Chapter XVII (8)

My Ben!
Or come again,
Or send to us
Thy wit's great overplus;
But teach us yet
Wisely to husband it,
Lest we that talent spend:
And having once brought to an end
That precious stock; the store
Of such a wit the world should have no more.

_The Sun_, _etc._, famous taverns.

912. UPON A VIRGIN.

Spend, harmless shade, thy nightly hours
Selecting here both herbs and flowers;
Of which make garlands here and there
To dress thy silent sepulchre.
Nor do thou fear the want of these
_In everlasting properties_,
Since we fresh strewings will bring hither,
Far faster than the first can wither.

913. BLAME.

In battles what disasters fall,
The king he bears the blame of all.

914. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES.

Ponder my words, if so that any be
Known guilty here of incivility:
Let what is graceless, discompos'd, and rude,
With sweetness, smoothness, softness, be endu'd.
Teach it to blush, to curtsy, lisp, and show
Demure, but yet full of temptation, too.
_Numbers ne'er tickle, or but lightly please,
Unless they have some wanton carriages._
This if ye do, each piece will here be good,
And graceful made by your neat sisterhood.

915. UPON HIMSELF.

I lately fri'd, but now behold
I freeze as fast, and shake for cold.
And in good faith I'd thought it strange
T' have found in me this sudden change;
But that I understood by dreams
These only were but Love's extremes;
Who fires with hope the lover's heart,
And starves with cold the self-same part.

916. MULTITUDE.

We trust not to the multitude in war,
But to the stout, and those that skilful are.

917. FEAR.

Man must do well out of a good intent;
Not for the servile fear of punishment.

918. TO M. KELLAM.

What! can my Kellam drink his sack
In goblets to the brim,
And see his Robin Herrick lack,
Yet send no bowls to him?

For love or pity to his muse,
That she may flow in verse,
Contemn to recommend a cruse,
But send to her a tierce.

919. HAPPINESS TO HOSPITALITY; OR, A HEARTY WISH TO GOOD HOUSEKEEPING.

First, may the hand of bounty bring
Into the daily offering
Of full provision such a store,
Till that the cook cries: Bring no more.
Upon your hogsheads never fall
A drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;
But, like full clouds, may they from thence
Diffuse their mighty influence.
Next, let the lord and lady here
Enjoy a Christ'ning year by year;
And this good blessing back them still,
T' have boys, and girls too, as they will.
Then from the porch may many a bride
Unto the holy temple ride:
And thence return, short prayers said,
A wife most richly married.
Last, may the bride and bridegroom be
Untouch'd by cold sterility;
But in their springing blood so play,
As that in lusters few they may,
By laughing too, and lying down,
People a city or a town.

_Wish_, om. orig. ed.
_Lusters_, quinquenniums.

920. CUNCTATION IN CORRECTION.

The lictors bundled up their rods; beside,
Knit them with knots with much ado unti'd,
That if, unknitting, men would yet repent,
They might escape the lash of punishment.

921. PRESENT GOVERNMENT GRIEVOUS.

_Men are suspicious, prone to discontent:
Subjects still loathe the present government._

922. REST REFRESHES.

Lay by the good a while; a resting field
Will, after ease, a richer harvest yield;
Trees this year bear: next, they their wealth withhold:
_Continual reaping makes a land wax old_.

923. REVENGE.

_Man's disposition is for to requite
An injury, before a benefit:
Thanksgiving is a burden and a pain;
Revenge is pleasing to us, as our gain._

924. THE FIRST MARS OR MAKES.

In all our high designments 'twill appear,
_The first event breeds confidence or fear_.

925. BEGINNING DIFFICULT.

_Hard are the two first stairs unto a crown:
Which got, the third bids him a king come down._

926. FAITH FOUR-SQUARE.

Faith is a thing that's four-square; let it fall
This way or that, it not declines at all.

927. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH.

Praise they that will times past; I joy to see
Myself now live: _this age best pleaseth me_.

928. CLOTHES ARE CONSPIRATORS.

Though from without no foes at all we fear,
We shall be wounded by the clothes we wear.

929. CRUELTY.

_'Tis but a dog-like madness in bad kings,
For to delight in wounds and murderings:
As some plants prosper best by cuts and blows,
So kings by killing do increase their foes._

930. FAIR AFTER FOUL.

_Tears quickly dry, griefs will in time decay:
A clear will come after a cloudy day._

931. HUNGER.

Ask me what hunger is, and I'll reply,
'Tis but a fierce desire of hot and dry.

932. BAD WAGES FOR GOOD SERVICE.

In this misfortune kings do most excel,
To hear the worst from men when they do well.

933. THE END.

Conquer we shall, but we must first contend;
_'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end_.

934. THE BONDMAN.

Bind me but to thee with thine hair,
And quickly I shall be
Made by that fetter or that snare
A bondman unto thee.
Or if thou tak'st that bond away,
Then bore me through the ear,
And by the law I ought to stay
For ever with thee here.

935. CHOOSE FOR THE BEST.

Give house-room to the best; _'tis never known
Virtue and pleasure both to dwell in one_.

936. TO SILVIA.

Pardon my trespass, Silvia; I confess
My kiss out-went the bounds of shamefastness:
None is discreet at all times; no, _not Jove
Himself, at one time, can be wise and love_.

937. FAIR SHOWS DECEIVE.

Smooth was the sea, and seem'd to call
Two pretty girls to play withal:
Who paddling there, the sea soon frown'd,
And on a sudden both were drown'd.
What credit can we give to seas,
Who, kissing, kill such saints as these?

938. HIS WISH.

Fat be my hind; unlearned be my wife;
Peaceful my night; my day devoid of strife:
To these a comely offspring I desire,
Singing about my everlasting fire.

_Hind_, country servant.

939. UPON JULIA WASHING HERSELF IN THE RIVER.

How fierce was I, when I did see
My Julia wash herself in thee!
So lilies thorough crystal look:
So purest pebbles in the brook:
As in the river Julia did,
Half with a lawn of water hid.
Into thy streams myself I threw,
And struggling there, I kiss'd thee too;
And more had done, it is confess'd,
Had not thy waves forbade the rest.

940. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS.

Though frankincense the deities require,
_We must not give all to the hallowed fire_.
Such be our gifts, and such be our expense,
As for ourselves to leave some frankincense.

941. UPON CLUNN.

A roll of parchment Clunn about him bears,
Charg'd with the arms of all his ancestors:
And seems half ravish'd, when he looks upon
That bar, this bend; that fess, this cheveron;
This manch, that moon; this martlet, and that mound;
This counterchange of pearl and diamond.
What joy can Clunn have in that coat, or this,
Whenas his own still out at elbows is?

942. UPON CUPID.

Love, like a beggar, came to me
With hose and doublet torn:
His shirt bedangling from his knee,
With hat and shoes outworn.

He ask'd an alms; I gave him bread,
And meat too, for his need:
Of which, when he had fully fed,
He wished me all good speed.

Away he went, but as he turn'd
(In faith I know not how)
He touch'd me so, as that I burn['d],
And am tormented now.

Love's silent flames and fires obscure
Then crept into my heart;
And though I saw no bow, I'm sure
His finger was the dart.

946. AN HYMN TO LOVE.

I will confess
With cheerfulness,
Love is a thing so likes me,
That let her lay
On me all day,
I'll kiss the hand that strikes me.

I will not, I,
Now blubb'ring, cry,
It, ah! too late repents me,
That I did fall
To love at all,
Since love so much contents me.

No, no, I'll be
In fetters free:
While others they sit wringing
Their hands for pain,
I'll entertain
The wounds of love with singing.

With flowers and wine,
And cakes divine,
To strike me I will tempt thee:
Which done; no more
I'll come before
Thee and thine altars empty.

947. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. CHARLES COTTON.

For brave comportment, wit without offence,
Words fully flowing, yet of influence:
Thou art that man of men, the man alone,
Worthy the public admiration:
Who with thine own eyes read'st what we do write,
And giv'st our numbers euphony and weight;
Tell'st when a verse springs high, how understood
To be, or not, born of the royal blood.
What state above, what symmetry below,
Lines have, or should have, thou the best can'st show.
For which, my Charles, it is my pride to be
Not so much known, as to be lov'd of thee.
Long may I live so, and my wreath of bays
Be less another's laurel than thy praise.

948. WOMEN USELESS.

What need we marry women, when
Without their use we may have men,
And such as will in short time be
For murder fit, or mutiny?
As Cadmus once a new way found,
By throwing teeth into the ground;
From which poor seed, and rudely sown,
Sprung up a war-like nation:
So let us iron, silver, gold,
Brass, lead, or tin throw into th' mould;
And we shall see in little space
Rise up of men a fighting race.
If this can be, say then, what need
Have we of women or their seed?

949. LOVE IS A SYRUP.

Love is a syrup; and whoe'er we see
Sick and surcharg'd with this satiety,
Shall by this pleasing trespass quickly prove
_There's loathsomeness e'en in the sweets of love_.

950. LEAVEN.

Love is a leaven; and a loving kiss
The leaven of a loving sweetheart is.

951. REPLETION.

Physicians say repletion springs
More from the sweet than sour things.

952. ON HIMSELF.

Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light:
And weep for me, lost in an endless night.
Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me,
Who writ for many. Benedicite.

953. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY.

No man such rare parts hath that he can swim,
If favour or occasion help not him.

954. ON HIMSELF.

Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone
Here now I rest under this marble stone:
In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.

955. TO M. LEONARD WILLAN, HIS PECULIAR FRIEND.

I will be short, and having quickly hurl'd
This line about, live thou throughout the world;
Who art a man for all scenes; unto whom,
What's hard to others, nothing's troublesome.
Can'st write the comic, tragic strain, and fall
From these to pen the pleasing pastoral:
Who fli'st at all heights: prose and verse run'st through;
Find'st here a fault, and mend'st the trespass too:
For which I might extol thee, but speak less,
Because thyself art coming to the press:
And then should I in praising thee be slow,
Posterity will pay thee what I owe.

956. TO HIS WORTHY FRIEND, M. JOHN HALL, STUDENT OF GRAY'S INN.

Tell me, young man, or did the Muses bring
Thee less to taste than to drink up their spring,
That none hereafter should be thought, or be
A poet, or a poet-like but thee?
What was thy birth, thy star that makes thee known,
At twice ten years, a prime and public one?
Tell us thy nation, kindred, or the whence
Thou had'st and hast thy mighty influence,
That makes thee lov'd, and of the men desir'd,
And no less prais'd than of the maids admired.
Put on thy laurel then; and in that trim
Be thou Apollo or the type of him:
Or let the unshorn god lend thee his lyre,
And next to him be master of the choir.

957. TO JULIA.

Offer thy gift; but first the law commands
Thee, Julia, first, to sanctify thy hands:
Do that, my Julia, which the rites require,
Then boldly give thine incense to the fire.

958. TO THE MOST COMELY AND PROPER M. ELIZABETH FINCH.

Handsome you are, and proper you will be
Despite of all your infortunity:
Live long and lovely, but yet grow no less
In that your own prefixed comeliness:
Spend on that stock: and when your life must fall,
Leave others beauty to set up withal.

_Proper_, well-made.

960. TO HIS BOOK.

If hap it must, that I must see thee lie
Absyrtus-like, all torn confusedly:
With solemn tears, and with much grief of heart,
I'll recollect thee, weeping, part by part;
And having wash'd thee, close thee in a chest
With spice; that done, I'll leave thee to thy rest.

_Absyrtus-like_, the brother of Medea, cut in pieces by her that his
father might be delayed by gathering his limbs.

961. TO THE KING, UPON HIS WELCOME TO HAMPTON COURT. SET AND SUNG.

Welcome, great Cæsar, welcome now you are
As dearest peace after destructive war:
Welcome as slumbers, or as beds of ease
After our long and peevish sicknesses.
O pomp of glory! Welcome now, and come
To repossess once more your long'd-for home.
A thousand altars smoke: a thousand thighs
Of beeves here ready stand for sacrifice.
Enter and prosper; while our eyes do wait
For an ascendent throughly auspicate:
Under which sign we may the former stone
Lay of our safety's new foundation:
That done, O Cæsar! live and be to us
Our fate, our fortune, and our genius;
To whose free knees we may our temples tie
As to a still protecting deity:
That should you stir, we and our altars too
May, great Augustus, go along with you.
_Chor._ Long live the King! and to accomplish this,
We'll from our own add far more years to his.

_Ascendent_, the most influential position of a planet in astrology.
_Auspicate_, propitious.

962. ULTIMUS HEROUM: OR, TO THE MOST LEARNED, AND TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, HENRY, MARQUIS OF DORCHESTER.

And as time past when Cato the severe
Enter'd the circumspacious theatre,
In reverence of his person everyone
Stood as he had been turn'd from flesh to stone;
E'en so my numbers will astonished be
If but looked on; struck dead, if scann'd by thee.

963. TO HIS MUSE; ANOTHER TO THE SAME.

Tell that brave man, fain thou would'st have access
To kiss his hands, but that for fearfulness;
Or else because th'art like a modest bride,
Ready to blush to death, should he but chide.

966. TO HIS LEARNED FRIEND, M. JO. HARMAR, PHYSICIAN TO THE COLLEGE OF WESTMINSTER.

When first I find those numbers thou dost write,
To be most soft, terse, sweet, and perpolite:
Next, when I see thee tow'ring in the sky,
In an expansion no less large than high;
Then, in that compass, sailing here and there,
And with circumgyration everywhere;
Following with love and active heat thy game,
And then at last to truss the epigram;
I must confess, distinction none I see
Between Domitian's Martial then, and thee.
But this I know, should Jupiter again
Descend from heaven to reconverse with men;
The Roman language full, and superfine,
If Jove would speak, he would accept of thine.

_Perpolite_, well polished.

967. UPON HIS SPANIEL TRACY.

Now thou art dead, no eye shall ever see,
For shape and service, spaniel like to thee.
This shall my love do, give thy sad death one
Tear, that deserves of me a million.

968. THE DELUGE.

Drowning, drowning, I espy
Coming from my Julia's eye:
'Tis some solace in our smart,
To have friends to bear a part:
I have none; but must be sure
Th' inundation to endure.
Shall not times hereafter tell
This for no mean miracle?
When the waters by their fall
Threaten'd ruin unto all,
Yet the deluge here was known
Of a world to drown but one.

971. STRENGTH TO SUPPORT SOVEREIGNTY.

Let kings and rulers learn this line from me:
_Where power is weak, unsafe is majesty_.

973. CRUTCHES.

Thou see'st me, Lucia, this year droop;
Three zodiacs filled more, I shall stoop;
Let crutches then provided be
To shore up my debility.
Then, while thou laugh'st, I'll sighing cry,
"A ruin, underpropp'd, am I".
Don will I then my beadsman's gown,
And when so feeble I am grown,
As my weak shoulders cannot bear
The burden of a grasshopper,
Yet with the bench of aged sires,
When I and they keep termly fires,
With my weak voice I'll sing, or say,
Some odes I made of Lucia:
Then will I heave my wither'd hand
To Jove the mighty, for to stand
Thy faithful friend, and to pour down
Upon thee many a benison.

_Zodiacs_, used as symbols of the astronomical year.
_Beadsman's_, almshouseman's.

974. TO JULIA.

Holy waters hither bring
For the sacred sprinkling:
Baptise me and thee, and so
Let us to the altar go,
And, ere we our rites commence,
Wash our hands in innocence.
Then I'll be the Rex Sacrorum,
Thou the Queen of Peace and Quorum.

_Quorum_, _i.e._, quorum of justices of the peace, sportively added
for the rhyme's sake.

975. UPON CASE.

Case is a lawyer, that ne'er pleads alone,
But when he hears the like confusion,
As when the disagreeing Commons throw
About their House, their clamorous Aye or No:
Then Case, as loud as any serjeant there,
Cries out: My lord, my lord, the case is clear.
But when all's hush'd, Case, than a fish more mute,
Bestirs his hand, but starves in hand the suit.

976. TO PERENNA.

I a dirge will pen to thee;
Thou a trentall make for me:
That the monks and friars together,
Here may sing the rest of either:
Next, I'm sure, the nuns will have
Candlemas to grace the grave.

_Trentall_, services for the dead.

977. TO HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, M. SUSANNA HERRICK.

The person crowns the place; your lot doth fall
Last, yet to be with these a principal.
Howe'er it fortuned; know for truth, I meant
You a fore-leader in this testament.

978. UPON THE LADY CREW.

This stone can tell the story of my life,
What was my birth, to whom I was a wife:
In teeming years, how soon my sun was set.
Where now I rest, these may be known by jet.
For other things, my many children be
The best and truest chronicles of me.

979. ON TOMASIN PARSONS.

Grow up in beauty, as thou dost begin,
And be of all admired, Tomasin.

980. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE.

Down with the rosemary, and so
Down with the bays and mistletoe;
Down with the holly, ivy, all,
Wherewith ye dressed 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.

981. SUSPICION MAKES SECURE.

He that will live of all cares dispossess'd,
Must shun the bad, aye, and suspect the best.

983. TO HIS KINSMAN, M. THO. HERRICK, WHO DESIRED TO BE IN HIS BOOK.

Welcome to this my college, and though late
Thou'st got a place here (standing candidate)
It matters not, since thou art chosen one
Here of my great and good foundation.

984. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO: LACON AND THYRSIS.

_Lacon._ For a kiss or two, confess,
What doth cause this pensiveness,
Thou most lovely neat-herdess?
Why so lonely on the hill?
Why thy pipe by thee so still,
That erewhile was heard so shrill?
Tell me, do thy kine now fail
To full fill the milking-pail?
Say, what is't that thou dost ail?

_Thyr._ None of these; but out, alas!
A mischance is come to pass,
And I'll tell thee what it was:
See, mine eyes are weeping-ripe.

_Lacon._ Tell, and I'll lay down my pipe.

_Thyr._ I have lost my lovely steer,
That to me was far more dear
Than these kine which I milk here:
Broad of forehead, 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, daisy rings,
Interplac'd with ribbonings:
Faultless every way for shape;
Not a straw could him escape;
Ever gamesome as an ape,
But yet harmless as a sheep.
Pardon, Lacon, if I weep;
_Tears will spring where woes are deep_.
Now, ay me! ay me! Last night
Came a mad dog and did bite,
Aye, and kill'd my dear delight.

_Lacon._ Alack, for grief!

_Thyr._ But I'll be brief.
Hence I must, for time doth call
Me, and my sad playmates all,
To his ev'ning funeral.
Live long, Lacon, so adieu!

_Lacon._ Mournful maid, farewell to you;
_Earth afford ye flowers to strew_.

_Pie_, _i.e._, a magpie.

985. UPON SAPPHO.

Look upon Sappho's lip, and you will swear
There is a love-like leaven rising there.

988. A BACCHANALIAN VERSE.

Drink up
Your cup,
But not spill wine;
For if you
Do,
'Tis an ill sign;

That we
Foresee
You are cloy'd here,
If so, no
Ho,
But avoid here.

989. CARE A GOOD KEEPER.

_Care keeps the conquest; 'tis no less renown
To keep a city than to win a town._

990. RULES FOR OUR REACH.

Men must have bounds how far to walk; for we
Are made far worse by lawless liberty.

991. TO BIANCA.

Ah, Bianca! now I see
It is noon and past with me:
In a while it will strike one;
Then, Bianca, I am gone.
Some effusions let me have
Offer'd on my holy grave;
Then, Bianca, let me rest
With my face towards the East.

992. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER.

As is your name, so is your comely face
Touch'd everywhere with such diffused grace,
As that in all that admirable round
There is not one least solecism found;
And as that part, so every portion else
Keeps line for line with beauty's parallels.

993. ANACREONTIC.

I must
Not trust
Here to any;
Bereav'd,
Deceiv'd
By so many:
As one
Undone
By my losses;
Comply
Will I
With my crosses;
Yet still
I will
Not be grieving,
Since thence
And hence
Comes relieving.
But this
Sweet is
In our mourning;
Times bad
And sad
Are a-turning:
And he
Whom we
See dejected,
Next day
We may
See erected.

994. MORE MODEST, MORE MANLY.

'Tis still observ'd those men most valiant are,
That are most modest ere they come to war.

995. NOT TO COVET MUCH WHERE LITTLE IS THE CHARGE.

Why should we covet much, whenas we know
W'ave more to bear our charge than way to go?

996. ANACREONTIC VERSE.

Brisk methinks I am, and fine
When I drink my cap'ring wine:
Then to love I do incline,
When I drink my wanton wine:
And I wish all maidens mine,
When I drink my sprightly wine:
Well I sup and well I dine,
When I drink my frolic wine;
But I languish, lower, and pine,
When I want my fragrant wine.

998. PATIENCE IN PRINCES.

_Kings must not use the axe for each offence:
Princes cure some faults by their patience._

999. FEAR GETS FORCE.

_Despair takes heart, when there's no hope to speed:
The coward then takes arms and does the deed._

1000. PARCEL-GILT POETRY.

Let's strive to be the best; the gods, we know it,
Pillars and men, hate an indifferent poet.

1001. UPON LOVE, BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER.

I bring ye love: _Quest._ What will love do?
_Ans._ Like and dislike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest._ What will love do?
_Ans._ Stroke ye to strike ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest._ What will love do?
_Ans._ Love will befool ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest._ What will love do?
Ans. Heat ye to cool 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 fulfil ye.
I bring ye love: _Quest._ What will love do?
_Ans._ Kiss ye to kill ye.

1002. TO THE LORD HOPTON, ON HIS FIGHT IN CORNWALL.

Go on, brave Hopton, to effectuate that
Which we, and times to come, shall wonder at.
Lift up thy sword; next, suffer it to fall,
And by that one blow set an end to all.

1003. HIS GRANGE.

How well contented in this private grange
Spend I my life, that's subject unto change:
Under whose roof with moss-work wrought, there I
Kiss my brown wife and black posterity.

_Grange_, a farmstead.

1004. LEPROSY IN HOUSES.

When to a house I come, and see
The Genius wasteful, more than free:
The servants thumbless, yet to eat
With lawless tooth the flour of wheat:
The sons to suck the milk of kine,
More than the teats of discipline:
The daughters wild and loose in dress,
Their cheeks unstained with shamefac'dness:
The husband drunk, the wife to be
A bawd to incivility;
I must confess, I there descry,
A house spread through with leprosy.

_Thumbless_, lazy: cp. painful thumb, _supra_.

1005. GOOD MANNERS AT MEAT.

This rule of manners I will teach my guests:
To come with their own bellies unto feasts;
Not to eat equal portions, but to rise
Farced with the food that may themselves suffice.

_Farced_, stuffed.

1006. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION.

Anthea laugh'd, and fearing lest excess
Might stretch the cords of civil comeliness,
She with a dainty blush rebuk'd her face,
And call'd each line back to his rule and space.

1007. COMFORTS IN CROSSES.

Be not dismayed though crosses cast thee down;
Thy fall is but the rising to a crown.

1008. SEEK AND FIND.

_Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;
Nothing's so hard but search will find it out._

1009. REST.

On with thy work, though thou be'st hardly press'd:
_Labour is held up by the hope of rest_.

1010. LEPROSY IN CLOTHES.

When flowing garments I behold
Inspir'd with purple, pearl and gold,
I think no other, but I see
In them a glorious leprosy
That does infect and make the rent
More mortal in the vestiment.
_As flowery vestures do descry
The wearer's rich immodesty:
So plain and simple clothes do show
Where virtue walks, not those that flow._

1012. GREAT MALADIES, LONG MEDICINES.

_To an old sore a long cure must go on:
Great faults require great satisfaction._

1013. HIS ANSWER TO A FRIEND.

You ask me what I do, and how I live?
And, noble friend, this answer I must give:
Drooping, I draw on to the vaults of death,
O'er which you'll walk, when I am laid beneath.

1014. THE BEGGAR.

Shall I a daily beggar be,
For love's sake asking alms of thee?
Still shall I crave, and never get
A hope of my desired bit?
Ah, cruel maids! I'll go my way,
Whereas, perchance, my fortunes may
Find out a threshold or a door
That may far sooner speed the poor:
Where thrice we knock, and none will hear,
Cold comfort still I'm sure lives there.

1015. BASTARDS.

Our bastard children are but like to plate
Made by the coiners--illegitimate.

1016. HIS CHANGE.

My many cares and much distress
Has made me like a wilderness;
Or, discompos'd, I'm like a rude
And all confused multitude:
Out of my comely manners worn,
And, as in means, in mind all torn.

1017. THE VISION.

Methought I saw, as I did dream in bed,
A crawling vine about Anacreon's head.
Flushed was his face; his hairs with oil did shine;
And, as he spake, his mouth ran o'er with wine.
Tippled he was, and tippling lisped withal;
And lisping reeled, and reeling like to fall.
A young enchantress close by him did stand,
Tapping his plump thighs with a myrtle wand:
She smil'd; he kiss'd; and kissing, cull'd her too,
And being cup-shot, more he could not do.
For which, methought, in pretty anger she
Snatched off his crown, and gave the wreath to me;
Since when, methinks, my brains about do swim,
And I am wild and wanton like to him.

_Cull'd_, embraced.
_Cup-shot_, drunk.

1018. A VOW TO VENUS.

Happily I had a sight
Of my dearest dear last night;
Make her this day smile on me,
And I'll roses give to thee.

1019. ON HIS BOOK.

The bound, almost, now of my book I see,
But yet no end of these therein, or me:
Here we begin new life, while thousands quite
Are lost, and theirs, in everlasting night.

1020. A SONNET OF PERILLA.

Then did I live when I did see
Perilla smile on none but me.
But, ah! by stars malignant crossed,
The life I got I quickly lost;
But yet a way there doth remain
For me embalm'd to live again,
And that's to love me; in which state
I'll live as one regenerate.

1021. BAD MAY BE BETTER.

Man may at first transgress, but next do well:
_Vice doth in some but lodge a while, not dwell_.

1022. POSTING TO PRINTING.

Let others to the printing press run fast;
Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste.

1023. RAPINE BRINGS RUIN.

What's got by justice is established sure:
_No kingdoms got by rapine long endure_.

1024. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE.

What needs complaints,
When she a place
Has with the race
Of saints?
In endless mirth,
She thinks not on
What's said or done
In earth.
She sees no tears,
Or any tone
Of thy deep groan
She hears:
Nor does she mind,
Or think on't now,
That ever thou
Wast kind;
But chang'd above,
She likes not there.
As she did here,
Thy love.
Forbear, therefore,
And lull asleep
Thy woes, and weep
No more.

1026. SAINT DISTAFF'S DAY, OR THE MORROW AFTER TWELFTH DAY.

Partly work and partly play
Ye must on S. Distaff's day:
From the plough soon free your team,
Then come home and fodder them.
If the maids a-spinning go,
Burn the flax and fire the tow;
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maidenhair.
Bring in pails of water, then,
Let the maids bewash the men.
Give S. Distaff all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night;
And next morrow everyone
To his own vocation.

_Plackets_, petticoats.

1027. SUFFERANCE.

In the hope of ease to come,
Let's endure one martyrdom.

1028. HIS TEARS TO THAMESIS.

I send, I send here my supremest kiss
To thee, my silver-footed Thamesis.
No more shall I reiterate thy Strand,
Whereon so many stately structures stand:
Nor in the summer's sweeter evenings go
To bathe in thee, as thousand others do;
No more shall I along thy crystal glide
In barge with boughs and rushes beautifi'd,
With soft-smooth virgins for our chaste disport,
To Richmond, Kingston, and to Hampton Court.
Never again shall I with finny oar
Put from, or draw unto the faithful shore:
And landing here, or safely landing there,
Make way to my beloved Westminster,
Or to the golden Cheapside, where the earth
Of Julia Herrick gave to me my birth.
May all clean nymphs and curious water-dames
With swan-like state float up and down thy streams:
No drought upon thy wanton waters fall
To make them lean and languishing at all.
No ruffling winds come hither to disease
Thy pure and silver-wristed Naiades.
Keep up your state, ye streams; and as ye spring,
Never make sick your banks by surfeiting.
Grow young with tides, and though I see ye never,
Receive this vow, so fare ye well for ever.

_Reiterate_, retread.

1029. PARDONS.

Those ends in war the best contentment bring,
_Whose peace is made up with a pardoning_.

1030. PEACE NOT PERMANENT.

_Great cities seldom rest; if there be none
T' invade from far, they'll find worse foes at home._

1031. TRUTH AND ERROR.

_'Twixt truth and error there's this difference known;
Error is fruitful, truth is only one._

1032. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE.

_Things are uncertain, and the more we get,
The more on icy pavements we are set._

1033. STUDIES TO BE SUPPORTED.

_Studies themselves will languish and decay,
When either price or praise is ta'en away._

1034. WIT PUNISHED, PROSPERS MOST.

Dread not the shackles: on with thine intent;
_Good wits get more fame by their punishment_.

1035. TWELFTH NIGHT: OR, KING AND QUEEN.

Now, now the mirth comes
With the cake full of plums,
Where bean's the king of the sport here;
Beside we must know,
The pea also
Must revel, as queen, in the court here.

Begin then to choose,
This night as ye use,
Who shall for the present delight here,
Be a king by the lot,
And who shall not
Be Twelfth-day queen for the night here.

Which known, let us make
Joy-sops with the cake;
And let not a man then be seen here,
Who unurg'd will not drink
To the base from the brink
A health to the king and the queen here.

Next crown the bowl full
With gentle lamb's wool:
Add sugar, nutmeg, and ginger,
With store of ale too;
And thus ye must do
To make the wassail a swinger.

Give then to the king
And queen wassailing:
And though with ale ye be whet here,
Yet part ye from hence,
As free from offence
As when ye innocent met here.

1036. HIS DESIRE.

Give me a man that is not dull
When all the world with rifts is full;
But unamaz'd dares clearly sing,
Whenas the roof's a-tottering:
And, though it falls, continues still
Tickling the cittern with his quill.

_Cittern_, a kind of lute; _quill_, the plectrum for striking it.

1037. CAUTION IN COUNSEL.

Know when to speak; for many times it brings
Danger to give the best advice to kings.

1038. MODERATION.

Let moderation on thy passions wait;
Who loves too much, too much the lov'd will hate.

1039. ADVICE THE BEST ACTOR.

_Still take advice; though counsels, when they fly
At random, sometimes hit most happily._

1040. CONFORMITY IS COMELY.

_Conformity gives comeliness to things:
And equal shares exclude all murmurings._

1041. LAWS.

Who violates the customs, hurts the health,
Not of one man, but all the commonwealth.

1042. THE MEAN.

'Tis much among the filthy to be clean;
_Our heat of youth can hardly keep the mean_.

1043. LIKE LOVES HIS LIKE.

Like will to like, each creature loves his kind;
Chaste words proceed still from a bashful mind.

1044. HIS HOPE OR SHEET ANCHOR.

Among these tempests great and manifold
My ship has here one only anchor-hold;
That is my hope, which if that slip, I'm one
Wildered in this vast wat'ry region.

1045. COMFORT IN CALAMITY.

'Tis no discomfort in the world to fall,
When the great crack not crushes one, but all.

1046. TWILIGHT.

The twilight is no other thing, we say,
Than night now gone, and yet not sprung the day.

1047. FALSE MOURNING.

He who wears blacks, and mourns not for the dead,
Does but deride the party buried.

_Blacks_, mourning garments.

1048. THE WILL MAKES THE WORK; OR, CONSENT MAKES THE CURE.

No grief is grown so desperate, but the ill
Is half way cured if the party will.

1049. DIET.

If wholesome diet can recure a man,
What need of physic or physician?

1050. SMART.

Stripes, justly given, yerk us with their fall;
But causeless whipping smarts the most of all.

1051. THE TINKER'S SONG.

Along, come along,
Let's meet in a throng
Here of tinkers;
And quaff up a bowl
As big as a cowl
To beer drinkers.
The pole of the hop
Place in the aleshop
To bethwack us,
If ever we think
So much as to drink
Unto Bacchus.
Who frolic will be
For little cost, he
Must not vary
From beer-broth at all,
So much as to call
For Canary.

1052. HIS COMFORT.

The only comfort of my life
Is, that I never yet had wife;
Nor will hereafter; since I know
Who weds, o'er-buys his weal with woe

1053. SINCERITY.

Wash clean the vessel, lest ye sour
Whatever liquor in ye pour.

1054. TO ANTHEA.

Sick is Anthea, sickly is the spring,
The primrose sick, and sickly everything;
The while my dear Anthea does but droop,
The tulips, lilies, daffodils do stoop:
But when again she's got her healthful hour,
Each bending then will rise a proper flower.

1055. NOR BUYING OR SELLING.

Now, if you love me, tell me,
For as I will not sell ye,
So not one cross to buy thee
I'll give, if thou deny me.

_Cross_, a coin.

1056. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, M. JO. WICKS.

Since shed or cottage I have none,
I sing the more, that thou hast one
To whose glad threshold, and free door,
I may a poet come, though poor,
And eat with thee a savoury bit,
Paying but common thanks for it.
Yet should I chance, my Wicks, to see
An over-leaven look in thee,
To sour the bread, and turn the beer
To an exalted vinegar:
Or should'st thou prize me as a dish
Of thrice-boiled worts, or third-day's fish;
I'd rather hungry go and come,
Than to thy house be burdensome;
Yet, in my depth of grief, I'd be
One that should drop his beads for thee.

_Worts_, cabbages.
_Drop his beads_, _i.e._, pray.

1057. THE MORE MIGHTY, THE MORE MERCIFUL.

_Who may do most, does least: the bravest will
Show mercy there, where they have power to kill._

1058. AFTER AUTUMN, WINTER.

Die ere long, I'm sure, I shall;
After leaves, the tree must fall.

1059. A GOOD DEATH.

For truth I may this sentence tell,
_No man dies ill, that liveth well_.

1060. RECOMPENSE.

Who plants an olive, but to eat the oil?
_Reward, we know, is the chief end of toil_.

1061. ON FORTUNE.

This is my comfort when she's most unkind:
She can but spoil me of my means, not mind.

1062. TO SIR GEORGE PARRY, DOCTOR OF THE CIVIL LAW.

I have my laurel chaplet on my head
If, 'mongst these many numbers to be read,
But one by you be hugg'd and cherished.

Peruse my measures thoroughly, and where
Your judgment finds a guilty poem, there
Be you a judge; but not a judge severe.

The mean pass by, or over, none contemn;
The good applaud; the peccant less condemn,
Since absolution you can give to them.

Stand forth, brave man, here to the public sight;
And in my book now claim a twofold right:
The first as doctor, and the last as knight.

1063. CHARMS.

This I'll tell ye by the way:
Maidens, when ye leavens lay,
Cross your dough, and your dispatch
Will be better for your batch.

1064. ANOTHER.

In the morning when ye rise,
Wash your hands and cleanse your eyes.
Next be sure ye have a care
To disperse the water far;
For as far as that doth light,
So far keeps the evil sprite.

1065. ANOTHER.

If ye fear to be affrighted
When ye are by chance benighted,
In your pocket for a trust
Carry nothing but a crust:
For that holy piece of bread
Charms the danger and the dread.

1067. GENTLENESS.

_That prince must govern with a gentle hand
Who will have love comply with his command._

1068. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARYLLIS.

_Her._ My dearest love, since thou wilt go,
And leave me here behind thee,
For love or pity let me know
The place where I may find thee.

_Ama._ In country meadows pearl'd with dew,
And set about with lilies,
There, filling maunds with cowslips, you
May find your Amaryllis.

_Her._ What have the meads to do with thee,
Or with thy youthful hours?
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 gems to shine,
And like the stars to glitter.

_Ama._ You set too high a rate upon
A shepherdess so homely.
_Her._ Believe it, dearest, there's not one
I' th' Court that's half so comely.

I prithee stay. _Ama._ I must away;
Let's kiss first, then we'll sever.
_Ambo._ And though we bid adieu to-day,
We shall not part for ever.

_Maunds_, baskets.

1069. TO JULIA.

Help me, Julia, for to pray,
Matins sing, or matins say:
This, I know, the fiend will fly
Far away, if thou be'st by.
Bring the holy water hither,
Let us wash and pray together;
When our beads are thus united,
Then the foe will fly affrighted.

_Beads_, prayers.

1070. TO ROSES IN JULIA'S BOSOM.

Roses, you can never die,
Since the place wherein ye lie,
Heat and moisture mix'd are so
As to make ye ever grow.

1071. TO THE HONOURED MASTER ENDYMION PORTER.

When to thy porch I come and ravish'd see
The state of poets there attending thee,
Those bards and I, all in a chorus sing:
We are thy prophets, Porter, thou our king.

1072. SPEAK IN SEASON.

When times are troubled, then forbear; but speak
When a clear day out of a cloud does break.

1073. OBEDIENCE.

The power of princes rests in the consent
Of only those who are obedient:
Which if away, proud sceptres then will lie
Low, and of thrones the ancient majesty.

1074. ANOTHER OF THE SAME.

_No man so well a kingdom rules as he
Who hath himself obeyed the sovereignty._

1075. OF LOVE.

1. Instruct me now what love will do.
2. 'Twill make a tongueless man to woo.
1. Inform me next, what love will do.
2. 'Twill strangely make a one of two.
1. Teach me besides, what love will do.
2. 'Twill quickly mar, and make ye too.
1. Tell me now last, what love will do.
2. 'Twill hurt and heal a heart pierc'd through.

1076. UPON TRAP.

Trap of a player turn'd a priest now is:
Behold a sudden metamorphosis.
If tithe-pigs fail, then will he shift the scene,
And from a priest turn player once again.

1080. THE SCHOOL OR PEARL OF PUTNEY, THE MISTRESS OF ALL SINGULAR MANNERS, MISTRESS PORTMAN.

Whether I was myself, or else did see
Out of myself that glorious hierarchy;
Or whether those, in orders rare, or these
Made up one state of sixty Venuses;
Or whether fairies, syrens, nymphs they were,
Or muses on their mountain sitting there;
Or some enchanted place, I do not know,
Or Sharon, where eternal roses grow.
This I am sure: I ravished stood, as one
Confus'd in utter admiration.
Methought I saw them stir, and gently move,
And look as all were capable of love;
And in their motion smelt much like to flowers
Inspir'd by th' sunbeams after dews and showers.
There did I see the reverend rectress stand,
Who with her eye's gleam, or a glance of hand,
Those spirits raised; and with like precepts then,
As with a magic, laid them all again.
_A happy realm! When no compulsive law,
Or fear of it, but love keeps all in awe._
Live you, great mistress of your arts, and be
A nursing mother so to majesty,
As those your ladies may in time be seen,
For grace and carriage, everyone a queen.
One birth their parents gave them; but their new,
And better being, they receive from you.
_Man's former birth is graceless; but the state
Of life comes in, when he's regenerate._

1081. TO PERENNA.

Thou say'st I'm dull; if edgeless so I be,
I'll whet my lips, and sharpen love on thee.

1082. ON HIMSELF.

Let me not live if I not love:
Since I as yet did never prove
Where pleasures met, at last do find
All pleasures meet in womankind.

1083. ON LOVE.

That love 'twixt men does ever longest last
Where war and peace the dice by turns do cast.

1084. ANOTHER ON LOVE.

Love's of itself too sweet; the best of all
Is, when love's honey has a dash of gall.

1086. UPON CHUB.

When Chub brings in his harvest, still he cries,
"Aha, my boys! here's meat for Christmas pies!"
Soon after he for beer so scores his wheat,
That at the tide he has not bread to eat.

1087. PLEASURES PERNICIOUS.

Where pleasures rule a kingdom, never there
Is sober virtue seen to move her sphere.

1088. ON HIMSELF.

A wearied pilgrim, I have wandered here
Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year;
Long I have lasted in this world, 'tis true,
But yet those years that I have lived, but few.
Who by his grey hairs doth his lusters tell,
Lives not those years, but he that lives them well.
One man has reach'd his sixty years, but he
Of all those threescore, has not liv'd half three.
_He lives, who lives to virtue; men who cast
Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last._

_Luster_, five years.

1089. TO M. LAURENCE SWETNAHAM.

Read thou my lines, my Swetnaham; if there be
A fault, 'tis hid if it be voic'd by thee.
Thy mouth will make the sourest numbers please:
How will it drop pure honey speaking these!

1090. HIS COVENANT; OR, PROTESTATION TO JULIA.

Why dost thou wound and break my heart,
As if we should for ever part?
Hast thou not heard an oath from me,
After a day, or two, or three,
I would come back and live with thee?
Take, if thou dost distrust that vow,
This second protestation now.
Upon thy cheek that spangled tear,
Which sits as dew of roses there,
That tear shall scarce be dried before
I'll kiss the threshold of thy door.
Then weep not, sweet; but thus much know,
I'm half return'd before I go.

1091. ON HIMSELF.

I will no longer kiss,
I can no longer stay;
The way of all flesh is
That I must go this day.
Since longer I can't live,
My frolic youths, adieu;
My lamp to you I'll give,
And all my troubles too.

1092. TO THE MOST ACCOMPLISHED GENTLEMAN, M. MICHAEL OULSWORTH.

Nor think that thou in this my book art worst,
Because not plac'd here with the midst, or first.
Since fame that sides with these, or goes before
Those, that must live with thee for evermore;
That fame, and fame's rear'd pillar, thou shalt see
In the next sheet, brave man, to follow thee.
Fix on that column then, and never fall,
Held up by Fame's eternal pedestal.

_In the next sheet._ See 1129.

1093. TO HIS GIRLS, WHO WOULD HAVE HIM SPORTFUL.

Alas! I can't, for tell me, how
Can I be gamesome, aged now?
Besides, ye see me daily grow
Here, winter-like, to frost and snow;
And I, ere long, my girls, shall see
Ye quake for cold to look on me.

1094. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD.

_Truth by her own simplicity is known,
Falsehood by varnish and vermilion._

1095. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA.

I have been wanton and too bold, I fear,
To chafe o'ermuch the virgin's cheek or ear.
Beg for my pardon, Julia: _he doth win
Grace with the gods who's sorry for his sin_.
That done, my Julia, dearest Julia, come
And go with me to choose my burial room:
My fates are ended; when thy Herrick dies,
Clasp thou his book, then close thou up his eyes.

1096. ON HIMSELF.

One ear tingles; some there be
That are snarling now at me:
Be they those that Homer bit,
I will give them thanks for it.

1097. UPON KINGS.

_Kings must be dauntless; subjects will contemn
Those who want hearts and wear a diadem._

1098. TO HIS GIRLS.

Wanton wenches, do not bring
For my hairs black colouring:
For my locks, girls, let 'em be
Grey or white, all's one to me.

1100. TO HIS BROTHER, NICHOLAS HERRICK.

What others have with cheapness seen and ease
In varnish'd maps, by th' help of compasses,
Or read in volumes and those books with all
Their large narrations incanonical,
Thou hast beheld those seas and countries far,
And tell'st to us what once they were, and are.
So that with bold truth thou can'st now relate
This kingdom's fortune, and that empire's fate:
Can'st talk to us of Sharon, where a spring
Of roses have an endless flourishing;
Of Sion, Sinai, Nebo, and with them
Make known to us the new Jerusalem;
The Mount of Olives, Calvary, and where
Is, and hast seen, thy Saviour's sepulchre.
So that the man that will but lay his ears
As inapostate to the thing he hears,
Shall by his hearing quickly come to see
The truth of travels less in books than thee.

_Large_, exaggerated.
_Incanonical_, untrustworthy.

1101. THE VOICE AND VIOL.

Rare is the voice itself: but when we sing
To th' lute or viol, then 'tis ravishing.

1102. WAR.

If kings and kingdoms once distracted be,
The sword of war must try the sovereignty

1103. A KING AND NO KING.

_That prince who may do nothing but what's just,
Rules but by leave, and takes his crown on trust._

1104. PLOTS NOT STILL PROSPEROUS.

All are not ill plots that do sometimes fail;
Nor those false vows which ofttimes don't prevail.

1105. FLATTERY.

What is't that wastes a prince? example shows,
'Tis flattery spends a king, more than his foes.

1109. EXCESS.

Excess is sluttish: keep the mean; for why?
Virtue's clean conclave is sobriety.

_Conclave_, guard.

1111. THE SOUL IS THE SALT.

The body's salt the soul is; which when gone,
The flesh soon sucks in putrefaction.

1117. ABSTINENCE.

Against diseases here the strongest fence
Is the defensive virtue, abstinence.

1118. NO DANGER TO MEN DESPERATE.

When fear admits no hope of safety, then
Necessity makes dastards valiant men.

1119. SAUCE FOR SORROWS.

Although our suffering meet with no relief,
_An equal mind is the best sauce for grief_.

1120. TO CUPID.

I have a leaden, thou a shaft of gold;
Thou kill'st with heat, and I strike dead with cold.
Let's try of us who shall the first expire;
Or thou by frost, or I by quenchless fire:
_Extremes are fatal where they once do strike,
And bring to th' heart destruction both alike_.

1121. DISTRUST.

Whatever men for loyalty pretend,
_'Tis wisdom's part to doubt a faithful friend_.

1123. THE MOUNT OF THE MUSES.

After thy labour take thine ease,
Here with the sweet Pierides.
But if so be that men will not
Give thee the laurel crown for lot;
Be yet assur'd, thou shall have one
Not subject to corruption.

1124. ON HIMSELF.

I'll write no more of love; but now repent
Of all those times that I in it have spent.
I'll write no more of life; but wish 'twas ended,
And that my dust was to the earth commended.

1125. TO HIS BOOK.

Go thou forth, my book, though late:
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 lie.
If thou know'st not where to dwell,
See, the fire's by: farewell.

1126. THE END OF HIS WORK.

Part of the work remains; one part is past:
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.

1127. TO CROWN IT.

My wearied bark, O let it now be crown'd!
The haven reach'd to which I first was bound.

1128. ON HIMSELF.

The work is done: young men and maidens, set
Upon my curls the myrtle coronet
Washed with sweet ointments: thus at last I come
To suffer in the Muses' martyrdom;
But with this comfort, if my blood be shed,
The Muses will wear blacks when I am dead.

_Blacks_, mourning garments.

1129. THE PILLAR OF FAME.

Fame's pillar here, at last, we set,
Outduring marble, brass, or jet.
Charm'd and enchanted so
As to withstand the blow
Of o v e r t h r o w;
Nor shall the seas,
Or o u t r a g e s
Of storms o'erbear
What we uprear.
Tho' kingdoms fall,
This pillar never shall
Decline or waste at all;
But stand for ever by his own
Firm and well-fix'd foundation.

To his book's end this last line he'd have placed:
_Jocund his muse was, but his life was chaste_.

HIS

NOBLE NUMBERS:

_OR_,

HIS PIOUS PIECES,

Wherein (amongst other things)

he sings the Birth of his CHRIST;
and sighes for his _Saviours_ suffering
on the _Crosse_.

HESIOD.

Ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα.
Ἴδμεν δ', εὖτ' ἐθέλωμεν, ἀληθέα μυθήσασθαι.

LONDON
Printed for _John Williams_, and _Francis Eglesfield_.
1647.

HIS NOBLE NUMBERS:

OR,

HIS PIOUS PIECES.

1. HIS CONFESSION.

Look how our foul days do exceed our fair;
And as our bad, more than our good works are,
E'en so those lines, pen'd by my wanton wit,
Treble the number of these good I've writ.
Things precious are least numerous: men are prone
To do ten bad for one good action.

2. HIS PRAYER FOR ABSOLUTION.

For those my unbaptised rhymes,
Writ in my wild unhallowed times;
For every sentence, clause, and word,
That's not inlaid with Thee, my Lord,
Forgive me, God, and blot each line
Out of my book that is not Thine.
But if, 'mongst all, thou find'st here one
Worthy Thy benediction;
That one of all the rest shall be
The glory of my work and me.

3. TO FIND GOD.