I, felix rosa, mollibusque sertis Nostri cinge comas Apollinaris.
241. _Upon a painted Gentlewoman._ Printed in _Witts Recreations_, 1650, under the t.i.tle, _On a painted madame_.
250. _Mildmay, Earl of Westmoreland._ See Note to 112. According to the date of the earl"s succession, this poem must have been written after 1628.
253. _He that will not love_, etc. Ovid, _Rem. Am._ 15, 16:--
Si quis male fert indignae regna puellae, Ne pereat nostrae sentiat artis opem.
_How she is her own least part._ _Ib._ 344: Pars minima est ipsa puella sui, quoted by Bacon, Burton, Lyly, and Montaigne.
Printed in _Witts Recreations_, 1654, with the variants, "_freezing_ colds and _fiery_ heats," and "and how she is _in every_ part".
256. _Had Lesbia_, etc. See Catullus, _Carm_. iii.
260. _How violets came blue._ Printed in _Witts Recreations_, 1654, as _How the violets came blue_. The first two lines read:--
"The violets, as poets tell, With Venus wrangling went".
Other variants are _did_ for _sho"d_ in l. 3; _Girl_ for _Girls_; _you_ for _ye_; _do_ for _dare_.
264. _That verse_, etc. Herrick repeats this a.s.surance in a different context in the second of his _n.o.ble Numbers_, _His Prayer for Absolution_.
269. _The G.o.ds to Kings the judgment give to sway._ From Tacitus, _Ann._ vi. 8 (M. Terentius to Tiberius): Tibi summum rerum judicium dii dedere; n.o.bis obsequi gloria relicta est.
270. _He that may sin, sins least._ Ovid, _Amor._ III. iv. 9, 10:--
Cui peccare licet, peccat minus: ipsa potestas Semina nequitiae languidiora facit.
271. _Upon a maid that died the day she was married._ Cp. Meleager, Anth. Pal. vii. 182:
?? ???? ???" ??da? ?p???f?d??? ??ea??sta d??at? pa??e??a? ?ata ?????a?
??t? ??? ?sp????? ??fa? ?p? d????s?? ??e??
??t??, ?a? ?a???? ?p?ata?e??t? ???a??
???? d" ???????? ?????a???, ?? d" ???a???
s??a?e?? ??e??? f???a e?a??sat?, ?? d" a?ta? ?a? f????? ?d?d?????? pa?? past?
pe??a? ?a? f????? ????e? ?fa???? ?d??.
278. _To his Household G.o.ds._ Obviously written at the time of his ejection from his living.
283. _A Nuptial Song on Sir Clipseby Crew._ Of this Epithalamium (written in 1625 for the marriage of Sir Clipseby Crew, knighted by James I. at Theobald"s in 1620, with Jane, daughter of Sir John Pulteney), two ma.n.u.script versions, substantially agreeing, are preserved at the British Museum (Harl. MS. 6917, and Add. 25, 303).
Seven verses are transcribed in these ma.n.u.scripts which Herrick afterwards saw fit to omit, and almost every verse contains variants of importance. It is impossible to convey the effect of the earlier version by a mere collation, and I therefore transcribe it in full, despite its length. As before, variants and additions are printed in italics. The numbers in brackets are those of the later version, as given in _Hesperides_. The marginal readings are variants of Add. 25, 303, from the Harleian ma.n.u.script.
1 [1].
"What"s that we see from far? the spring of Day Bloom"d from the East, or fair _enamell"d_ May Blown out of April; or some new Star fill"d with glory to our view, Reaching at Heaven, To add a n.o.bler Planet to the seven?
Say or do we not descry Some G.o.ddess in a Cloud of Tiffany To move, or rather the Emerg_ing_ Venus from the sea?
2 [2].
""Tis she! "tis she! or else some more Divine Enlightened substance; mark how from the shrine Of holy Saints she paces on _Throwing about_ Vermilion And Amber: spice- ing the chafte-air with fumes of Paradise.
Then come on, come on, and yield A savour like unto a blessed field, When the bedabbled morn Washes the golden ears of corn.
3.
"_Lead on fair paranymphs, the while her eyes, Guilty of somewhat, ripe the strawberries And cherries in her cheeks, there"s cream Already spilt, her rays must gleam Gently thereon, And so beget l.u.s.t and temptation To surfeit and to hunger.
Help on her pace; and, though she lag, yet stir Her homewards; well she knows Her heart"s at home, howe"er she goes._
4 [3].
"See where she comes; and smell how all the street Breathes Vine-yards and Pomegranates: O how sweet, As a fir"d Altar, is each stone _Spirting forth_ pounded Cinnamon.
The Phnix nest, Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who _would not then_ consume His soul to _ashes_ in that rich perfume? [ash-heaps Bestroking Fate the while He burns to embers on the Pile.
5 [4].
"Hymen, O Hymen! tread the sacred _round_ [ground Shew thy white feet, and head with Marjoram crowned: Mount up thy flames, and let thy Torch Display _thy_ Bridegroom in the porch In his desires More towering, more _besparkling_ than thy fires: [disparkling Shew her how his eyes do turn And roll about, and in their motions burn Their b.a.l.l.s to cinders: haste Or, _like a firebrand_, he will waste.
6.
"_See how he waves his hand, and through his eyes Shoots forth his jealous soul, for to surprise And ravish you his Bride, do you Not now perceive the soul of C[lipseby] C[rew], Your mayden knight, With kisses to inspire You with his just and holy ire._
7 [5].
"_If so, glide through the ranks of Virgins_, pa.s.s The Showers of Roses, lucky four-leaved gra.s.s: The while the cloud of younglings sing, And drown _you_ with a flowery spring: While some repeat Your praise, and bless you, sprinkling you with Wheat, While that others do divine, "Blest is the Bride on whom the Sun doth shine"; And thousands gladly wish You multiply as _do the_ fish.
8.
"_Why then go forward, sweet Auspicious Bride, And come upon your Bridegroom like a Tide Bearing down Time before you; hye Swell, mix, and loose your souls; imply Like streams which flow Encurled together, and no difference show In their [most] silver waters; run Into your selves like wool together spun.
Or blend so as the sight Of two makes one Hermaphrodite._
9 [6].
"And, beauteous Bride, we do confess _you_ are wise _On drawing_ forth _those_ bashful jealousies [doling In love"s name, do so; and a price Set on yourself by being nice.
But yet take heed What now you seem be not the same indeed, And turn Apostat_a_: Love will Part of the way be met, or sit stone still; On them, and though _y"are slow In going_ yet, howsoever go.
10.
"_How long, soft Bride, shall your dear C[lipseby] make Love to your welcome with the mystic cake, How long, oh pardon, shall the house And the smooth Handmaids pay their vows With oil and wine For your approach, yet see their Altars pine?