or flie abroad to seeke for woe. 
 Contempts in Courts and Cities dwell ; 
 No Critick haunts the Poore mans Cell. 
 Where thou mavst hear thine own Lines read 
 By no one tongue, there, censured. 
 That man's unwise will search for 111, 
 And may prevent it, sitting still. 
 
\x[^/\ 
 
 v./"' 
 
 r 
 
c ' c > /« * c * 
 
TH& c^7^GZ7c7kf<SC^Cr OF HIS "BOOK. 
 
 /Sing of ^Brooks, of '■Blqfomes, Tiii'ds, and 'Bowers : 
 Of cAprtl, oMay, of J^unc, and J'?//y-Flowers. 
 I sing of cMay-po/es, Hock-carts. Wajfails.^ Wakes, 
 Of 'Bride-grooms, 'Brides, and of their 'Bridall-cakes. 
 
 I writfe of Youth, of Love, and have Acceffe 
 
 By these, to sing of cleanly- Wantonejfe. 
 
 I sing of T>ewes, of 'Raines, and piece by piece 
 
 Of 'Balme, of Ojy/^, of Spice, and oAmber-Greece. 
 
 I sing oi Times trans-shifting ; and I write 
 
 How lapses first came "Z^t/, and Lillies White. 
 
 I write of Groves, of Twilights, and I sing 
 
 The Court of oMab, and of the Fairie-King. 
 
 I write oi Hell ; I sing (and ever shall) 
 
 Of Heaven, and hope to have it after all. 
 
^i 
 
 ' •^^vcortcK 
 
 Dij-<^ovjLj-£ ^ mKiniuj' 
 
 ^ C^ine fclitK«-/vIl NeAtherd:^ Jet v^ lay 
 A v/ag<ir >*• ih» b't\ Shs-K fliiy 
 Of ,^,« Or 1 ,),j ro^yiiel^y 
 
 
 In. .eutjte },„t s.Iiit. "^j.i.n'' 
 
qA "B&UCOLICK, 
 oil "DISCO UI^SS OF C^6cATH6'K!DS. 
 
 'C 
 
 10qM& blithefull Neatherds, let us lay 
 A wager, who the best shall play, 
 Of thee, or I, the Roundelay, 
 That fits the businesse of the Day. 
 
 Chor. And Lallage the Judge shall be, 
 To give the prize to thee, or me. 
 
 2 Content, begin, and I will bet 
 A Heifer smooth, and black as jet, 
 In every part alike compleat. 
 And wanton as a Kid as yet. 
 
 Chor. And Lallage (with cow-like eyes) 
 Shall be Disposeresse of the prize. 
 
 1 Against thy Heifer, I will here 
 Lay to thy stake a lustie Steere, 
 
 With gilded homes, and burnisht cleere. 
 Chor. Why then begin, and let us heare 
 
 The soft, the sweet, the mellow note 
 That gently purles from cithers Oat. 
 
 2 The stakes are laid : let's now apply 
 Each one to make his melody : 
 
 Lai. The equall Umpire shall be I, 
 
 Who'l hear, and so judge righteously. 
 
 Chor. Much time is spent in prate ; begin. 
 And sooner play, the sooner win. 
 
 ^He playes. 
 
 9 
 
S^He playes. 
 I That's sweetly touch't, I must confesse : 
 
 Thou art a man of worthinesse : 
 
 But hark how I can now expresse 
 
 My love unto my Neatherdesse. 
 
 \He sings. 
 Chor. A suger'd note ! and sound as sweet 
 
 As Kine, when they at milking meet. 
 
 4 Now for to win thy Heifer faire, 
 rie strike thee such a nimble Ayre, 
 That thou shalt say (thy selfe) 'tis rare ; 
 And title me without compare. 
 
 Chor. Lay by a while your Pipes, and rest, 
 Since both have here deserved best. 
 
 2 To get thy Steerling, once again, 
 
 rie play thee such another strain ; 
 
 That thou shalt swear, my Pipe do's raigne 
 
 Over thine Oat, as Soveraigne. 
 
 S^He sings. 
 Chor. And Lallage shall tell by this, 
 
 Whose now the prize and wager is. 
 
 I Give me the prize : 2. The day is mine : 
 
 I Not so ; my Pipe has silenc't thine : 
 And hadst thou wager'd twenty Kine, 
 They were mine own. Lai. In love combine, 
 
 Chor. And lay we down our Pipes together. 
 As wearie, not o'recome by either. 
 
 lO 
 

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 i^ay to ihv AaK<5 a Ivfti^ Jl**r« 
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 5\„A f-n^r jr.iy. ,1,, ^^.„,^ ^..^ 
 
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 TkalV fw»ll/ l-'v'h't 1 lnvf( tonf>f« ; 
 TilOv art a mxnve of -»»rthiiiefj*« : 
 *5vl Ji.\rK liow I «An iiow exprcf^e 
 
 [>rf« ^jngy 
 
 yv.^ Kin' wh'n th«^ at milKin^« in«t 
 
 ^o^e fur t" ■si'ili (hv H\Hi'r foir« 
 
 iV ftriKe (h« fv"-/i .1 nlniW' aire 
 
 Thai tli'V fhali fa^e tli/f'Ife, 'tiJ- rivre; 
 
 iAnd title -nve vriiTiovt '^^ 
 
 «yiii»= fth JiavC j,eare d^feru'd <h' Ifti. 
 
 -2 I/, gft fh/ ft«rliiis,=i.<'t AfAin 
 
 II« play lht«- fv<-h an"IK«r firain, 
 
 ThAt l^utf flialt fw^Ar th/ pipe do> ra^t* 
 
 0%x<^T thin^ "At nv i/Su^raigna 
 
 C*»A 5^,,^ lAlteje fhAil t»II by thi^ 
 
 -^^Jiofe- no-w^ t]i« pjiz« and »»A£<?r ij» 
 
' fiive me the prt 2* : 
 
 Tji". Wi« :„i„e c„ 
 
TO "BLOSSOdMS. 
 
 r^C^mS pledges of a fruitfull Tree, 
 Ml Why do yee fall so fast ? 
 
 Your date is not so past ; 
 But you may stay yet here a while, 
 
 To blush and gently smile ; 
 And go at last. 
 
 What, were yee borne to be 
 
 An houre or half's delight ; 
 
 And so to bid goodnight ? 
 Twas pitie Nature brought yee forth 
 
 Meerly to shew your worth. 
 And lose you quite. 
 
 But you are lovely Leaves, where we 
 
 May read how soon things have 
 Their end, though ne'r so brave : 
 
 And after they have shown their pride. 
 
 Like you a while : They glide 
 Into the Grave. 
 
 19 
 
TO qAUXJH&qA, who eMcAY COmoMcAU^'D 
 Him qAUX. Y THIUHiG. 
 
 « 
 
 IT) me live, and I will live 
 Thy Protestant to be ; 
 
 Or bid me love, and I will give 
 A loving heart to thee. 
 
 A heart as soft, a heart as kind, 
 A heart as sound and free, 
 
 As in the whole world thou canst find, 
 That heart He give to thee. 
 
 Bid that heart stay, and it will stay, 
 
 To honour thv Decree : 
 Or bid it languish quite away, 
 
 And't shall doe so for thee. 
 
 Bid me to weep, and I will weep, 
 While I have eyes to see : 
 
 And having none, yet I will keep 
 A heart to weep for thee. 
 
 Bid me despaire, and He despaire. 
 Under that Cypresse tree : 
 
 Or bid me die, and I will dare 
 E'en Death, to die for thee. 
 
 Thou art my life, my love, my heart, 
 
 The very eyes of me : 
 And hast command of every part, 
 
 To live and die for thee. 
 
 20 
 
TO T>cAFFqAT}ILLS. 
 
 qAI%§, DafFadills, we weep to see 
 You haste away so soone : 
 yet the early-rismg Sun 
 [as not attain'd his Noone. 
 Stay, stay, 
 
 Until the hasting day 
 
 Has run 
 But to the Even-song ; 
 And, having pray'd together, we 
 Will goe with you along. 
 
 We have short time to stay, as you. 
 
 We have as short a Spring ; 
 As quick a growth to meet Decay, 
 As you, or any thing. 
 
 We die. 
 As your hours doe, and drie 
 
 Away, 
 Like to the Summers raine ; 
 Or as the pearles of Mornings dew 
 Ne'r to be found againe. 
 
 LOV& WHcAT IT IS. 
 
 L 
 
 0T)& is a circle that doth restlesse move 
 In the same sweet eternitv of love. 
 
 23 
 
1>& LIGHT 17<i 1)IS0T^&Ti, 
 
 M Sweet disorder in the dresse 
 j» /-§ Kindles in cloathes a wantonnesse : 
 
 A Lawne about the shoulders thrown 
 Into a fine distraction : 
 An erring Lace, which here and there 
 Enthralls the Crimson Stomacher : 
 A CufFe neglectfull, and thereby 
 Ribbands to flow confusedly : 
 A winning wave (deserving Note) 
 In the tempestuous petticote : 
 A carelesse shooe-string, in whose tye 
 I see a wilde civilitv : 
 Doe more bewitch me, then when Art 
 Is too precise in every part. 
 
 qA SH0T<J HYdMUX.'S' TO V€7^US. 
 
 y^OT>T>SSSi;, I do love a Girle 
 f 'W' 'Kl^^te-lipt, and tooth'd with T^carl . 
 
 fy If so be, I may but prove 
 Luckie in this Maide I love : 
 I will promise there shall be 
 oMirtles offer'd up to Thee. 
 
 VXp ciMoATHi WITHOUT ciTlf 0^(S F. 
 
 J\fO man such rare parts hath, that he can swim, 
 ^-^ » If favour or occasion helpe not him. 
 
 24 
 
J^Ji^Kt in Pif°rdL^r 
 
 

 y^^.'^&p ' ^iX' 
 
 
 HIS COU^TGU^T lUX. TH& C0U7<iT%Y. 
 
 T" yS^iG, here I live with what my Board, 
 / / Can with the smallest cost afford. 
 
 Though ne'r so mean the Viands be, 
 They well content my 'Prew and me. 
 Or Pea, or Bean, or Wort, or Beet, 
 What ever comes, content makes sweet : 
 Here we rejoyce, because no Rent 
 We pav for our poore Tenement : 
 Wherein we rest, and never feare 
 The Landlord, or the Usurer. 
 The Quarter-day do's ne'r affright 
 Our PeacefuU slumbers in the night. 
 We eate our own, and batten more, 
 Because we feed on no mans score : 
 But pitie those, whose flanks grow great, 
 Swel'd with the Lard of others meat. 
 We blesse our Fortunes, when we see 
 Our own beloved privacie : 
 And like our living, where w'are known 
 To very few, or else to none. 
 
 27 
 

 
 UD Parson 'dearies hunts six dayes of the week, 
 And on the seaventh, he has his Notes to seek. 
 Six dayes he hollows so much breath away, 
 That on the seaventh, he can nor preach, or pray. 
 
 TO qA 'B&'D of TULITS. 
 
 y^f^TilGHT TuUps, we do know, 
 k r\ You had your comming hither ; 
 
 And Fading-time do's show, 
 That Ye must quickly wither. 
 
 Your Sister-hoods mav stay. 
 And smile here for vour houre ; 
 But dye ye must away : 
 Even as the meanest Flower. 
 
 Come Virgins then, and see 
 Your frailties ; and bemone ye ; 
 For lost like these, 'twill be, 
 As Time had never known ye. 
 
 VPOC^ qA VITiGIUX. KISSICT^G (zA %OSE. 
 
 rWcAS but a single T^ose, 
 Till you on it did breathe ; 
 But since (me thinks) it shows 
 Not so much '^se, as Wreathe. 
 
 23 
 
VPON-ArVJRt'lN-KlJ'/IN^v^^ 
 
 ^)0\vAX Ijvt a Jjngle^Roxe, 
 |fTill You Oh h did BreatUe. 
 %:_, Bvt ^fhce y^e thinKj; it sUP^ 
 t Not J-o mvch, RfJ- s ^«f ^^' 
 
 'ij;*^ Wrea-ihe 
 
 R-ttetricK. 
 
It /F'O'J^ discontents I never had 
 M / f M Since I was born, then here ; 
 
 Where I have been, and still am sad, 
 In this dull T>evon-shire : 
 Yet justly too I must confesse ; 
 
 I ne'r invented such 
 Ennobled numbers for the Presse, 
 Then where I loath'd so much. 
 
 HIS 1{€TUT^UX,^ TO LOC^T)OCX. 
 
 "W ^'T^OcvVf the dull confines of the drooping West, 
 Ml To see the day spring from the pregnant East, 
 Ravisht in spirit, I come, nay more, I flie 
 To thee, blest place of my Nativitie ! 
 Thus, thus with hallowed foot I touch the ground, 
 
 With 
 
With thousand blessings by thy Fortune crown'd. 
 O fruitful Genius ! that bestowes there 
 An everlasting plenty, yeere by yeere. 
 
 Tlace ! O Teople ! Manners ! fram'd to please 
 All UHiations, Customes, Kindreds, Languages / 
 
 1 am a free-born Tinman ; suffer then, 
 That I amongst you live a Citizen. 
 
 London my home is : though by hard fate sent 
 Into a long and irksome banishment ; 
 Yet since cal'd back ; henceforward let me be, 
 O native countrev, repossest by thee ! 
 For, rather then I'le to the West return, 
 rie beg of thee first here to have mine Urn ; 
 Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall ; 
 Give thou my sacred Reliques Buriall. 
 
 CALL THIT^GS DQCoAY cAC^T) "BIS. 
 
 /ILL things decay with Time : The Forrest sees 
 ^ Am The growth, and down-fall of her aged trees : 
 
 That Timber tall, which three-score lusters stood 
 The proud 'Dictator of the State-like wood : 
 I meane (the Soveraigne of all Plants) the Oke 
 Droops, dies, and falls without the cleavers stroke. 
 
 TO 1)IqA'J^&qM&. 
 
 /^T^&^-A%&, though to part it be a Hell, 
 ^ B M Yet T>ianeme now farewell : 
 
 Thy frown (last night) did bid me goe ; 
 But whither, onelv Grief do's know. 
 
 I 
 
 32 
 
I doe beseech thee, ere we part, 
 
 (If mercifull, as faire thou art ; 
 
 Or else desir'st that Maids sho'd tell 
 
 Thv pitty by Loves-Chronicle) 
 
 O T)iaueme, rather kill 
 
 Me, then to make me languish stil ! 
 
 'Tis cruelty in thee to'th'height, 
 
 Thus, thus to wound, not kill out-right : 
 
 Yet there's a way found (if thou please) 
 
 By sudden death to give me ease : 
 
 And thus devis'd, doe thou but this, 
 
 Bequeath to me one parting kisse : 
 
 So sup'rabundant joy shall be 
 
 The Executioner of me. 
 
 HIS ClicJC^GS, Oil TTilVcATQ WQoALTH 
 
 Though clock, 
 
 To tell how night drawes hence, I've none, 
 
 A Cock, 
 I have, to sing how day drawes on. 
 
 I have 
 A maid (my T^rew) by good luck sent, 
 
 To save 
 That little. Fates me gave or lent. 
 
 A Hen 
 I keep, which creeking day by day, 
 
 Tells when 
 She goes her long white egg to lay. 
 
 A goose 
 I have, which, with a jealous care, 
 
 Lets loose 
 
 Her 
 
 33 
 
Her tongue, to tell what danger's neare. 
 
 A Lamb 
 I keep (tame) with my morsells fed, 
 
 Whose Dam 
 An Orphan left him (lately dead.) 
 
 A Cat 
 I keep, that playes about my House, 
 
 Grown fat, 
 With eating many a miching Mouse 
 
 To these 
 A *Trasy I do keep, whereby nkP''*' 
 
 I please 
 The more my rurall privacie : 
 
 Which are 
 But toyes, to give my heart some ease : 
 
 Where care 
 None is, slight things do lightly please. 
 
 z 
 
 TosTiuxG TO 'p%i:nitiuxg. 
 
 6T others to the Printing Presse run fast, 
 Since after death comes glory, I/e not haste. 
 
 UTOU^ JULloAS CLOTH&S. 
 
 Cf ^ \H&^y^ as in silks my Julia goes, 
 
 L\IJ Then, then (me thinks) how sweetly flowes 
 
 That liquefaction of her clothes. 
 Next, when I cast mine eyes and see 
 That brave Vibration each way free ; 
 O how that glittering taketh me ! 
 
 34 
 
"DIVIT^qATIOU^ "BY qA ^cAFFqADILL 
 
 w 
 
 \H6U^ a DafFadill I see, 
 
 Hanging down his head t' wards me; 
 
 Guesse I may, what I must be : 
 First, I shall decline my head ; 
 Secondly, I shall be dead ; 
 Lastly, safely buryed. 
 
 THQ C%V&LL moAIT). 
 
 yt7^^ Cruell Maid, because I see 
 M y~f ^^ou scornfull of my love, and me : 
 He trouble you no more ; but goe 
 My way, where you shall never know 
 What is become of me : there I 
 Will find me out a path to die ; 
 Or learne some way how to forget 
 You, and your name, for ever : yet 
 Ere I go hence ; know this from me, 
 What will, in time, your Fortune be : 
 This to your coynesse I will tell ; 
 And having spoke it once. Farewell. 
 
 37 
 
 The 
 
The Lillie will not long endure ; 
 Nor the Snow continue pure : 
 The Rose, the Violet, one day 
 See, both these Lady-flowers decay : 
 And you must fade, as well as they. 
 And it may chance that Love may turn, 
 And (like to mine) make your heart burn 
 And weep to see't ; yet this thing doe, 
 That my last Vow commends to you : 
 When you shall see that I am dead, 
 For pitty let a teare be shed ; 
 And (with your Mantle o're me cast) 
 Give my cold lips a kisse at last : 
 If twice you kisse, yon need not feare, 
 . That I shall stir, or live more here. 
 Next, hollow out a Tombe to cover 
 Me ; me, the most despised Lover : 
 And write thereon, This, %eader, know. 
 Love kiir d this man. No more but so. 
 
 U'POT^ CLUUXPK.- 
 
 M Rowle of Parchment Cliinn about him beares, 
 g^ /-§ Charg'd with the Armes of all his Ancestors : 
 And seems halfe ravisht, when he looks upon 
 That 'Bar, this 'Bend ; that Fess, this Cheveron ; 
 This oManch, that oMoone; this oMartlet, and that oMound; 
 This counterchange of Terle and ^Diamond. 
 What joy can Clun have in that Coat, or this. 
 When as his owne still out at elboes is ? 
 
 38 
 
"V^^n Cjvnn- 
 
 ¥ 
 
 y'-^l^ ^f Bar<^hTOf«i *-Jvnn aboyv him W^^r^f^ 
 
 ^hATg'o! */iOi lilt armf./- »/ aII hir ATi<>frVo,.^ , 
 a1 :-Iy\«ol Jeemr Half Te\U-irht_, «h«it he Jo"^^" ^J^"'!- ^'V^"^ 
 
 l^^j- Usy "^y- f<ill "vt ^l <^lbo<^y^ zy- 7 \ml 
 
^E^S^Ki 
 
 ^^i^|^^Hpi:^S^HH|^| 
 
 
 ^^"■^^^^Sr^-^^^-^i^^^^^^S 
 
 l^^^^l^ 
 
 ^^^^&^s 
 
 TH6 'BLSS'DICXG Hc^:?CD . 07^, TH6 STT^IG OF 
 6GLcJC\TICX,S GIVGCX TO oA moAlT) 
 
 W ^^{OaM this bleeding hand of mine, 
 ml Take this sprig of Eglantine. 
 
 Which (though sweet unto your smell) 
 Yet the fretfull bryar will tell, 
 He who plucks the sweets shall prove 
 Many thorns to be in Love. 
 
 HIS TWT&STcATIOU^ TO "P&^lLLcA. 
 
 li /^00NQ-1)A Yand Midnight shall at once be scene : 
 m / \/ Trees, at one time, shall be both sere and greene : 
 
 Fire and water shall together lye 
 In one-self-sweet-conspiring sympathie : 
 Summer and Winter shall at one time show 
 Ripe eares of corne, and up to th'eares in snow : 
 Seas shall be landlesse ; Fields devoid of grasse ; 
 Shapelesse the world, (as when all Chaos was) 
 Before, my deare '^Perilla, I will be 
 False to my vow, or fall away from thee. 
 
 41 
 
TO THS VITiGIDSiS, TO mcAKQ mUCH OF TimS>, 
 
 Q 
 
 dATH&^yt Rose-buds while ye may, 
 Old Time is still a flying : 
 And this same flower that smiles to day, 
 To morrow will be dying. 
 
 The glorious Lamp of Heaven, the Sun, 
 
 The higher he's a getting ; 
 The sooner will his Race be run, 
 
 And neerer he's to Setting. 
 
 That Age is best, which is the first, 
 When Youth and Blood are warmer ; 
 
 But being spent, the worse, and worst 
 Times, still succeed the former. 
 
 Then be not coy, but use your time ; 
 
 And while ye may, goe marry : 
 For having lost but once your prime, 
 
 You may for ever tarry. 
 
 UTOUSi Scat HO, SWQQTLY "PLcAYIUXG, oAU^'D 
 SWQ&TLY SIC\^GICXG. 
 
 CT/^ \H6C\ thou do'st play, and sweetly sing, 
 ^J^y Whether it be the voice or string. 
 
 Or both of them, that do agree 
 Thus to en-trance and ravish me : 
 This, this I know, I'm oft struck mute ; 
 And dye away upon thy Lute. 
 
 42 
 
■VY^ji 
 
 Ifkffh 
 
 o 
 
 'v/hm ttv'-v dj'ft pKy ^ fw'-'^Lly finj 
 ,„ ^ Wh'nK^r it be l!x'' u^i^e Or I'trini'". 
 
qAGqAIU^S. 
 
 ^ ^ \HEU^ I thy singing next shall heare, 
 i\J J He wish I might turne all to eare, 
 
 To drink in Notes, and Numbers ; such 
 As blessed soules cann't heare too much : 
 Then melted down, there let me lye 
 Entranc'd, and lost confusedly : 
 And by thy Musique strucken mute, 
 Die, and be turn'd into a Lute. 
 
 qa %i^g t'KSsscnj&'d to JULIcA. 
 
 7ULIcA, I bring 
 To thee this Ring, 
 Made for thy finger fit ; 
 To shew by this, 
 That our love is 
 (Or sho'd be) like to it. 
 
 Close though it be, 
 
 The joynt is free : 
 So when Love's yoke is on, 
 
 It must not gall. 
 
 Or fret at all 
 With hard oppression. 
 
 But it must play 
 
 Still either way : 
 And be, too, such a yoke, 
 
 As not too wide. 
 
 To over-slide ; 
 Or be so strait to choak. 
 
 45 
 
 So 
 
So we, who beare, 
 
 This beame, must reare 
 Our selves to such a height : 
 
 As that the stay 
 
 Of either may 
 Create the burden light. 
 
 And as this round 
 Is no where found 
 
 To flaw, or else to sever : 
 So let our love 
 As endless prove ; 
 
 And pure as Gold for ever. 
 
 MLOU^G, come along, 
 ^ /-i Let's meet in a throng 
 
 Here of Tinkers ; 
 And quaff^e up a Bowie 
 As big as a Cowle 
 
 To Beer Drinkers. 
 The pole of the Hop 
 Place in the Ale-shop 
 
 to Bethwack us ; 
 If ever we think 
 So much as to drink 
 
 Unto Hacchus. 
 Who frolick will be, 
 For little cost he 
 
 Must not vary, 
 From Beer-broth at all, 
 So much as to call 
 
 For Canary. 
 
 46 
 

 Iks 'TlNKI,^ •JokG' 
 
 If ^u^'r ^= Oiii^k 
 
 -'Zsn' 
 
 ■'Who fr°Ji=Tc \*i;i b^ 
 T^vft TV't ua.TJ' 
 Jo Tav=h- A-^ -1° 'all 
 
TH& S rices SSIOC\^ OF TH& FOU%S> SW&&T 
 mOU^THS. 
 
 W ^/T^ST, oApril^ she with mellow showrs 
 #7 Opens the way for early flowers ; 
 
 Then after her comes smiling oMay., 
 In a more rich and sweet aray : 
 Next enters June, and brings us more 
 Jems, then those two, that went before : 
 Then (lastly) July comes, and she 
 More wealth brings in, then all those three. 
 
 TH& WCK OF TiWEISS : cAT^'D 
 TH& QUoAT^m OF T^&qA%LS. 
 
 SOaMS ask'd me where the l^ibtes grew ? 
 And nothing I did say : 
 But with my finger pointed to 
 The lips of Julia. 
 Some ask'd how T^earls did grow, and where ? 
 
 Then spoke I to my Girle, 
 To part her lips, and shew'd them there 
 The Quarelets of Pearl. 
 
 ^n yn&UX. all Birds els do of their musick faile 
 ^^ Money's the still-sweet-singing U^ightingale. 
 
 49 
 
1 I 
 
 TH& HoAG. 
 
 H& Hag is astride, 
 This night for to ride ; 
 The Devill and shee together : 
 
 Through thick, and through thin, 
 Now out, and then in, 
 Though ne'er so foule be the weather. 
 
 A Thorn or a Burr 
 
 She takes for a Spurre : 
 With a lash of a Bramble she rides now, 
 
 Through Brakes and through Bryars, 
 
 O're Ditches, and Mires, 
 She foUowes the Spirit that guides now. 
 
 No Beast, for his food, 
 
 Dares now range the wood ; 
 But husht in his laire he lies lurking : 
 
 While mischiefs, by these. 
 
 On Land and on Seas, 
 At noone of Night are a working. 
 
 The storme will arise. 
 
 And trouble the skies ; 
 This night, and more for the wonder, 
 
 The ghost from the Tomb 
 
 Affrighted shall come, 
 Cal'd out by the clap of the Thunder. 
 
 50 
 
iHa; 
 
 ■\S: 
 
 •Kfipid' 
 
 i^HAO 
 
 'e> 
 
 YDeuiBc'fieeiOge 
 
 Me 
 
 BvL-Hvihiirilii.rUlm^iiejivfK 
 Thovgh.-ne>fo.fOYiebe-^\V^d(h^nL-Noon^ "" ■ 
 
 6 
 
 ,„, Jli^^taKerfora-JpvrreO^^?Anc('lovbie>5-6rjtitx- aer 
 
 Tliros^lvBraKepftjOiT-ovHliWKII^QnPrt-fWT^^ 
 jr^efojiON5^ej-.^jpirJt.(na-C>viciejiGard-ov\-by-:fClap3ff-TUm 
 
TO "DqAISI&S, USiOT TO SHUT SO SOOC^S. 
 
 S 
 
 HUT not so soon ; the duU-ey'd night 
 Ha's not as yet begunne 
 To make a seisure on the light, 
 Or to seale up the Sun. 
 
 No Marigolds yet closed are ; 
 
 No shadowes great appeare ; 
 Nor doth the early Shepheards Starre 
 
 Shine like a spangle here. 
 
 Stay but till my Juh'a close 
 
 Her life-begetting eye ; 
 And let the whole world then dispose 
 
 It selfe to live or dye. 
 
 53 
 
FoATiWSLL FTipST Oil WQLCOmG TH& SV^IT^G. 
 
 "W ^LST) are the Frosts, and now the Fields appeare 
 Ml Re-cloth'd in fresh and verdant Diaper. 
 
 Thaw'd are the snowes, and now the lusty Spring 
 Gives to each Mead a neat enameling. 
 The Palms put forth their Gemmes, and every Tree 
 Now swaggers in her Leavy gallantry. 
 The while the T)aultan cMinstrell sweetly sings, 
 With warbling Notes, her Tyrrean sufferings. 
 What gentle Winds perspire ? As if here 
 Never had been the V^orthern Tlunderer 
 To strip the Trees, and Fields, to their distresse. 
 Leaving them to a pittied nakednesse. 
 And look how when a frantick Storme doth tear 
 A stubborn Oake, or Holme (long growing there) 
 But lul'd to cahnnesse, then succeeds a breeze 
 That scarcely stirs the nodding leaves of Trees : 
 So when this War (which tempest-like doth spoil 
 Our salt, our Com, our Honie, Wine, and Oile) 
 Falls to a temper, and doth mildly cast 
 His inconsiderate Frenzie off (at last) 
 The gentle Dove may, when these turmoils cease, 
 Bring in her Bill, once more, the 'branch n/Teace. 
 
 r 
 
 TO cM6T>'D0WSS 
 
 6 have been fresh and green, 
 
 Ye have been fill'd with flowers : 
 And ye the Walks have been 
 
 Where maids have spent their houres. 
 
 You 
 
 54 
 
Y' ^^tt* >fn frciTi Ani gr^^n 
 
 ■ye Kan*^ b*fn frll'i -wjih. fP*«V^' 
 Aivi J-c -the ■*r&l^-' Iiam*^ I>een. 
 
 WX*!-* jnuiJ- JxA«.e Vfit th^jr A" 
 
 WjtK -wi'K't Arftj- did "w* 
 
 And /"n. fK«S,v in « r-vn 
 T,A'h airfin,JO<= a ffn 
 
 ■>n?. 
 
 ^Wvor= fil'urie f«et did ire*d. 
 And '«'iiK difKeu=JJ'd Ktire. 
 AdTn'd thi/ fjiio*i}^r meftd. 
 
 Lik* vnthrift^. JtAuinj ij>«nt 
 "^vr* fto=K, And. J^''^^ JrVn. 
 
You have beheld, how they 
 
 With Wtc^er oArks did come 
 
 To kisse, and beare away 
 
 The richer Couslips home. 
 
 Y'ave heard them sweetly sing, 
 And see them in a Round : 
 
 Each Virgin, like a Spring, 
 
 With Honv-succles crown'd. 
 
 But now, we see, none here. 
 
 Whose silv'rie feet did tread, 
 
 And with dishevell'd Haire, 
 
 Adorn'd this smoother Mead. 
 
 Like Unthrifts, having spent. 
 
 Your stock, and needy gown, 
 
 Y'are left here to lament 
 
 Your poore estates, alone. 
 
 TO TH6, liPSS. SOT^G. 
 
 ^^~yOS happy Rose, and enterwove 
 ■ 'W' With other Flowers, bind my Love. 
 ^y Tell her too, she must not be, 
 
 Longer flowing, longer free, 
 
 That so oft has fetter'd me. 
 
 Say (if she's fretfull) I have bands 
 
 Of Pearle, and Gold, to bind her hands : 
 
 Tell her, if she struggle still, 
 
 I have Mirtle rods, (at will) 
 
 For to tame, though not to kill. 
 
 Take 
 57 
 
Take thou my blessing, thus, and goe, 
 And tell her this, but doe not so, 
 Lest a handsome anger flye. 
 Like a Lightning, from her eye, 
 And burn thee'up, as well as L 
 
 TO TH6> WGST&T<p<i WIT^T). 
 
 S 
 
 W&QT Western Wind, whose luck it is, 
 (Made rivall with the aire) 
 To give 'Terennds lip a kisse. 
 And fan her wanton haire. 
 
 Bring me but one. He promise thee, 
 Instead of common showers, 
 
 Thy wings shall be embalm'd by me, 
 And all beset with flowers. 
 
 HIS C(:AVQALm% 
 
 ^^rOS, me that man, th-at dares bestride 
 m IT The active Sea-horse, y with pride, 
 
 ^ Through that hugh field of waters ride: 
 Who, with his looks too, can appease 
 The ruffling winds and raging Seas, 
 In mid'st of all their outrages. 
 This, this a virtuous man can doe, 
 Saile against Rocks, and split them too ; 
 I ! and a world of Pikes passe through. 
 
 58 
 
Hi^^ C2x.ualier 
 
 Gj.ir 
 
 Th.e aL-^tiue oT^a-Korfe £j- VkK pride ' 
 Thr'^vgK ih^t hvge field of Wi^r^ rict^- 
 NVh.o, wiih Kij- looitj- too c^lr ^ppe^fc 
 
 la mid'fi q°aJl iheir Ovtrag^/^ ^ f^. 
 
 This, thij- <5L ulrivovj- y^^n ^s^a doe 
 ^yi^^iie ev^gstiuffPocv^ ^rid: fpui th.em too; 
 If sends. Worlch-^f plK^j- pa,fj-e. iriTOvg'h. 
 
C&T{&m07<imS FOTi^ CHTilSTdMcASSS. 
 
 f' OdM6, bring with a noise, 
 ^-^ My merrie merrie boyes, 
 The Christmas Log to the firing ; 
 While my good Dame, she, 
 Bids ye all be free ; 
 And drink to your hearts desiring. 
 
 With the last yeeres brand 
 
 Light the new block. And 
 For good successe m his spending. 
 
 On your Psaltries play. 
 
 That sweet luck may 
 Come while the Log is a teending. 
 
 Drink now the strong Beere, 
 
 Cut the white loafe here, 
 The while the meat is a shredding ; 
 
 For the rare Mince-Pie 
 
 And the Plums stand by 
 To fill the Paste that's a kneading. 
 
 TH6 CGTiGMONIGS F0% CcAN'DL&moASSS, DAY. 
 
 K 
 
 IC\T)LS the Christmas Brand and then 
 Till Sunne-set, let it burne ; 
 Which quencht, then lay it up agen. 
 Till Christmas next returne. 
 
 Part must be kept wherewith to teend 
 The Christmas Log next yeare ; 
 
 And where 'tis safely kept, the Fiend, 
 Can do no mischiefe (there.) 
 
 61 
 
HIS T06TTiI6 HIS TILLcA% 
 
 0CP^6LY a little more 
 I have to write, 
 Then He give o're, 
 And bid the world Good-night. 
 
 'Tis but a flying minute, 
 That I must stay, 
 Or linger in it ; 
 
 And then I must away. 
 
 O time that cut'st down all ! 
 
 And scarce leav'st here 
 
 Memoriall 
 Of any men that were. 
 
 How many lye forgot 
 
 In Vaults beneath ? 
 And piece-meale rot 
 
 Without a fame in death ? 
 
 Behold this living stone, 
 I reare for me, 
 Ne'r to be thrown 
 
 Downe, envious Time by thee. 
 
 Pillars let some set up, 
 (If so they please) 
 Here is my hope, 
 
 And my Tyramides. 
 
 62 
 

 %^- 
 
 TK'a III Jiu' °iT 
 V\ni kid (li« w'YU jo'tiiiigh- 
 
 TlV tv( a flying minvte 
 
 Or iing'r in ii 
 ^nd ilifn I mvfi. iwi/ 
 
 O Tnn' ihil 'vift (fwn «.ll 
 <^.r.i f'a.T« i'iuft h^r' 
 
 of any pi'n that, «'r' 
 
 hiV Plllfl) 
 
 H°w many \y' forj** 
 In ua.vllJ' !>'ii<illh. 
 5\jid pit«m'Al' r°t . 
 ViUiOvt a K»i« in d<iJh. 
 
 ,B"'h°Ia IhiJ- 'iuinj fion'i 
 
 I r'Ai' for .m'. 
 
 N«r 1° bt \hr°vn 
 j)uvp enuiovy Tim* Jjy' th*^^ 
 
 Pillarj- 1=1 f°m« f«i vp 
 If f" ihfy fl'Afe 
 ■li'r' // my hop* 
 ^d my pyrnmidv 
 
qA T&TiP<iQATiI& OF LITTL&S, UTO^ cA "PITKIU^ 
 OF J&LLI& S&U^T TO oA LqAT> Y. 
 
 ^ 
 
 Little Saint best fits a little Shrine, 
 A little prop best fits a little Vine, 
 As my small Cruse best fits my little Wine. 
 
 A little Seed best fits a little Soyle, 
 A little Trade best fits a little Toyle : 
 As my small Jarre best fits my little Oyle. 
 
 A little Bin best fits a little Bread, 
 A little Garland fits a little Head : 
 As my small stufFe best fits my little Shed. 
 
 A little Hearth best fits a little Fire, 
 
 A little Chappell fits a little Quire, 
 
 As my small Bell best fits my little Spire. 
 
 A little streame best fits a little Boat ; 
 
 A little lead best fits a little Float ; 
 
 As my small Pipe best fits my little note. 
 
 A little meat best fits a little bellie. 
 
 As sweetly Lady, give me leave to tell ye, 
 
 This little Pipkin fits this little Jellie. 
 
 cA m&'DnQATlOV^ FOTi HIS dMIST1{6SSS. 
 
 T 
 
 OU are a Tulip seen to day. 
 
 But (Dearest) of so short a stay ; 
 
 That where you grew, scarce man can say. 
 
 You 
 65 
 
You are a lovely July-flower, 
 
 Yet one rude wind, or ruffling shower, 
 
 Will force you hence, (and in an houre.) 
 
 You are a sparkling '^se i'th'bud. 
 Yet lost, ere that chast flesh and blood 
 Can shew where vou or grew, or stood. 
 
 You are a full-spread faire-set Vine, 
 And can with Tendrills love intwine, 
 Yet dry'd, ere you distill your Wine. 
 
 You are like Balme inclosed (well) 
 In oAmber, or some Chry stall shell, 
 Yet lost ere you transfuse your smell. 
 
 You are a dainty 'Violet, 
 
 Yet wither'd, ere you can be set 
 
 Within the Virgin's Coronet. 
 
 You are the Queen all flowers among, 
 But die you must (faire Maid) ere long, 
 As He, the maker of this Song. 
 
 L 
 
 TO 'B(S ^M^'RyC^. 
 
 €TS now take our time ; 
 While w'are in our Prime; 
 And old, old Age is a farre off : 
 For the evill evill dayes 
 Will come on apace ; 
 Before we can be aware of. 
 
 66 
 
COTil^^QC^QcA'S GOIT^G oA <£MQAY17HiG. 
 
 y^^&T up, get up for shame, the Blooming Morne 
 m TT Upon her wings presents the god unshorne. 
 ^y See how oAurora throwes her faire 
 
 Fresh-quiked colours through the aire : 
 Get up, sweet-Slug-a-bed, and see 
 The Dew-bespangling Herbe and Tree. 
 Each Flower has wept, and bow'd toward the East, 
 Above an houre since ; yet you not drest, 
 Nay ! not so much as out of bed ? 
 When all the Birds have Mattens seyd, 
 And sung their thankfuU Hymnes : 'tis sin. 
 
 69 
 
 Nay, 
 
Nay, profanation to keep in, 
 When as a thousand Virgins on this day. 
 Spring, sooner than the Lark, to fetch in May. 
 
 71 
 
 Rise ; 
 
Rise ; and put on your Foliage, and be scene 
 
 To come forth, like the Spring-time, fresh and greene ; 
 
 And sweet as Flora. Take no care 
 
 For Jewels for your Gowne, or Haire : 
 
 Feare not ; the leaves will strew 
 
 Gemms in abundance upon you : 
 Besides, the childhood of the Day has kept, 
 Against you come, some Orient Pearls unwept : 
 
 Come, and receive them while the light 
 
 Hangs on the Dew-locks of the night : 
 
 And Titan on the Eastern hill 
 
 Retires himselfe, or else stands still 
 Till you come forth. Wash, dresse, be briefe in praymg 
 Few Beads are best, when once we goe a Maying. 
 
 11 
 
 Come, 
 
^r 
 
 d 
 
 Come, my Corinna, come ; and coming, marke 
 
 How each field turns a street ; each street a Parke 
 Made green, and trimm'd with trees : see how 
 Devotion gives each House a Bough, 
 Or Branch : Each Porch, each doore, ere this 
 An Arke a Tabernacle is 
 
 Made up of white-thorn neatly enterwove ; 
 
 As if here were those cooler shades of love. 
 Can such delights be in the street. 
 And open fields, and we not see't ? 
 Come, we'll abroad ; and let's obay 
 The Proclamation made for May : 
 
 And sin no more, as we have done, by staying ; 
 
 But my CorinnUy come, let's goe a Maying. 
 
 75 
 
 There's 
 
There's not a budding Boy, or Girle, this day, 
 But is got up, and gone to bring in May. 
 A deale of Youth, ere this, is come 
 Back, with White-thorn laden home. 
 Some have dispatcht their Cakes and Creame, 
 Before that we have left to dreame : 
 And some have wept, and woo'd, and plighted Troth, 
 And chose their Priest, ere we can cast off sloth • 
 Many a green-gown has been given ; 
 Manv a kisse, both odde and even : 
 Many a glance too has been sent 
 From out the eye. Loves Firmament : 
 Many a jest told of the Keyes betraying 
 This night, and Locks pickt, yet w'are not a Maying. 
 
 Come, 
 
 n 
 
Come, let us goe, while we are in our prime ; 
 And take the harmlesse follie of the time. 
 
 We shall grow old apace, and die 
 
 Before we know our liberty. 
 
 Our life is short ; and our dayes run 
 
 As fast away as do's the Sunne : 
 And as a vapour, or a drop of raine 
 Once lost, can ne'r be found againe : 
 
 So when or vou or I are made 
 
 A fable, song, or fleeting shade ; 
 
 All love, all liking, all delight 
 
 Lies drown'd with us in endlesse night. 
 Then while time serves, and we are but decaying ; 
 Come, my Corinna, come, let's goe a Maying. 
 
 79 
 
THQ mcAT> moAIDS SOUHiG. 
 
 Q 
 
 001) morrow to the Day so fair ; 
 Good morning Sir to you : 
 Good morrow to mine own torn hair 
 Bedabled with the dew. 
 
 Good morning to this Prim-rose too ; 
 
 Good morrow to each maid ; 
 That will with flowers the Tomb bestrew, 
 
 Wherein my Love is laid. 
 
 Ah woe is me, woe, woe is me, 
 
 Alack and welladay ! 
 For pitty, Sir, find out that Bee, 
 
 Which bore mv Love awav. 
 
 rie seek him in your bonnet brave ; 
 
 He seek him in your eyes ; 
 Nay, now I think th'ave made his grave 
 
 I'th'bed of strawburies. 
 
 He seek him there ; I know, ere this^ 
 
 The cold, cold Earth doth shake him ; 
 But I will go, or send a kisse 
 By you, Sir, to awake him. 
 
 Pray hurt him not ; though he be dead, 
 He knowes well who do love him. 
 
 And who with green-turfes reare his head, 
 And who do rudelv move him. 
 
 He's soft and tender (Pray take heed) 
 With bands of Cow-slips bind him ; 
 
 And bring him home, but 'tis decreed, 
 That I shall never find him. 
 
 «o 
 
j^^nrmv^^c^j- ^o^a^ 
 
'^V 
 
 t t 
 
 • 
 
qA "BUCOLICK "B&TWIXT TWO: 
 Lacon and Thvrsis. 
 
 Lacon. 
 
 Thyr. 
 
 Thyr. 
 
 i 
 
 F 
 
 *0'?^a kiss or two, confesse, 
 What doth cause this pensiveness ? 
 Thou most lovely Neat-heardesse : 
 Why so lonely on the hill ? 
 Why thy pipe by thee so still, 
 That ere while was heard so shrill ? 
 
 Tell me, do thy kine now fail 
 
 To fulfill the milkin-paile ? 
 
 Sav, what is't that thou do'st aile ? 
 
 None of these ; but out, alas ! 
 A mischance is come to pass. 
 And rie tell thee what it was : 
 See mine eyes are weeping ripe, 
 Lacon. Tell, and I'le lay down my Pipe. 
 
 I have lost my lovely steere. 
 That to me was far more deer 
 Then these kine, which I milke here. 
 Board of fore-head, large of eye, 
 Party colour'd like a Pie ; 
 Smooth in each limb as a die ; 
 Clear of hoof, and clear of horn ; 
 Sharply pointed as a thorn : 
 With a neck by yoke unworn. 
 From the which hung down by strings, 
 Balls of Cowslips, Daisie rings, 
 Enterplac't with ribbanings. 
 Faultless every way for shape ; 
 Not a straw co'd him escape ; 
 Ever gamesome as an ape : 
 
 83 
 
 But 
 
Lacon. 
 
 But yet harmless as a sheep. 
 
 (Pardon, Lacon if I weep) 
 
 Tears will spring, where woes are deep. 
 
 Now (ai me) (ai me.) Last night 
 
 Came a mad dog, and did bite, 
 
 I, and kil'd my dear delight. 
 
 Lacon. Alack for grief ! 
 Thyr. But Tie be brief, 
 
 Hence I must, for time doth call 
 Me, and my sad Play-mates all, 
 To his Ev'ning Funeral!. 
 Live long, Lacon, so adew. 
 Mournful maid farewell to you ; 
 S>arth afford ye flowers to strew. 
 
 TH6. ToATiC^, or, THTi&& D^IU^TY D&STIU^I&S . 
 
 THS qA'K^IILST. 
 
 rH1{66 lovely Sisters working were 
 (As they were closely set) 
 Of soft and daintv Maiden-haire, 
 A curious oArmclet. 
 I smiling, ask'd them what thev did ? 
 
 (Faire T)cstinies all three) 
 Who told me, thev had drawn a thred 
 
 of Life, and 'twas for me. 
 They shew'd me then, how fine 'twas spun ; 
 
 And I replv'd thereto, 
 I care not now how soone 'tis done. 
 Or cut, if cut by you. 
 
 84 
 
ttL^ Tar-^df, "r , TJ(J« ])ainii<= Jl^ftini^j- TJ^^^^T-m^'Jet 
 
 l„ 
 
 
 
 (; '^f foft and daiinty /*\^ide)l-l^.a.lr<- 
 
 >j,^ A "^vfiovj' ArnitleL \=^- 
 
 >, , I fmilinge- a,f KM tlifm wKcvi ih^y did 
 
 >;' v^^ \fh° loldme (hey had drawn a. llvr^4 
 "■^^ ^^ ; ^i Lif*- a.i'A 'twa,r for mt- , 
 
 /''"^V TA«y f howcl M* tVn. Jiow fine Wir ftvn 
 
 Of «vt , if cvt by ^"v. 
 
TH& WILLOW GdATiLcA^Nil). 
 
 a. 
 
 Willow Garland thou did'st send 
 
 Perfum'd (last day) to me : 
 Which did but only this portend, 
 I was forsooke bv thee. 
 
 Since so it is ; He tell thee what, 
 To morrow thou shalt see 
 
 Me weare the Willow ; after that, 
 To dve upon the Tree. 
 
 As Beasts unto the Altars go 
 
 With Garlands drest, so I 
 
 Will, with my Willow-wreath also, 
 Come forth and sweetlv dve. 
 
 UTOC\ SMTiS. &LIZ: WH66LS% UJ^T)Q% TH6 
 T^cAcMS OF qA<£MqAT{ILLIS. 
 
 SWS6T oAmarillis^ by a Spring's 
 Soft and soule-melting murmurings, 
 Slept ; and thus sleeping, thither flew 
 A Ti^bin-'^ed brest ; who at view, 
 Not seeing her at all to stir, 
 Brought leaves and mosse to cover her : 
 But while he, perking, there did prie 
 About the Arch of either eye ; 
 The lid began to let out day ; 
 At which poore 'Kobin flew amay : 
 And seeing her not dead, but all disleav'd ; 
 He chirpt for joy, to see himself disceav'd. 
 
 87 
 
qA "DIqALOGUG "BQTWIXT HIdMSSLF6 (:A7<i'D 
 
 qMISTT{&SS& &LIZqA: WH&&L&% UC^fDSTi 
 
 TH6 C^C^SM6 OF oAmcATilLLIS 
 
 JH 
 
 Y dearest Love, since thou wilt go, 
 And leave me here behind thee ; 
 
 For love or pitie let me know 
 
 The place where I may find thee. 
 
 oAmaril. In country Meadowes pearl'd with Dew, 
 And set about with Lillies ; 
 There filling Maunds with Cowslips, you 
 May find your oAmarillis. 
 
 Her. What have the Meades to do with thee, 
 
 Or with thy youthful! houres ? 
 Live thou at Court, where thou mayst be 
 The Queen of men, not flowers. 
 
 Let Country wenches make'em fine 
 With Posies, since 'tis fitter 
 
 For thee with richest Jemmes to shine, 
 And like the Starres to glitter. 
 
 oAmaril. You set too high a rate upon 
 
 A Shepheardess so homely ; 
 
 Her. Believe it (dearest) ther's not one 
 
 I'th' Court that's halfe so comly. 
 
 I prithee stay. foAm.J I must away, 
 Lets kiss first, then we'l sever. 
 cAmbo. And though we bid adieu to day. 
 Wee shall not part for ever. 
 
 88 
 

 e A ffi 
 
 t^ ^ o <a ^~ 
 
 
 TAj^ dfa.-r«fl I°«.«,' fi-^''° 1^°-' *i"- S° 
 Tjl^ pla^*- wh'T' 2 m^y ftnd. tn««- 
 
 In <^°vnu-y m«a.dP-»-«J- pea-Tl'd wJtK de*. 
 
 T}l'r«- flllinS^e JiiA.vndJ- with =°«rfli});-, 
 71?.>- fina y''vr S\7na.Tini>r. 
 
 What Kau* I'W' m^adv t» d" ■j-ofti lh«| 
 
 T>^^ covn-f.l-J' "'^•^'^h?-'' jnaK* "em fin' 
 Wni like ^ ftAfr^r t° g'Hti«'r. 
 
 V<»Y !«•* -too Jii§K a. TAte vjj'/i 
 
 I'fh." '^''^■r* *'^*'-^ ^"^^^^ ^° '""'"i/ 
 
 J/i./ K)i/-*^ fir A ^?ji -9<^'J K^'j" 
 
 And. '.h°' ^* iiid enUv I'd*!' 
 
 e-AAbbty stp II iCTo— ^1 
 
WHY FLOW&T^S CHcJC\^G6 COLOUT^S. 
 
 rHSSS fresh beauties (we can prove) 
 Once were Virgins sick of love, 
 Turn'd to Flowers. Still in some 
 Colours goe, and colours come. 
 
 / Cc^LL qAU^T> I CoALL. 
 
 /Call, I call, who doe ye call ? 
 The Maids to catch this Cowslip-ball 
 But since these Cowslips fading be, 
 Troth, leave the flowers, and Maids, take me. 
 Yet, if that neither you will doe. 
 Speak but the word, and lie take you. 
 
 91 
 
1H& OUD WIV&S T'KqAYG'K, 
 
 Y TOL Y-Ti001) come forth and shield 
 /~T Us i'th'Citie, and the Field : 
 Safely guard us, now and aye, 
 
 From the blast that burns by day ; 
 
 And those sounds that us affright. 
 
 In -the dead of dampish night 
 
 Drive all hurtfull Feinds us fro. 
 
 By the Time the Cocks first crow. 
 
 /'^~^0'pr5\] with the Rosemary, and so 
 k I t Down with the Bales, Jff mistletoe : 
 
 Down with the Holly, Ivie, all, 
 Wherewith ye drest the Christmas Hall : 
 That so the superstitious find 
 No one least Branch there left behind : 
 For look how many leaves there be 
 Neglected there (maids trust to me) 
 So many Goblins you shall see. 
 
 CH1{ISTdMcJS-6V6, cAT^OTH&Tl CS1{6^M0CXIS. 
 
 C 
 
 OdM6 guard this night the Christmas-Pie, 
 That the Thiefe, though ne'r so slie, 
 With his Flesh-hooks, don't come nie 
 
 To catch it 
 
 From him, who all alone sits there, 
 Having his eyes still in his eare, 
 And a deale of nightly feare 
 
 To watch it. 
 
 92 
 

 
 ^^^9^ 
 
 )''=n- Kur. , WKo -xH al°rv'' fit/ ©O^-i- 
 
 'ISEE'; 
 
 
 U-;„;.:.^.,.i„ 
 
* < r 
 
 e ■ • 
 
vpON • ' 
 
 EVE 
 
 . 
 
 J 
 
"BY WHICH SOm&Tim&S H& LIV&D. 
 
 y^n^&oAU^-'BOU'Rp^, farewell ; I never look to see 
 k # B T>eane, or thy warty incivility. 
 
 Thy rockie bottome, that doth teare thy streams, 
 And makes them frantick, ev'n to all extreames ; 
 To my content, I never sho'd behold, 
 Were thy streames silver, or thy rocks all gold. 
 Rockie thou art ; and rockie we discover 
 Thy men ; and rockie are thy wayes all over. 
 O men, O manners ; Now, and ever knowne 
 To be qA T^ckie Generation / 
 A people currish ; churlish as the seas ; 
 And rude (almost) as rudest Salvages. 
 With whom I did, and may re-sojourne when 
 Rockes turn to Rivers, Rivers turn to Men. 
 
 97 
 
TO HIS ^MqAIT> TliSW. 
 
 rHQSQ Summer-'^irds did with thy Master stay 
 The times of warmth ; but then they flew away ; 
 Leaving their Poet (being now grown old) 
 Expos'd to all the comming Winters cold. 
 But thou kind T^rew did'st with my Fates abide, 
 As well the Winters, as the Summers Tide : 
 For which thy Love, live with thy Master here, 
 Not two, but all the seasons of the yeare. 
 
 HSIi. SICIOKSSSS. 
 
 /^T^TiJjQ, my dearest Maid, is sick, 
 • M"^ Almost to a Lunatick : 
 
 ^sculapius I come and bring 
 Means for her recovering ; 
 And a gallant Cock shall be 
 Offer'd up by Her, to Thee. 
 
 VPOU^ T%§> W HIS eMcAIT). 
 
 /^ this little Urne is laid 
 Trewdence 'Baldwin (once my maid) 
 From whose happy spark here let 
 Spring the purple Violet. 
 
 98 
 
•T° y^-j- /^&-y^^ Vr^-^ 
 
 i3v«f« {vmnEr-tifdJ' did -wiQi t>iy waft^r fCa.y 
 Ths tiraej* of ■•^AVmih. i hv< <3i«H iKey fie-w siwa-y; 
 L^auinj- ftl«ir Jjoet . 'being n°-<n gT°-vn oJd ^ "^JK. 
 
 Exjiof'd to A)! the <^°JT>7Tiin§ winter-r "^oJd 
 3v( th.ov, Kini Pr^w, diiiH wOi my fa.tV atbide 
 
 T°r -wKioJi »hy lov.e., liix.e ^wi^ -eh/ maft^r Iv«re R- H^rri <^K 
 
 IMot. two fovt alt the feiJ^onj- of t^e y«iire- 
 
TO 'PT{I<zMT{OS&S FILLT> WITH qMOT<^IU^G 
 
 "DQW. 
 
 Cf ^ \HY doe ye weep, sweet Babes ? can Tears 
 LSI) Speak griefe in you, 
 
 Who were but borne 
 Just as the modest Morne 
 Teem'd her refreshing dew ? 
 Alas you have not known that shower, 
 That marres a flower ; 
 Nor felt th'unkind 
 Breath of a blasting wind ; 
 Nor are ye worne with yeares ; 
 
 Or warpt, as we, 
 Who think it strange to see, 
 Such pretty flowers, (Hke to Orphans young) 
 To speak by Teares, before ye have a Tongue. 
 
 Speak, whimp'ring Younglings, and make known 
 The reason, why 
 Ye droop, and weep ; 
 Is it for want of sleep ? 
 Or childish LuUabie ; 
 Or that ye have not seen as yet 
 The 'Violet f 
 Or brought a kisse 
 From that Sweet-heart, to this ? 
 No, no, this sorrow shown 
 By your teares shed, 
 Wo'd have this Lecture read, 
 That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, 
 Conceiv'd with grief are, and with teares brought forth. 
 
 lOI 
 
w 
 
 TO VI0L6TS. 
 
 &LCOm& Maids of Honour, 
 You doe bring 
 In the Spring ; 
 And wait upon her. 
 
 She has Virgins many, 
 Fresh and faire ; 
 Yet you are 
 
 More sweet then any. 
 
 Y'are the Maiden Posies, 
 And so grac't. 
 To be plac't, 
 
 'Fore Damask Roses. 
 
 Yet though thus respected, 
 
 By and by 
 
 Ye doe lie, 
 Poore Girles, neglected. 
 
 / 
 
 UTOUHi L0V6. 
 
 HSUD Love's head while it did ake ; 
 
 But so it chanc't to be ; 
 The cruell paine did his forsake. 
 And forthwith came to me. 
 
 Ai me ! How shal my griefe be stil'd ? 
 
 Or where else shall we find 
 One like to me, who must be kill'd 
 
 For being too — too — kind ? 
 
 I02 
 
f 
 
 
u!2SKQ me why I send you here 
 This sweet Infanta of the yeere ? 
 
 Aske me why I send to you 
 This Primrose, thus bepearl'd with dew ? 
 
 I will whisper to your eares, 
 The sweets of Love are mixt with tears. 
 
 Ask me why this flower do's show 
 So yellow-green, and sickly too ? 
 
 Ask me why the stalk is weak 
 And bending, (yet it doth not break ? 
 
 I will answer. These discover 
 What fainting hopes are in a Lover. 
 
 TO qMISTT(&SSG KdATHGTil^NiG 'BT^'DSHcAW. 
 
 THS L0V6LY, THcAT CTipWC\_6T) 
 
 HIdM WITH LqAUH^L. 
 
 It /JT Y Muse in Meads has spent her many houres, 
 m y f m Sitting, and sorting severall sorts of flowers, 
 
 To make for others garlands ; and to set 
 On many a head here, many a Coronet : 
 But, amongst All encircled here, not one 
 Gave her a day of Coronation ; 
 Till you (sweet Mistresse) came and enterwove 
 A Laurel for her, (ever young as love) 
 You first of all crown'd her ; she must of due, 
 Render for that, a crowne of life to vou. 
 
 105 
 
qA Z)0W to Z>SC^QUS. 
 
 H 
 
 c^'P'P/Zrihadasight 
 Of my dearest deare last night; 
 Make her this day smile on me, 
 And He Roses give to thee. 
 
 VPO:?^ dMIST1l€SS€ SUScAC^^T^Qj SOUTHW&LL 
 H&%_ CH6SKS. 
 
 (R 
 
 oATiQ are thy cheeks Susanna, which do show 
 Ripe Cherries smiling, while that others blow. 
 
 UTOCX H&%_ S Y&S. 
 
 ^^L&&%§, are her eyes, 
 
 ^^ Like purest Skies. 
 Discovering from thence 
 
 A Babie there 
 
 That turns each Sphere, 
 Like an Intelligence. 
 
 VPOU^ HGTl F&&T. 
 
 ILT STi^pretty feet 
 ^ -^ Like snailes did creep 
 A little out, and then, 
 As if thev played at Bo-peep, 
 Did soon draw in agen. 
 
 1 06 
 
V]bOn,./\-iftr*fj-e • Jvfannsi. • JOvthNce]] ■ h^r ■^Xg'jt 
 
 T^r= are thy ^}S^H-r ^viknnA. ■vhi'^h dp Ihe-wr 
 Jfipe *5i«Tri'-r fmijing while t Ka.t "Oyr j- W"^ 
 
 <-^l«i-e a.Te Ttfr «'iex 
 I,i3te ^vr*ft flUV 
 
 ']iJ--'->i>^ 
 
 /f 
 
 ''(^.\, JVp on h'r T^^ t 
 9^. ]ml« °vt, afici th^iv 
 
 Did i°°n. drd.w in Ag*?^ 
 
HOW "P^TeM'liOSSS CcAdMQ G1i€67^. 
 
 V 
 
 I'J^GIUSiS, time-past, known were these, 
 
 Troubled with Green-sicknesses, 
 ■ Turn'd to flowers : Stil the hieu, 
 Sicklv Girles, thev beare of vou. 
 
 109 
 
qA CqAU^TICLQ to iA'POLLO. 
 
 <p 
 
 LcA Y Thmbus on thy Lute ; 
 And we will, all sit mute : 
 By listning to thy Lire, 
 That sets all eares on fire. 
 
 Hark, harke, the God do's play ! 
 And as he leads the way 
 Through heaven, the very Spheres, 
 As men, turne all to eares. 
 
 S 
 
 UTOU^ JULIdAS VOICS. 
 
 O smooth, so sweet, so silv'ry is thy voice. 
 
 As, could they hear, the Damn'd would make no noise. 
 But listen to thee, (walking in thy chamber) 
 Melting melodious words, to Lutes of Amber. 
 
 oAU^OTH&Ti^ U'POT^H&Tl W&G'PIT^G. 
 
 S 
 
 H6 by the River sate, and sitting there. 
 She wept, and made it deeper by a teare. 
 
 no 
 
p]\e by -Oie Riufr 'fa.te ^ fitting -Ch^rt 
 
/ 
 
 70 &L&CT%qA. 
 
 dare not ask a kisse ; 
 
 I dare not beg a smile ; 
 Lest having that, or this, 
 
 I might grow proud the while. 
 
 r 
 
 No, no, the utmost share 
 Of my desire, shall be 
 
 Onely to kisse that Aire, 
 That lately kissed thee. 
 
 0C\ LOVS>, 
 
 LOZ)€ bade me aske a gift, 
 And I no more did move, 
 But this, that I might shift 
 Still with my clothes, my Love 
 That favour granted was ; 
 
 Since which, though I love many, 
 Yet so it comes to passe, 
 That long I love not any. 
 
 U'POUSi HimS&LF. 
 
 HOU shalt not All die ; for while Love's fire shines 
 Upon his Altar, men shall read thy lines ; 
 And learn'd Musicians shall to honour Herricks 
 Fame, and his Name, both set and sing his Lyricks. 
 
 "3 
 
TH& %ciAI7^'B0W: OT<^CUT{IOUS C OV^T^qAT^T . 
 
 It /JT IU^& eyes, like clouds, were drizling raine 
 m y f i And as they thus did entertaine 
 
 The gentle Beams from Julia?, sight 
 To mine eyes level'd opposite : 
 O Thing admir'd ! there did appeare 
 A curious Rainbow smiling there ; 
 Which was the Covenant, that she 
 No more wo'd drown mine eyes, or me. 
 
 THG, "BTiciAC&L&T TO JULIoA. 
 
 Cf ^ \HY I tye about thy wrist, 
 ij^/ Julia^ this my silken twist 
 For what other reason is't, 
 But to shew thee how in part. 
 Thou my pretty Captive art ? 
 But thv Bondslave is mv heart : 
 'Tis but silke that bindeth thee, 
 Knap the thread, and thou art free : 
 But 'tis otherwise with me ; 
 I am bound, and fast bound so. 
 That from thee I cannot go ; 
 If I co'd, I wo'd not so. 
 
 
 
 THG TiOScATilE. 
 
 I7\^<S ask'd me where the Roses grew ? 
 I bade him not goe seek ; 
 But forthwith bade my Julia shew 
 A bud in either cheek. 
 
 114 
 
Th? B'-a"'!"! ♦" H'*" 
 
SO:?<iG. HIS miSTRIS TO HIeM oAT HIS 
 
 FqAT^'&LL. 
 
 rOU mav vow He not forgett 
 To pay the debt, 
 Which to thy Memorie stands as due 
 As faith can seale It you 
 Take then tribute of my teares 
 
 So long as I have feares 
 To prompt mee, I shall euer 
 Languish and looke but thy returne see neuer 
 Oh then to lessen my dispaire 
 Print thy lips Into the ayre 
 So by this 
 Meanes I may kisse thy kisse 
 when as some kinde 
 winde 
 Shall hither waft it and In Hew 
 My lipps shall send a looo back to you. 
 
 Ro : herrick. 
 
 HIS Ti&QUQST TO JULIoA 
 
 /VLIqA, if I chance to die 
 Ere I print my Poetry ; 
 I most humblv thee desire 
 To commit it to the fire : 
 Better 'twere my Book were dead, 
 Then to live not perfected. 
 
 117 
 
UTOT^ HIS KIUX,SW0dMcJ:7^ dMISTRIS 
 &LIZqA'B&TH H&T<T{ICK. 
 
 SWS6T virgin, that I do not set 
 The pillars up of weeping yef, 
 Or mournfull oMarble ; let thy shade 
 Not wrathfull seem, or fright the Maide, 
 Who hither at her wonted howers 
 Shall come to strew thy earth with flowers. 
 No, know (Blest Maide) when there's not one 
 Remainder left of Brasse or stone, 
 Thy living Epitaph shall be, 
 Though lost in them, yet found in me. 
 Dear, in thy bed of 1{pses, then, 
 Till this world shall dissolve as men, 
 Sleep, while we hide thee from the light. 
 Drawing thy curtains round : Good night. 
 
 ^ 
 
 cAU^TH&qA'S "BSTTioACTIOU^. 
 
 ^U^THSqA laught, and fearing lest pxcesse 
 Might stretch the cords of civill comelinesse: 
 She with a dainty blush rebuk't her face ; 
 And cal'd each line back to his rule and space. 
 
 TO oAT^iTH&cA. 
 
 SICK is oAnthea, sickly is the spring, : 
 The Primrose sick, and sickly every thing : 
 The while my deer oAnthea do's but droop, 
 The Tulips^ Lilltes, T)affadtlls do stoop ; 
 But when again sh'as got her healthfuU houre. 
 Each bending then, will rise a proper flower. 
 
 ii8 
 
I 
 
 Ji'h (X AntK'A i"i''JiJy 1^ the Jfrmg 
 Th« while my d«<»- 5\m)\'i dov bvt droop 
 
 Bvt ^h.n fcj^in. /h'*r g»t Kr^ hf^JthfvJl h'^-vrC 
 
TH& WqAKQ. 
 
 ^^OqMS oAnthea let us two 
 f / Go to Feast, as others do. 
 
 Tarts and Custards, Creams and Cakes, 
 Are the Junketts still at Wakes : 
 Unto which the Tribes resort. 
 Where the businesse is the sport : 
 Morris-dancers thou shalt see, 
 Marian too in Pagentrie : 
 And a Mimick to devise 
 Many grinning properties. 
 Players there will be, and those 
 Base in action as in clothes : 
 Yet with strutting they will please 
 The incurious Villages. 
 Neer the dying of the day, 
 There will be a Cudgell-Vlay, 
 Where a Coxcomb will be broke, 
 Ere a good word can be spoke : 
 But the anger ends all here, 
 Drencht in Ale, or drown'd in Beere. 
 Happy Rusticks, best content 
 With the cheapest Merriment : 
 And possesse no other feare, 
 Then to want the Wake next Yeare. 
 
 UTOUX. ^MUCH-oMOTiG. &TIG. 
 
 M 
 
 UCH-MOT{§,, provides, and hoords up like an Ant; 
 Yet oMuch-more still complains he is in want. 
 Let oMuch-more justly pay his tythes; then tr)' 
 How both his Meale and Oile will multiply. 
 
 121 
 
TO JULI(yl. 
 
 /^I \S%£MIT me, Ju/t'a, now to goe away ; 
 ^ y"^ Or by thy love, decree me here to stay. 
 
 If thou wilt say, that I shall live with thee ; 
 Here shall my endless Tabernacle be : 
 If not, (as banisht) I will live alone 
 There, where no langnage ever yet was known. 
 
 THS C^^IGHT-TISCE, TO JULIoA. 
 
 'Y' jf^ST^Eyes the Glow-worme lend thee, 
 / / The Shooting Starres attend thee ; 
 And the Elves also, 
 Whose little eyes glow. 
 Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee. 
 
 No Wtll-o'th'- Wtspe mis-light thee ; 
 Nor Snake, or Slow-worme bite thee : 
 
 But on, on thy way 
 
 Not making a stay, 
 Since Ghost ther's none to affright thee. 
 
 Let not the darke thee cumber ; 
 What though the Moon do's slumber ? 
 
 The Starres of the night 
 
 Will lend thee their light, 
 Like Tapers cleare without number. 
 
 Then Julia let me wooe thee, 
 Thus, thus to come unto me : 
 
 And when I shall meet 
 
 Thy silv'rv feet. 
 My soule He poure into thee. 
 
 122 
 
w^mm' 
 
 
 
 
 
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 W^' 
 
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 mil 
 
 wm 
 
 fefi 
 
 ^. 
 
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 "-= — "^ — ^^i^-ss. 
 
 mmmm 
 
 r^'i 
 
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 J^ ¥ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 R^"'^^ 
 
 IHffi' 
 
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 k^^^^ 
 
 ^Jjj 
 
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 ^ /'d#'^ 
 
 B&liik^ ■ 
 
 jr 1? 
 
 Ti^J 
 
 r' ' 
 
 '^mui 
 
 
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 r 
 
 ■^;"."~^"'!! .-L^- '^ 
 
 ^^<rrmmA 
 
 
 
 
 r;.\ At,),!/ ,^^, , 
 
 r^ ''■'^m^^^^^ 
 
 
 
 
 
 The Night- p'^^^ to Jvjja. 
 
 Wh»/' JifU' f;"j- eJ"* 
 
 r '' 
 
 3vt t-n . °ji thy Mvi^ 
 N°t mRKJng ft /tA^ 
 '" <ihoft \\\'i'j- n°n« 1° Aftn^ht tWt 
 
 l5^ T\«t \hf ClATk«- aW^ ^VTt^fc^^■ 
 
 . lYf /ta.TrV- o/ ih' night 
 Vll) JCncl tKee difir JjPhc 
 ilk* ts.J>«r^ '^]''aT« •»;ih''vt nvji.b'r 
 
 TKctx JvJia. I'e mr -woo* ^K'* 
 Thv^, ihv/- 1° «°m« vne" thct 
 
 /\v fOvl<; J'|e p°vr'' into (h't 
 
UT07<i THQ LOSSS OF HIS dMIST%6SS€S. 
 
 /Have lost, and lately, these 
 Many dainty Mistresses : 
 Stately Jiilia^ prime of all ; 
 Sapho next, a principall : 
 Smooth oAiithea, for a skin 
 White, and Heaven-like Chrystalline : 
 Sweet Plectra, and the choice 
 cMyrha, for the Lute, and Voice. 
 Next, Corinna, for her wit. 
 And the graceful use of it : 
 With Terilla : All are gone : 
 Onelv Herrick's left alone, 
 For to number sorrow by 
 Their departures hence, and die. 
 
 TO TH& 1i€VGT{GC\fD SHcAT>6 OF HIS 
 %&LIGIOUS FcA7H&% 
 
 rHcAT for seven Lttsters I did never come 
 To doe the liites to thy Religious Tombe : 
 That neither haire was cut, or true teares shed 
 By me, o'r thee, (asjustmenis to the dead) 
 Forgive, forgive me ; since I did not know 
 Whether thy bones had here their Rest, or no. 
 But now 'tis known, Behold ; behold, I bring 
 Unto thy Ghost, th'Effused Offering : 
 And look, what Smallage, Night-shade, Cypresse, Yew, 
 Unto the shades have been, or now are due, 
 Here I devote ; And something more then so ; 
 
 I 
 
 Q 125 
 
I come to pay a Debt of Birth I owe. 
 
 Thou gav'st me life, (but Mortall ;) For that one 
 
 Favour, He make a full satisfaction ; 
 
 For my life mortall, Rise from out thv Herse, 
 
 And take a life immortall from mv Verse. 
 
 TO L(iAU%&LS. 
 
 ./Z Funerall stone, 
 Or Verse I covet none ; 
 But onely crave 
 Of you that I may have 
 A sacred Laurel springing from my grave 
 Which being seen. 
 Blest with perpetuall greene. 
 
 May grow to be 
 Not so much call'd a tree. 
 As the eternall monument of me. 
 
 126 
 
Q 
 
 TO THG LqA%K. 
 
 00T> speed, for I this day 
 Betimes mv Mattens say : 
 Because I doe 
 Begin to wooe : 
 Sweet singing Lark, 
 Be thou the Clark, 
 And know thy when 
 To sav, oAmen. 
 And if I prove 
 Blest in mv love : 
 Then thou shalt be 
 High-Priest to me, 
 At mv returne, 
 To Incense burne ; 
 
 And so to solemnize 
 
 Love's, and mv Sacrifice. 
 
 TH& FcAITimS. 
 
 /F ye will with oMab find grace, 
 Set each Platter in his place : 
 Rake the Fier up, and get 
 Water in, ere Sun be set. 
 Wash your Pailes, and dense your Dairies 
 Sluts are loathsome to the Fairies : 
 Sweep your house : Who doth not so, 
 (£Ma/) will pinch her by the toe. 
 
 127 
 
(B 
 
 CHcAT<mS. 
 
 TiJC^G the holy crust of Bread, 
 Lay it underneath the head ; 
 'Tis a certain charm to keep 
 Hags away, while Children sleep. 
 
 W 
 
 qASSqAILG the Trees, that they may beare 
 You many a Plum, and many a Peare : 
 For more or lesse fruits they will bring. 
 As you doe give them Wassailing. 
 
 UTO:^ T&qASOU^. Q'PIG. 
 
 LOT^G Locks of late our Zelot Teason weares, 
 Not for to hide his high and mighty eares ; 
 No, but because he wo'd not have it seen, 
 That Stubble stands, where once large eares have been. 
 
 UTOUSi cA^ OLT) WO<PiI(iAC\. 
 
 OUD widdow Trouse to do her neighbours evill 
 Wo'd give (some say) her soule unto the Devill. 
 Well, when sh'as kild, that Pig, Goose, Cock or Hen, 
 What wo'd she give to get that soule agen ? 
 
 128 
 
IM"/;^. 
 
 ^ S\K ^J) ^K'P/^K 
 
 eu.i7L 
 
 S-(,a-'cl givLC fojixe fo-V h-<=r /J'vJ vjrto y 
 
 ^^i^ej] ^i,en rhV.r KiVdL ths^t }=i§§"^ 
 
 What woJl fhe pu^ 1° ^H -fhat fov]t 
 
 J^b: Hficri'^JtC . 
 
TWSLF6 U^IGHT, or KIU^G oA^Ni^D QUSSCX^. 
 
 /\/0W, now the mirth comes 
 ^-^ ' With the cake full of plums, 
 
 Where Beane's the King of the sport here ; 
 Beside we must know, 
 The Pea also 
 
 Must revell, as Qjieene, in the Court here. 
 
 Begin then to chuse, 
 
 (This night as ye use) 
 Who shall for the present delight here, 
 
 Be a King by the lot, 
 
 And who shall not 
 Be Twelfe-day Qiieene for the night here. 
 
 Which knowne, let us make, 
 
 Joy-sops with the cake ; 
 And let not a man then be seen here, 
 
 Who unurg'd will not drinke 
 
 To the base from the brink 
 A health to the King and the Queene here. 
 
 Next crowne the bowle full 
 
 With gentle lambs-wooU ; 
 Adde sugar, nutmeg and ginger. 
 
 With store of ale too ; 
 
 And thus ye must doe 
 To make the wassaile a swinger. 
 
 Give then to the King 
 
 And Queene w^assailing ; 
 And though with ale ye be whet here ; 
 
 Yet part ye from hence. 
 
 As free from offence, 
 As when ve innocent met here. 
 
 131 
 
C0USiT&7<iT, U^OT CcATGS. 
 
 (^ B '/S not the food, but the content 
 m That makes the Tables merriment. 
 
 Where Trouble serves the board, we eate 
 The Platters there, as soone as meat, 
 A little Pipkin with a bit 
 Of Mutton, or of Veale in it, 
 Set on my Table, (Trouble-free) 
 More then a Feast contenteth me. 
 
 S 
 
 JcACK QA:NiT) JILL. 
 
 1USIC& Jack and Jill both wicked be ; 
 It seems a wonder unto me, 
 That thev no better do agree. 
 
 HIS CO^FOTiJ. 
 
 rIIS> only comfort of my life 
 Is that I never yet had wife ; 
 Nor will hereafter ; since I know 
 Who Weds, ore-buves his weal with woe. 
 
 rcA'P (better known than trusted) as we heare 
 Sold his old Mothers Spectacles for Beere ; 
 And not unlikely ; rather too then fail, 
 He'l sell her Eves, and Nose, for Beere and Ale. 
 
 132 
 
Wjpn T^p 
 
 $^.ncl not -v'nliK^i.V; rA.<,her t°o tha.ia fa.il. 
 ^M-le'l feJl Ker E>-ey aDid N°fe for B"r ivud Rk. 
 
TO qAJ^TH&^J. 
 
 /tU^TH&oA I am going hence 
 g^ yAi With some small stock of innocence 
 
 "^ But yet those blessed gates I see 
 Withstanding entrance unto me. 
 To prav for me doe thou begin, 
 The Porter then will let me in. 
 
 HIS WISH TO TTilVcACm. 
 
 Q 
 
 yiV6 me a Cell 
 
 To dwell, 
 Where no foot hath 
 
 A path : 
 There will I spend, 
 
 And end 
 My wearied yeares 
 
 In teares. 
 
 135 
 
S 9-* Z/T^ jingles now, and sweares by no meane oathes, 
 He's double honour'd, since h'as got gay cloathes : 
 Most like his Suite, and all commend the Trim ; 
 And thus they praise the Sumpter ; but not him : 
 As to the Goddesse, people did conferre 
 Worship, and not to'th' Asse that carried her. 
 
 TO HIS "BOOKS. 
 
 roAKS mine advise, and go not neere 
 Those faces (sower as Vinegar.) 
 For these, and Nobler numbers can 
 Ne'r please the supercillious man. 
 
 TO mr ILL T{&(iAT:>&Ti. 
 
 rHO U say'st my lines are hard ; 
 And I the truth will tell ; 
 They are both hard, and marr'd. 
 If thou not read'st them well. 
 
 136 
 
I 
 
 J^-^-n^-^/', 
 
 r 
 
 J'pvr jiagl«-r Ji°we, a^id. W^a.t^s by n° m'^an °AfhJ- 
 H^'j- dovble-h°novr'd,l'ince ji'a,j- g-oj Gay <^ioath«r 
 /^°ft lik^ Jxy^ fvite, cLUd a.U coj^vn^ej^cL the triitu 
 
 y\f 1° tlie fi-°da«fj-e p<?°ple did. cojT^fej.]-e. 
 ■WrfKip,a.nd Ti°t io\y ^Lf/e tha.t '•a.rried. A^i- 
 
I 
 
 TO DIcAT^&mG. 
 
 SW66T, be not proud of those two eyes, 
 Which Star-like sparkle in their skies : 
 Nor be you proud, that you can see 
 All hearts your captives ; yours, yet free : 
 Be you not proud of that rich haire, 
 Which wantons with the Love-sick aire : 
 When as that Tijibie, which you weare, 
 Sunk from the tip of your soft eare. 
 Will last to be a precious Stone, 
 When all your world of Beautie's gone. 
 
 lO 
 
 139 
 
UTOT^ CUFFS. &TIG. 
 
 y^UFFQ, comes to Church much ; but he keeps his bed 
 f / Those Sundayes onely, when as Briefs are read. 
 
 This makes Cuffe dull ; and troubles him the most, 
 Because he cannot sleep i'th'Church, free-cost. 
 
 / 
 
 VTOT^ THQ T>&TRsACT&Ti^ 
 
 ask't thee oft, what Poets thou hast read, 
 And lik'st the best ? Still thou reply'st. The dead. 
 I shall, ere long, w:ith green turfs cover'd be ; 
 Then sure thou't like, or thou wilt envie me. 
 
 L 
 
 TO qA FTijaU^'D. 
 
 00K6 in my Book, and herein see, 
 Life endlesse sign'd to thee and me. 
 We o're the tombes, and Fates shall flye 
 While other generations dye. 
 
 140 
 
t\e Keep^ Ki^ bed ' 
 
 I'hPf^ Jwnd-ajyr -^ri'ly, when a.y(5a. 
 
 brJffvT ei.r« rea^oL. 
 ThiV wakfj- Cvffe olvll ^ and 'fi^?. 
 
 irovblej- him the m^ft ^ 
 
 free-cof^. 
 
TT^T<& she lyes (in Bed of Spice) 
 / S Faire as &ve in Paradice : 
 For her beauty it was such 
 Poets co'd not praise too much. 
 Virgins Come, and in a Ring 
 Her supreamest T{equiem sing ; 
 Then depart, but see ye tread 
 Lightly, Hghtly ore the dead. 
 
 (iA7<i ^TITqATH UTOCX qA VI^RGIC^,. 
 
 T" Y6TiS a solemne Fast we keepe, 
 hH While all beauty lyes asleep 
 
 Husht be all things ; (no noyse here) 
 
 But the toning of a teare : 
 
 Or a sigh of such as bring 
 
 Cowslips for her covering. 
 
 H3 
 
TO HIS GITiLGS WHO WOULT> HoAVQ Him 
 S'POKJFUIL. 
 
 ylLoAS I can't, for tell me how 
 ^y~t Can I be gamesome (aged now) 
 
 Besides ye see me daily grow 
 Here Winter-like, to Frost and Snow. 
 And I ere long, my Girles shall see. 
 Ye quake for cold to looke on me. 
 
 LYI{ICK F0Ti^L6GQACmS. 
 
 ^^~yOLT> I've none, for use or show, 
 f "W" Neither Silver to bestow 
 ^ At my death ; but thus much know, 
 That each Lyrick here shall be 
 Of my love a Legacie, 
 Left to all posterity. 
 Gentle friends, then doe but please, 
 To accept such coynes as these ; 
 As my last Remembrances. 
 
 144 
 
T" hU Girlcj- v/hp wovM ha.uc Kim ^ortfvJl 
 
 AW .' I <^cin't, for leil nfi hpv 
 
 ^A,n I be gam«/<>m&. A-g^d now; 
 
 B'f idt; y« f== m= da.ily JrONf 
 Hi'r', ■iJinier-IiK'. t° /roft and ftow, 
 oVnci J crc Jonj, my gjrj'j-, fhall {'^ 
 Y^ IvAKe for coja (o jooj^c o„ j„c 
 
^ 
 
 THs commi:NiG of goot> luck. 
 
 s 
 
 Good-luck came, and on my roofe did light, 
 Like noyse-lesse Snow ; or as the dew of night 
 Not all at once, but gentlv, as the trees 
 Are, by the Sun-beams, tickel'd by degrees. 
 
 TH6 T'OW&Ti ICX TH& TQO'PLQ. 
 
 ST Kings Command, and doe the best they ma 
 The saucie Subjects still will beare the sway. 
 
 ILL G0VQT<p<im6UX.T. 
 
 (T^'K&POSTS'KOUS is that Government, (and rude) 
 ■^ When Kings obey the wilder Multitude. 
 
 Q 
 
 Losss, mpm ths l&qast. 
 
 l^cAT men by small meanes oft are overthrown 
 He's Lord of thy life^ who contemnes his own. 
 
 147 
 
TO 0&7<i07<ia. 
 
 CJ ^ \IIqAT Conscience, say, is it in thee 
 LSI) When I a Heart had one. 
 
 To Take away that Heart from me, 
 And to retain thy own ? 
 
 For shame or pitty now encline 
 
 To play a loving part ; 
 Either to send me kindly thine, 
 
 Or give me back my heart. 
 
 Covet not both ; but if thou dost 
 
 Resolve to part with neither ; 
 Why ! yet to shew that thou art just, 
 
 Take me and mine together. 
 
 TH& 'B%¥B&-C<zAKS>. 
 
 rHIS day my Julia thou must make 
 For Mistresse Bride, the wedding Cake 
 Knead but the Dow and it will be 
 To paste ot Almonds turn'd by thee : 
 Or kisse it thou, but once, or twice, 
 And for the Bride-Cake ther'l be Spice. 
 
 148 
 

 '"S^ 
 
 T?,^^ 
 
f «v« • • « 
 
I 
 
 HIS T&cATiS TO THqAoMqASIS. 
 
 /Send, I send here my supremest kiss 
 To thee my silver-footed Thamasts. 
 No more shall I reiterate thy Strand, 
 Whereon so many Stately Structures stand : 
 Nor in the summers sweeter evenings go, 
 To bath in thee (as thousand others doe.) 
 No more shall I a long thy christall glide, 
 In Barge (with boughes and rushes beautifi'd) 
 With soft smooth Virgins (for our chast disport) 
 To 'RJchmondj Kingstone, and to Hampton- Court: 
 Never againe shall I with Finnie-Ore 
 Put from, or draw unto the faithfull shore : 
 And Landing here, or safely Landing there, 
 Make my wav to my beloved Westminster : 
 Or to the Golden-cheap-side, where the earth 
 Of Julia Herrick gave to me my Birth. 
 May all clean T^imphs and curious water Dames, 
 With Swan-like-state, flote up y down thy streams: 
 No drought upon thv wanton waters fall 
 To make them Leane, and languishing at all. 
 No ruffling winds come hither to discease 
 Thy pure, and Silver-wristed U^aides. 
 Keep up your state ye streams^ ; and as ye spring, 
 Never make sick vour Banks by surfeiting. 
 Grow young with Tydes, and though I see ye never, 
 Receive this vow, so fare-ye-well for ever. 
 
 151 
 
-.y^naii^IS-'TiTTS, Ripe, Ripe, I cry, 
 ij Full and faire ones ; come and buy 
 
 If so be, you ask me where 
 They doe grow ? I answer. There, 
 Where my Julids Hps doe smile ; 
 There's the Land, or Cherrv-Ile : 
 Whose Plantations fully show 
 All the yeere, where Cherries grow. 
 
 HOW ToAV^SmS 0%^ HQ(iATS-&qAS& 
 CoAmQ FITiST. 
 
 W '^'^OLLICK Virgins once these were, 
 Ml Over-loving, (living here :) 
 
 Being here their ends deny'd 
 Ranne for Sweet-hearts mad, and dy'd. 
 Love in pitie of their teares, 
 And their losse in blooming yeares ; 
 For their restlesse here-spent houres, 
 Gave them Hearts-ease turn'd to Flow'rs. 
 
 152 
 
H'* •Heacftfea.ft escape f j^f^ 
 
 IroJIi'^K UirginJ- "/.teth'f' ««■!*'.,' .^,. 
 1 Oitfr-louing.littin? h^re v'^'j-/ 
 ^^inj hf^r^ <hs£r «7idJ- d^iiyU *»<). 
 
 ' -M-nd ili^it MJ'' in bj^ming y<j 
 „.T'T -OVU r«Wefj-« here fbenl A 
 
 RoJ). H^rrifjf 
 
TO WBIUX. %QTy-'BT{&ST. 
 
 LqAFD out for dead, let thy last kindnesse be 
 With leaves and mosse-work for to cover me: 
 And while the Wood-nimphs my cold corps inter, 
 Sing thou my Dirge, sweet-warbling Chorister ! 
 For Epitaph, in Foliage, next write this. 
 
 Here, Jiere the Tomb of '^obin Herrick is. 
 
 THS> ScAT)U^&SS6, OF THIU^GS FOTi ScATHO'S 
 
 SICKC^6SS8 
 
 LILLI6S will languish ; Violets look ill ; 
 Sickly the Prim-rose : Pale the DafFadill : 
 That gallant Tulip will hang down his head, 
 Like to a Virgin newly ravished. 
 Pansies will weep ; and Marygolds will wither ; 
 And keep a Fast, and Funerall together, 
 If SapJio droop ; Daisies will open never, 
 But bid Good-night, and close their lids for ever. 
 
 II 
 
 155 
 
TO C(iAT<^cAT10:NiS. oA SOC^G. 
 
 S 
 
 TqA Y while ye will, or goe ; 
 
 And leave no scent behind ye : 
 Yet trust me ; I shall know 
 
 The place, where I may find ye. 
 
 Within my Lucia's cheek, 
 (Whose Livery ye weare) 
 
 Play ye at Hide or Seek, 
 I'm sure to find ye there. 
 
 TO SdA'PHO. 
 
 SqA'PHO, I will chuse to go 
 Where the Northern winds do blow 
 Endlesse Ice, and endlesse Snow : 
 Rather then I wonce wo'd see. 
 But a Winters face in thee. 
 To bennumme my hopes and me. 
 
 05\; CHLOIilS WdALKIT^iG IC^, TH6> S7<iOW. 
 
 /saw faire Chloris walke alone. 
 When feather'd raine came softly down, 
 Then yove descended from his Tower, 
 To court her in a silver shower. 
 The wanton snow flew to her brest. 
 Like little birds into their nest ; 
 But overcome with whitenes there. 
 For greife it thaw'd into a teare. 
 Then falling down her garment hem. 
 To deck her, froze into a gem. 
 
 156 
 
Oa Chioriy WalKinge jn;^ Sno^e 
 
 I 
 
 V 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 ^ 
 
 Iv/sv'ji' /aire (-Klori j- 'w'a lh<^ a.lor\e- ""^ 
 
 ^C'hfR feAfhcr'tl rAinf^ cam^ foijijy a->-<}Vf\^, 
 ^ TK«n lou«^ defccnded from hi J- tc>M»<r 
 T" covrt H'^r jii a ijlufr Iho>wer, 
 The Wanton. ^n°\t^ fl«v t" h«r breA 
 liK^ littl<= bird-^ juto xn^ir iieR; ,,^|^ 
 
 Rvt ouCr'^om.e' «riCh >j^hitenej^ ih^r<^^ '^ 
 
 foy Gri*f<= iiOm.\ved inio a T«arc-, ''^^ 
 Th^n falling dPwn. h?r Gwmfm )i«>n. 
 To decKe her, f r-^^e iaio a. f «m. . 
 
HOW lipSSS CcA<£M6 Ti&'D. 
 
 (R 
 
 0S6S at first were white, 
 Till they co'd not agree, 
 
 Whether my Sapho's breast, 
 
 Or they more white she'd be. 
 
 But being vanquisht quite, 
 
 A blush their cheeks bespred ; 
 Since which (beleeve the rest) 
 
 The T{gses first came red. 
 
 HOW VIOL&TS CcAm6> "BLQW. 
 
 L 
 
 01)6 on a day (wise Poets tell) 
 Some time in wrangling spent, 
 
 Whether the Violets sho'd excell, 
 Or she, in sw-eetest scent. 
 
 But 1)011(3 having lost the day, 
 Poore Girles, she fell on you ; 
 
 And beat ye so, (as some dare say) 
 Her blowes did make ye blew. 
 
 159 
 
TO ToAu^sms. 
 
 /tHl cruell Love ! must I endure 
 m A^ Thy many scorns, and find no cure ? 
 
 Sav, are thv medicines made to be 
 Helps to all others, but to me ? 
 He leave thee, and to T^ansies come ; 
 Comforts you'l afford me some : 
 You can ease my heart, and doe 
 What Love co'd ne'r be brought unto. 
 
 / 
 
 o:Mi HI0MS&LF&. 
 
 L'G write no more of Love ; but now repent 
 Of all those times that I in it have spent. 
 He write no more of life ; but wish twas ended, 
 And that my dust was to the earth commended. 
 
 (B 
 
 UTOUX, "BLqAU^CH. 
 
 LqAU^CH swears her Husband's lovely; when a scald 
 Has blear'd his eyes : Besides, his head is bald. 
 Next, his wilde eares, like Lethern wings full spread. 
 Flutter to flie, and beare away his head. 
 
 160 
 
\/y>°^■\. '^Id^n^K 
 
 E./\ aUv 
 
 Tjvttcr to fjie e^nct B^a^rC a.w<ay Kw K€'ac£ 
 
TO SYCqAqMO'R^S. 
 
 /'qM sick of Love ; O let me lie 
 Under your shades, to sleep or die ! 
 Either is welcome ; so I have 
 Or here my Bed, or here my Grave. 
 Why do you sigh, and sob, and keep 
 Time with the tears, that I do weep ? 
 Say, have ye sence, or do you prove 
 What Crucifixions are in Love ? 
 I know ye do ; and that's the why, 
 You sigh for Love, as well as L 
 
 U^O LUCK lUSi LOV&. 
 
 I 
 
 doe love I know not what ; 
 Sometimes this, ^ sometimes that 
 All conditions I aime at. 
 
 But, as lucklesse, I have yet 
 Many shrewd disasters met. 
 To gaine her whom I wo'd get. 
 
 Therefore now He love no more, 
 
 As Lve doted heretofore : 
 
 He who must be, shall be poore. 
 
 TO CH6'KRY-'BLOSSOdM6S. 
 
 r<o may simper, blush, and smile, 
 And perfume the aire a while : 
 But (sweet things) ye must be gone 
 Fruit, ve know, is comming on : 
 Then, Ah ! Then, where is your grace. 
 When as Cherries come in place ? 
 
 163 
 
TO HIS "BOOKS. 
 
 ^^~y OS thou forth my booke, though late 
 f ^ Yet be timely fortunate. 
 
 ^ It may chance good-luck may send 
 Thee a kinsman, or a friend, 
 That may harbour thee, when I, 
 With my fates neglected lye. 
 If thou know'st not where to dwell. 
 See, the fier's by : Farewell. 
 
 TO HIS "BOOKS. 
 
 li /W'qAKS haste away, and let one be 
 pt y f' t A friendly Patron unto thee : 
 
 Lest rapt from hence, I see thee lye 
 Torn for the use of Pasterie ; 
 Or see thy injur'd Leaves serve well. 
 To make loose Gownes for Mackarell : 
 Or see the Grocers in a trice. 
 Make hoods of thee to serve out Spice. 
 
 C 
 
 THS CO"BIS%S CqATCH 
 
 OqMS sit we by the fires side ; 
 
 And roundly drinke we here ; 
 Till that we see our cheekes Ale-dy'd 
 And noses tann'd with Beere. 
 
 164 
 
(i°m.^ Sii ^i- by y Tirej- fid.t 
 ■And lOvndlly PrinKe ^ee h^/v (p^\ 
 
 Till -fhaLt ■we fee Oyr C)^eeKex Aie-dygr^ 
 ^nl /Vof'^J' lanan with. Beer« ^^ 
 
 
 
VPOCX qA CHIUD THqAT "DYQ'D. 
 
 y JTiiT^ she lies, a pretty bud, 
 / / Lately made of flesh and blood 
 Who, as soone, fell fast asleep, 
 As her lirtle fst'cj eyes did peep. 
 Give her strewings ; but not stir 
 The earth, that lightly covers her. 
 
 HOW moA'RIGOL'D'S CqAqM^ Y6LL0W. 
 
 /QcALOUS Girles these sometimes were, 
 While they liv'd, or lasted here : 
 Turn'd to Flowers^ still they be 
 Yellow, markt for Jealousie. 
 
 TO eMIST1{6SS6 "DOTiOTHY TcAT^SOU^S. 
 
 /F thou aske me (Deare) wherefore 
 I do write of thee no more : 
 I must answer (Sweet) thy part 
 Lesse is here, then in my heart. 
 
 167 
 
TO HIS :^€'PHGW TO "BS "PT^OST&TiOUS lU^. 
 HIS qAT^J of TQAi:NiTIU^G. 
 
 OC^, as thou hast begunne, brave youth, and get 
 The Palme from Urbin, Titian^ Tintarret, 
 'Brugel, and Coxu, and the workes out-doe, 
 Of Holben^ and That mighty ^iben too. 
 So draw, and paint, as none may do the like. 
 No, not the glory of the World, 'Vandike. 
 
 TH& T>&T(iAT<JUTi& OF TH& GOOD "D&mOV^. 
 
 CJ ^ SHqAT can I do in Poetry, 
 LSI) Now the good Spirit's gone from me ? 
 Why nothing now, but lonely sit, 
 And over-read what I have writ. 
 
 V'P07<i F07<i& qA SCHOOL-qMcASTCIL STIG. 
 
 F 
 
 OU^S> sayes, those mighty whiskers he do's weare. 
 Are twigs of Birch, and willow, growing there : 
 If so, we'll think too, (when he do's condemne 
 Boyes to the lash) that he do's whip with them. 
 
 1 68 
 
VpojT. T^n^ Qu School- rna^i-tcjr 
 
 rone {a>ffs \h°{^ inigKty whifk^rj- Ke i°'s y/^<».r<^, 
 
 >Vl-e (.-*-igj- Of tirch, a-nd willow, gro-wing i.h.er<^ ; 
 Is fo, '^•«"Jl iKink too, wh^n. he do'j condemn^' 
 Jgoye^ L^ th.e lafK, ^fie^t K^' dPs -whip ^»itK them,. 
 
VPOT^ L0V6. 'BY WcAY OF QU6STI07^ cAU^T) 
 
 QA7<iSW&% 
 
 /Bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 Ans. Like, and dislike ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Stroake ye to strike ye. 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Love will be-foole ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Heate ye to coole ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Love gifts will send ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Stock ye to spend ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Love will fulfill ye : 
 I bring ye love : Quest. What will love do ? 
 
 Ans. Kisse ye, to kill ye. 
 
 ro musiQus, ro msccAUMQ his Fsve^ 
 
 c 
 
 HqA''RqM& me asleep, and melt me so 
 
 With thy Delicious Numbers ; 
 That being ravisht, hence I goe 
 Away in easie slumbers. 
 Ease my sick head, 
 And make my bed, 
 
 Thou 
 
 12 171 
 
Thou Power that canst sever 
 From me this ill : 
 And quickly still : 
 Though thou not kill 
 My Fever. 
 
 Thou sweetly canst convert the same 
 
 From a consuming fire, 
 Into a gentle-licking flame. 
 And make it thus expire. 
 
 Then make me weep 
 My paines asleep ; 
 And give me such reposes. 
 That I, poore I, 
 May think, thereby, 
 I live and die 
 
 'Mongst Roses, 
 
 Fall on me like a silent dew, 
 
 Or like those Maiden showrs. 
 Which, by the peepe of day, doe strew 
 A Baptime o're the flowers. 
 
 Melt, melt my paines 
 With thy soft straines; 
 That having ease me given, 
 With full delight, 
 I leave this light; 
 And take my flight 
 For Heaven. 
 
 172 
 
To hvSlQVE 
 
• « • ■ • • 
 
I 
 
 Noble Numbers, 
 
 HIS COUSiF&SSIOU^. 
 
 LOOK how our foule Daves do exceed our faire ; 
 And as our bad, more then our good Works are: 
 Ev'n so those Lines; pen'd by my wanton Wit, 
 Treble the number of these good I've writ. 
 Things precious are least num'rous : Men are prone 
 To do ten Bad, for one Good Action. 
 
 qA CH%ISTm<zAS CcATiPLL SUU^G TO TH& KIT^G 
 lUX. TH& VKSSSU^CS qAT WHITQ-HcALL. 
 
 W 
 
 Lhor. CJ ^ \HqAT sweeter musick can we bring, 
 Then a Caroll, for to sing 
 The Birth of this our heavenly King ? 
 
 Awake the Voice ! Awake the String ! 
 
 Heart, Eare, and Eye, and every thing 
 
 Awake ! the while the active Finger 
 
 Runs division with the Singer. 
 
 From the Flourish they came to the Song. 
 
 Dark and dull night, flie hence away. 
 And give the honour to this Day, 
 That sees T^ecember turn'd to oMay. 
 
 175 
 
 If 
 
2 If we may ask the reason, say ; 
 
 The why, and wherefore all things here 
 Seem like the Spring-time of the yeere ? 
 
 3 Why do's the chilling Winters morne 
 Smile, like a field beset with corne ? 
 Or smell, like to a Meade new-shorne, 
 Thus, on the sudden ? 4. Come and see 
 The cause, why things thus fragrant be : 
 'Tis He is borne, whose quickning Birth 
 Gives life and luster, publike mirth, 
 
 To Heaven, and the under-Earth. 
 
 Chor. We see Him come, and know him ours. 
 
 Who with His Sun-shine and His showers 
 Turnes all the patient ground to flowers. 
 
 I The Darling of the world is come, 
 And fit it is, we finde a roome 
 To welcome Him. The nobler part 
 Of all the house here, is the heart, 
 
 Chor. Which we will give Him ; and bequeath 
 This Hollie, and this Ivie Wreath, 
 To do Him honour ; who's our King, 
 Ann Lord of all this Revelling. 
 
 The oMusicall Tart was composed by 
 M. Henry Lawes. 
 
 €TQT<P<iITI6. 
 
 OYeares ! and Age ! Farewell ; 
 Behold I go, 
 Where I do know 
 Infinitie to dwell. 
 
 And 
 
 176 
 
lyiss-tr) (^S\ge\ foswejl: 
 JnfmU.e to dvejL. />\Tid <h^f« Jnai® ti|> IKa,!! P* 
 
 
 -^j}c;<r Tn« ^a-TrlTifevi ©/Re 
 
 Miu-i^e "^ 
 
And these mine eyes shall see 
 All times, how they 
 Are lost i'th'Sea 
 
 Of vast Eternitie. 
 
 Where never Moone shall sway 
 The Starres ; but she, 
 And Night, shall be 
 
 Drown'd in one endlesse Dav. 
 
 COCK-CTipW. 
 
 ^^^ry&LL-QMcAU^ of Night, if I about shall go 
 • #j For to denie my Master, do thou crow. 
 
 Thou stop'st S. Teeter in the midst of sin ; 
 Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin ; 
 Better it is, premonish'd, for to shun 
 A sin, then fall to weeping when 'tis done. 
 
 rHOU hast made manv Houses for the Dead ; 
 When my Lot calls me to be buried. 
 For Love or Pittie, prethee let there be 
 I'th' Church-yard; made, one Tenement for me. 
 
 T 
 
 T&m'PTQATlOV^. 
 
 HOS& Saints, which God loves best. 
 The Devill tempts not least. 
 
 179 
 
THS> TiOSG. 
 
 /^T^&FO%§> Mans fall, the Rose was born 
 • y^ (S. oAmbrose saves) without the Thorn : 
 But, for Mans fault, then was the Thorn, 
 Without the fragrant Rose-bud, born ; 
 But ne're the Rose without the Thorn. 
 
 oAV^ ODS OF TH& miTiJH OF 0U% ScAVIOU% 
 
 /(T^i Numbers, and but these few, 
 I sing Thy Birth, Oh JESU ! 
 Thou prettie Babie, borne here, 
 With sup'rabundant scorn here : 
 Who for Thy Princely Port here, 
 
 Hadst for Thy place 
 Of Birth, a base 
 Out-stable for thy Court here. 
 
 Instead of neat Inclosures 
 Of inter-woven Osiers ; 
 Instead of fragrant Posies 
 Of Daffadills, and Roses; 
 Thy cradle. Kingly Stranger, 
 
 As Gospell tells, 
 
 Was nothing els. 
 But, here, a homely manger. 
 
 But 
 
 1 80 
 
But we with Silks, (not Cruells) 
 With sundry precious Jewells, 
 And Lillv-work will dresse Thee ; 
 And as we dispossesse thee 
 Of clouts, wee'l make a chamber, 
 
 Sweet Babe, for Thee, 
 
 Of Ivorie, 
 And plaister'd round with Amber. 
 
 The Jewes they did disdaine Thee, 
 But we will entertaine Thee 
 With Glories to await here 
 Upon Thy Princely State here, 
 And more for love, then pittie. 
 
 From yeere to yeere 
 Wee'l make Thee, here, 
 A Free-born of our Citie. 
 
 cJ GT<qAC& FOTl qA CHIUD. 
 
 Y Y^T<§ a little child I stand, 
 # / Heaving up mv either hand ; 
 
 Cold as paddocks though they be. 
 Here I lift them up to Thee, 
 For a benizon to fall 
 On our meat, and on us all. Amen. 
 
 ITPOUSi T&qA'PSS. 
 
 rScAI^S, though th'are here below the sinners brine. 
 Above they are the Angels spiced wine. 
 
 183 
 
MLOU^G the dark, and silent night, 
 ^ /-I With my Lantern, and my Light, 
 
 And the trinkhng of my Bell, 
 Thus I walk, and this I tell : 
 Death and dreadfulnesse call on, 
 To the gen'rall Session ; 
 To whose dismall Barre, we there 
 All accompts must come to cleere : 
 Scores of sins w'ave made here many, 
 Wip't out few, (God knowes) if any. 
 Rise ye Debters then, and fall 
 To make paiment, while I call. 
 Ponder this, when I am gone ; 
 By the clock 'tis almost One. 
 
 TO K&&T qA TTiU& L&U^T. 
 
 /S this a Fast, to keep 
 The Larder leane ? 
 And cleane 
 From fat of Veales, and Sheep ? 
 
 Is it to quit the dish 
 
 Of Flesh, yet still 
 To fill 
 The platter high with Fish ? 
 
 Is it to fast an houre, 
 
 Or rag'd to go, 
 
 Or show 
 A down-cast look, and sowre ? 
 
 184 
 
 No 
 
No : 'tis a Fast, to dole 
 
 Thy sheaf of wheat, 
 And meat 
 Unto the hungry Soule. 
 
 It is to fast from strife. 
 
 From old debate, 
 And hate ; 
 To circumcise thy life. 
 
 To shew a heart grief-rent ; 
 
 To sterve thy sin, 
 Not Bin ; 
 And that's to keep thy Lent. 
 
 CLOqATHS FO'K C0C\TI7^UcA7^CS. 
 
 rHOS& Garments lasting evermore, 
 Are works of mercy to the poore, 
 Which neither Tettar, Time, or Moth 
 Shall fray that silke, or fret this cloth. 
 
 13 
 
 187 
 
rO his Book's end this last line he'd have plac't 
 Jocond his oMuse was ; but his Life was chasL 
 
 -/- * 
 
 "-irw 
 
 -I/. 
 
 1 88 
 
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