321. EVENSONG.
Begin with Jove; then is the work half done, And runs most smoothly when "tis well begun.
Jove"s is the first and last: the morn"s his due, The midst is thine; but Jove"s the evening too; As sure a matins does to him belong, So sure he lays claim to the evensong.
322. THE BRACELET TO JULIA.
Why I tie about thy wrist, Julia, this my silken twist; For what other reason is"t, But to show thee how, in part, Thou my pretty captive art?
But thy bondslave is my heart; "Tis but silk 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 could, I would not so.
323. THE CHRISTIAN MILITANT.
A man prepar"d against all ills to come, That dares to dead the fire of martyrdom; That sleeps at home, and sailing there at ease, Fears not the fierce sedition of the seas; That"s counter-proof against the farm"s mishaps, Undreadful too of courtly thunderclaps; That wears one face, like heaven, and never shows A change when fortune either comes or goes; That keeps his own strong guard in the despite Of what can hurt by day or harm by night; That takes and re-delivers every stroke Of chance (as made up all of rock and oak); That sighs at others" death, smiles at his own Most dire and horrid crucifixion.
Who for true glory suffers thus, we grant Him to be here our Christian militant.
324. A SHORT HYMN TO LAR.
Though I cannot give thee fires Glittering to my free desires; These accept, and I"ll be free, Offering poppy unto thee.
325. ANOTHER TO NEPTUNE.
Mighty Neptune, may it please Thee, the rector of the seas, That my barque may safely run Through thy watery region; And a tunny-fish shall be Offered up with thanks to thee.
327. HIS EMBALMING TO JULIA.
For my embalming, Julia, do but this; Give thou my lips but their supremest kiss, Or else transfuse thy breath into the chest Where my small relics must for ever rest; That breath the balm, the myrrh, the nard shall be, To give an incorruption unto me.
328. GOLD BEFORE GOODNESS.
How rich a man is all desire to know; But none inquires if good he be or no.
329. THE KISS. A DIALOGUE.
1. Among thy fancies tell me this, What is the thing we call a kiss?
2. I shall resolve ye what it is.
It is a creature born and bred Between the lips (all cherry-red), By love and warm desires fed.
_Chor._ And makes more soft the bridal bed.
2. It is an active flame that flies, First, to the babies of the eyes; And charms them there with lullabies.
_Chor._ And stills the bride, too, when she cries.
2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, It frisks and flies, now here, now there, "Tis now far off, and then "tis near.
_Chor._ And here and there and everywhere.
1. Has it a speaking virtue? 2. Yes.
1. How speaks it, say? 2. Do you but this; Part your joined lips, then speaks your kiss _Chor._ And this love"s sweetest language is.
1. Has it a body? 2. Aye, and wings With thousand rare encolourings; And, as it flies, it gently sings, _Chor._ Love honey yields, but never stings.
330. THE ADMONITION.
Seest thou those diamonds which she wears In that rich carcanet; Or those, on her dishevell"d hairs, Fair pearls in order set?
Believe, young man, all those were tears By wretched wooers sent, In mournful hyacinths and rue, That figure discontent; Which when not warmed by her view, By cold neglect, each one Congeal"d to pearl and stone; Which precious spoils upon her She wears as trophies of her honour.
Ah then, consider, what all this implies: She that will wear thy tears would wear thine eyes.
_Carcanet_, necklace.
331. TO HIS HONOURED KINSMAN, SIR WILLIAM SOAME. EPIG.
I can but name thee, and methinks I call All that have been, or are canonical For love and bounty to come near, and see Their many virtues volum"d up in thee; In thee, brave man! whose incorrupted fame Casts forth a light like to a virgin flame; And as it shines it throws a scent about, As when a rainbow in perfumes goes out.
So vanish hence, but leave a name as sweet As benjamin and storax when they meet.
_Benjamin_, gum benzoin.
_Storax_ or _Styrax_, another resinous gum.
332. ON HIMSELF.
Ask me why I do not sing To the tension of the string As I did not long ago, When my numbers full did flow?
Grief, ay, me! hath struck my lute And my tongue, at one time, mute.
333. TO LAR.
No more shall I, since I am driven hence, Devote to thee my grains of frankincense; No more shall I from mantle-trees hang down, To honour thee, my little parsley crown; No more shall I (I fear me) to thee bring My chives of garlic for an offering; No more shall I from henceforth hear a choir Of merry crickets by my country fire.
Go where I will, thou lucky Lar stay here, Warm by a glitt"ring chimney all the year.
_Chives_, shreds.
334. THE DEPARTURE OF THE GOOD DEMON.
What can I do in poetry Now the good spirit"s gone from me?
Why, nothing now but lonely sit And over-read what I have writ.
335. CLEMENCY.
For punishment in war it will suffice If the chief author of the faction dies; Let but few smart, but strike a fear through all; Where the fault springs there let the judgment fall.