By Robert Herrick

Arranged with introduction by Francis Turner Palgrave

CONTENTS PREFACE C H R Y S O M E L A PREFATORY 1. THE ARGUMENT OF HIS BOOK 2. TO HIS MUSE 3. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ 4. TO HIS BOOK 5. TO HIS BOOK 6. TO HIS BOOK 7. TO MISTRESS KATHARINE BRADSHAW, THE LOVELY 8. TO HIS VERSES 9. NOT EVERY DAY FIT FOR VERSE 10. HIS PRAYER TO BEN JONSON 11. HIS REQUEST TO JULIA 12. TO HIS BOOK 13. HIS POETRY HIS PILLAR 14. TO HIS BOOK 15. UPON HIMSELF IDYLLICA 16. THE COUNTRY LIFE: 17. TO PHILLIS, TO LOVE AND LIVE WITH HIM 18. THE WASSAIL 19. THE FAIRIES 20. CEREMONY UPON CANDLEMAS EVE 21. CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE 22. THE CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS DAY 23. FAREWELL FROST, OR WELCOME SPRING 24. TO THE MAIDS, TO WALK ABROAD 25. CORINA'S GOING A MAYING 26. THE MAYPOLE 27. THE WAKE 28. THE HOCK-CART, OR HARVEST HOME: 29. THE BRIDE-CAKE 30. THE OLD WIVES' PRAYER 31. THE BELL-MAN 33. TO THE GENIUS OF HIS HOUSE 33. HIS GRANGE, OR PRIVATE WEALTH 34. A PASTORAL UPON THE BIRTH OF PRINCE CHARLES: 35. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZA WHEELER 36. A BUCOLIC BETWIXT TWO; LACON AND THYRSIS 37. A PASTORAL SUNG TO THE KING 38. TO THE WILLOW-TREE

39. THE FAIRY TEMPLE; OR, OBERON'S CHAPEL 40. OBERON'S FEAST 41. THE BEGGAR TO MAB, THE FAIRY QUEEN 42. THE HAG 43. THE MAD MAID'S SONG 44. THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR, THE UNGENTLE GUEST 45. UPON CUPID 46. TO BE MERRY 47. UPON HIS GRAY HAIRS 48. AN HYMN TO THE MUSES 49. THE COMING OF GOOD LUCK 50. HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY 51. HIS RETURN TO LONDON 52. HIS DESIRE 53. AN ODE FOR BEN JONSON 54. TO LIVE MERRILY, AND TO TRUST TO GOOD VERSES 55. THE APPARITION OF HIS, MISTRESS, CALLING HIM TO ELYSIUM 56. THE INVITATION 57. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW 58. A COUNTRY LIFE: TO HIS BROTHER, MR THOMAS HERRICK 59. TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS 60. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSE TO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS 61. TO HIS HONOURED AND MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND MR CHARLES COTTON 62. A NEW YEAR'S GIFT, SENT TO SIR SIMEON STEWARD 63. AN ODE TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW 64. A PANEGYRIC TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON 65. ALL THINGS DECAY AND DIE 66. TO HIS DYING BROTHER, MASTER WILLIAM HERRICK 67. HIS AGE: 68. THE BAD SEASON MAKES THE POET SAD 69. ON HIMSELF 70. HIS WINDING-SHEET 71. ANACREONTIC 72. TO LAURELS 73. ON HIMSELF

74. ON HIMSELF 75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST 76. THE OLIVE BRANCH 77. THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE 78. TO GROVES AMORES 79. MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS 80. A VOW TO VENUS 81. UPON LOVE 82. UPON JULIA'S CLOTHES 83. THE BRACELET TO JULIA 84. UPON JULIA'S RIBBON 85. TO JULIA 86. ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA 87. HER BED 88. THE ROCK OF RUBIES, AND THE QUARRY OF PEARLS 89. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA 90. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY 91. UPON JULIA'S HAIR FILLED WITH DEW 92. CHERRY RIPE 93. THE CAPTIVE BEE; OR, THE LITTLE FILCHER 94. UPON ROSES 95. HOW HIS SOUL CAME ENSNARED 96. UPON JULIA'S VOICE 97. THE NIGHT PIECE: TO JULIA 98. HIS COVENANT OR PROTESTATION TO JULIA 99. HIS SAILING FROM JULIA 100. HIS LAST REQUEST TO JULIA 101. THE TRANSFIGURATION 102. LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING 103. UPON LOVE 104. TO DIANEME 105. TO PERENNA 106. TO OENONE. 107. TO ELECTRA 108. TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANY THING 109. ANTHEA'S RETRACTATION 110. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED 111. TO DIANEME 112. UPON HER EYES 113. UPON HER FEET 114. UPON A DELAYING LADY 115. THE CRUEL MAID

116. TO HIS MISTRESS, OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING 117. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND 118. THE BUBBLE: A SONG 119. DELIGHT IN DISORDER 120. TO SILVIA 121. TO SILVIA TO WED 122. BARLEY-BREAK; OR, LAST IN HELL 123. ON A PERFUMED LADY 124. THE PARCAE; OR, THREE DAINTY DESTINIES: THE ARMILET 125. A CONJURATION: TO ELECTRA 126. TO SAPHO 127. OF LOVE: A SONNET 128. TO DIANEME 129. TO DIANEME 130. KISSING USURY 131. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES 132. THE WOUNDED HEART 133. HIS MISTRESS TO HIM AT HIS FAREWELL 134. CRUTCHES 135. TO ANTHEA 136. TO ANTHEA 137. TO HIS LOVELY MISTRESSES 138. TO PERILLA 139. A MEDITATION FOR HIS MISTRESS 140. TO THE VIRGINS, TO MAKE MUCH OF TIME EPIGRAMS 141. POSTING TO PRINTING 142. HIS LOSS 143. THINGS MORTAL STILL MUTABLE 144. NO MAN WITHOUT MONEY 145. THE PRESENT TIME BEST PLEASETH 146. WANT 147. SATISFACTION FOR SUFFERINGS 148. WRITING 149. THE DEFINITION OF BEAUTY 150. A MEAN IN OUR MEANS 151. MONEY MAKES THE MIRTH 152. TEARS AND LAUGHTER 153. UPON TEARS 154. ON LOVE 155. PEACE NOT PERMANENT 156. PARDONS 157. TRUTH AND ERROR

158. WIT PUNISHED PROSPERS MOST 159. BURIAL 160. NO PAINS, NO GAINS 161. TO YOUTH 162. TO ENJOY THE TIME 163. FELICITY QUICK OF FLIGHT 164. MIRTH 165. THE HEART 166. LOVE, WHAT IT IS 167. DREAMS 168. AMBITION 169. SAFETY ON THE SHORE 170. UPON A PAINTED GENTLEWOMAN 171. UPON WRINKLES 172. CASUALTIES 173. TO LIVE FREELY 174. NOTHING FREE-COST 175. MAN'S DYING-PLACE UNCERTAIN 176. LOSS FROM THE LEAST 177. POVERTY AND RICHES 178. UPON MAN 179. PURPOSES 180. FOUR THINGS MAKE US HAPPY HERE 181. THE WATCH 182. UPON THE DETRACTER 183. ON HIMSELF NATURE AND LIFE 184. I CALL AND I CALL 185. THE SUCCESSION OF THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS 186. TO BLOSSOMS 187. THE SHOWER OF BLOSSOMS 188. TO THE ROSE: SONG 189. THE FUNERAL RITES OF THE ROSE 190. THE BLEEDING HAND; OR THE SPRIG OF EGLANTINE GIVEN TO A MAID 191. TO CARNATIONS: A SONG 192. TO PANSIES 193. HOW PANSIES OR HEARTS-EASE CAME FIRST 194. WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR 195. THE PRIMROSE 196. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW 197. TO DAISIES, NOT TO SHUT SO SOON 198. TO DAFFADILS 199. TO VIOLETS 200. THE APRON OF FLOWERS 201. THE LILY IN A CRYSTAL

202. TO MEADOWS 203. TO A GENTLEWOMAN, OBJECTING TO HIM HIS GRAY HAIRS 204. THE CHANGES: TO CORINNA 205. UPON MRS ELIZ. WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS 206. NO FAULT IN WOMEN 207. THE BAG OF THE BEE 208. THE PRESENT; OR, THE BAG OF THE BEE: 209. TO THE WATER-NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN 210. HOW SPRINGS CAME FIRST 211. TO THE HANDSOME MISTRESS GRACE POTTER 212. A HYMN TO THE GRACES 213. A HYMN TO LOVE 214. UPON LOVE: BY WAY OF QUESTION AND ANSWER 215. LOVERS HOW THEY COME AND PART 216. THE KISS: A DIALOGUE 217. COMFORT TO A YOUTH THAT HAD LOST HIS LOVE 218. ORPHEUS 219. A REQUEST TO THE GRACES 220. A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID 221. TO BACCHUS: A CANTICLE 222. A HYMN TO BACCHUS 223. A CANTICLE TO APOLLO 224. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM A SWEET SICK YOUTH 225. TO MUSIC: A SONG 226. SOFT MUSIC 227. TO MUSIC 228. THE VOICE AND VIOL 229. TO MUSIC, TO BECALM HIS FEVER MUSAE GRAVIORES 230. A THANKSGIVING TO GOD, FOR HIS HOUSE 231. MATINS, OR MORNING PRAYER 232. GOOD PRECEPTS, OR COUNSEL 233. PRAY AND PROSPER 234. THE BELL-MAN 235. UPON TIME 236. MEN MIND NO STATE IN SICKNESS

237. LIFE IS THE BODY'S LIGHT 238. TO THE LADY CREWE, UPON THE DEATH OF HER CHILD 239. UPON A CHILD THAT DIED 240. UPON A CHILD 241. AN EPITAPH UPON A CHILD 242. AN EPITAPH UPON A VIRGIN 243. UPON A MAID 244. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER: SUNG BY THE VIRGINS 245. THE WIDOWS' TEARS; OR, DIRGE OF DORCAS 246. UPON HIS SISTER-IN-LAW, MISTRESS ELIZABETH HERRICK 247. TO HIS KINSWOMAN, MISTRESS SUSANNA HERRICK 248. ON HIMSELF 249. HIS WISH TO PRIVACY 250. TO HIS PATERNAL COUNTRY 251. COCK-CROW 252. TO HIS CONSCIENCE 253. TO HEAVEN 254. AN ODE OF THE BIRTH OF OUR SAVIOUR 255. TO HIS SAVIOUR, A CHILD; A PRESENT, BY A CHILD 256. GRACE FOR A CHILD 257. HIS LITANY, TO THE HOLY SPIRIT 258. TO DEATH 259. TO HIS SWEET SAVIOUR 260. ETERNITY 261. THE WHITE ISLAND: OR PLACE OF THE BLEST

PREFACE

ROBERT HERRICK - Born 1591 : Died 1674

Those who most admire the Poet from whose many pieces a selection only is here offered, will, it is probable, feel most strongly (with the Editor) that excuse is needed for an attempt of an obviously presumptuous nature. The choice made by any selector invites challenge: the admission, perhaps, of some poems, the absence of more, will be censured:—Whilst others may wholly condemn the process, in virtue of an argument not unfrequently advanced of late, that a writer's judgment on his own work is to be considered final. And his book to be taken as he left it, or left altogether; a literal reproduction of the original text being occasionally included in this requirement.

If poetry were composed solely for her faithful band of true lovers and true students, such a facsimile as that last indicated would have claims irresistible; but if the first and last object of this, as of the other Fine Arts, may be defined in language borrowed from a different range of thought, as 'the greatest pleasure of the greatest number,' it is certain that less stringent forms of reproduction are required and justified. The great majority of readers cannot bring either leisure or taste, or information sufficient to take them through a large mass (at any rate) of ancient verse, not even if it be Spenser's or Milton's. Manners and modes of speech, again, have changed; and much that was admissible centuries since, or at least sought admission, has now, by a law against which protest is idle, lapsed into the indecorous. Even unaccustomed forms of spelling are an effort to the eye;—a kind of friction, which diminishes the ease and enjoyment of the reader.

These hindrances and clogs, of very diverse nature, cannot be disregarded by Poetry. In common with everything which aims at human benefit, she must work not only for the 'faithful': she has also the duty of 'conversion.' Like a messenger from heaven, it is hers to inspire, to console, to elevate: to convert the world, in a word, to herself. Every rough place that slackens her footsteps must be made smooth; nor, in this Art, need there be fear that the way will ever be vulgarized by too much ease, nor that she will be loved less by the elect, for being loved more widely.

Passing from these general considerations, it is true that a selection framed in conformity with them, especially if one of our older poets be concerned, parts with a certain portion of the pleasure which poetry may confer. A writer is most thoroughly to be judged by the whole of what he printed. A selector inevitably holds too despotic a position over his author. The frankness of speech which we have abandoned is an interesting evidence how the tone of manners changes. The poet's own spelling and punctuation bear, or may bear, a gleam of his personality. But such last drops of pleasure are the reward of fully-formed taste; and fully-formed taste cannot be reached without full knowledge. This, we have noticed, most readers cannot bring. Hence, despite all drawbacks, an anthology may have its place. A book which tempts many to read a little, will guide some to that more profound and loving study of which the result is, the full accomplishment of the poet's mission.

We have, probably, no poet to whom the reasons here advanced to justify the invidious task of selection apply more fully and forcibly than to Herrick. Highly as he is to be rated among our lyrists, no one who reads through his fourteen hundred pieces can reasonably doubt that whatever may have been the influences,—wholly unknown to us,—which determined the contents of his volume, severe taste was not one of them. PECAT FORTITER:—his exquisite directness and simplicity of speech repeatedly take such form that the book cannot be offered to a very large number of those readers who would most enjoy it. The spelling is at once arbitrary and obsolete. Lastly, the complete reproduction of the original text, with explanatory notes, edited by Mr Grosart, supplies materials equally full and interesting for those who may, haply, be allured by this little book to master one of our most attractive poets in his integrity.

In Herrick's single own edition of HESPERIDES and NOBLE NUMBERS, but little arrangement is traceable: nor have we more than a few internal signs of date in composition. It would hence be unwise to attempt grouping the poems on a strict plan: and the divisions under which they are here ranged must be regarded rather as progressive aspects of a landscape than as territorial demarcations. Pieces bearing on the poet as such are placed first; then, those vaguely definable as of idyllic character, 'his girls,' epigrams, poems on natural objects, on character and life; lastly, a few in his religious vein. For the text, although reference has been made to the original of 1647-8, Mr Grosart's excellent reprint has been mainly followed. And to that edition this book is indebted for many valuable exegetical notes, kindly placed at the Editor's disposal. But for much fuller elucidation both of words and allusions, and of the persons mentioned, readers are referred to Mr Grosart's volumes, which (like the same scholar's 'Sidney' and 'Donne'), for the first time give Herrick a

place among books not printed only, but edited.

Robert Herrick's personal fate is in one point like Shakespeare's. We know or seem to know them both, through their works, with singular intimacy. But with this our knowledge substantially ends. No private letter of Shakespeare, no record of his conversation, no account of the circumstances in which his writings were published, remains: hardly any statement how his greatest contemporaries ranked him. A group of Herrick's youthful letters on business has, indeed, been preserved; of his life and studies, of his reputation during his own time, almost nothing. For whatever facts affectionate diligence could now gather. Readers are referred to Mr Grosart's 'Introduction.' But if, to supplement the picture, inevitably imperfect, which this gives, we turn to Herrick's own book, we learn little, biographically, except the names of a few friends,—that his general sympathies were with the Royal cause,—and that he wearied in Devonshire for London. So far as is known, he published but this one volume, and that, when not far from his sixtieth year. Some

pieces may be traced in earlier collections; some few carry ascertainable dates; the rest lie over a period of near forty years, during a great portion of which we have no distinct account where Herrick lived, or what were his employments. We know that he shone with Ben Jonson and the wits at the nights and suppers of those gods of our glorious early literature: we may fancy him at Beaumanor, or Houghton, with his uncle and cousins, keeping a Leicestershire Christmas in the Manor-house: or, again, in some sweet southern county with Julia and Anthea, Corinna and Dianeme by his side (familiar then by other names now never to be remembered), sitting merry, but with just the sadness of one who hears sweet music, in some meadow among his favourite flowers of spring-time;—there, or 'where the rose lingers latest.' .... But 'the dream, the fancy,' is all that Time has spared us. And if it be curious that his contemporaries should have left so little record of this delightful poet and (as we should infer from the book) genial-hearted man, it is not less so that the single first

edition should have satisfied the seventeenth century, and that, before the present, notices of Herrick should be of the rarest occurrence.

The artist's 'claim to exist' is, however, always far less to be looked for in his life, than in his art, upon the secret of which the fullest biography can tell us little—as little, perhaps, as criticism can analyse its charm. But there are few of our poets who stand less in need than Herrick of commentaries of this description,—in which too often we find little more than a dull or florid prose version of what the author has given us admirably in verse. Apart from obsolete words or allusions, Herrick is the best commentator upon Herrick. A few lines only need therefore here be added, aiming rather to set forth his place in the sequence of English poets, and especially in regard to those near his own time, than to point out in detail beauties which he unveils in his own way, and so most durably and delightfully.

When our Muses, silent or sick for a century and more after Chaucer's death, during the years of war and revolution, reappeared, they brought with them foreign modes of art, ancient and contemporary, in the forms of which they began to set to music the new material which the age supplied. At the very outset, indeed, the moralizing philosophy which has characterized the English from the beginning of our national history, appears in the writers of the troubled times lying between the last regnal years of Henry VIII and the first of his great daughter. But with the happier hopes of Elizabeth's accession, poetry was once more distinctly followed, not only as a means of conveying thought, but as a Fine Art. And hence something constrained and artificial blends with the freshness of the Elizabethan literature. For its great underlying elements it necessarily reverts to those embodied in our own earlier poets, Chaucer above all, to whom, after barely one hundred and fifty years, men looked up as a father of song: but in points of style and treatment, the poets of

the sixteenth century lie under a double external influence—that of the poets of Greece and Rome (known either in their own tongues or by translation), and that of the modern literatures which had themselves undergone the same classical impulse. Italy was the source most regarded during the more strictly Elizabethan period; whence its lyrical poetry and the dramatic in a less degree, are coloured much less by pure and severe classicalism with its closeness to reality, than by the allegorical and elaborate style, fancy and fact curiously blended, which had been generated in Italy under the peculiar and local circumstances of her pilgrimage in literature and art from the age of Dante onwards. Whilst that influence lasted, such brilliant pictures of actual life, such directness, movement, and simplicity in style, as Chaucer often shows, were not yet again attainable: and although satire, narrative, the poetry of reflection, were meanwhile not wholly unknown, yet they only appear in force at the close of this period. And then also the pressure of political

and religious strife, veiled in poetry during the greater part of Elizabeth's actual reign under the forms of pastoral and allegory, again imperiously breaks in upon the gracious but somewhat slender and artificial fashions of England's Helicon: the DIVOM NUMEN, SEDESQUE QUIETAE which, in some degree the Elizabethan poets offer, disappear; until filling the central years of the seventeenth century we reach an age as barren for inspiration of new song as the Wars of the Roses; although the great survivors from earlier years mask this sterility;—masking also the revolution in poetical manner and matter which we can see secretly preparing in the later 'Cavalier' poets, but which was not clearly recognised before the time of Dryden's culmination.

In the period here briefly sketched, what is Herrick's portion? His verse is eminent for sweet and gracious fluency; this is a real note of the 'Elizabethan' poets. His subjects are frequently pastoral, with a classical tinge, more or less slight, infused; his language, though not free from exaggeration, is generally free from intellectual conceits and distortion, and is eminent throughout for a youthful NAIVETE. Such, also, are qualities of the latter sixteenth century literature. But if these characteristics might lead us to call Herrick 'the last of the Elizabethans,' born out of due time, the differences between him and them are not less marked. Herrick's directness of speech is accompanied by an equally clear and simple presentment of his thought; we have, perhaps, no poet who writes more consistently and earnestly with his eye upon his subject. An allegorical or mystical treatment is alien from him: he handles awkwardly the few traditional fables which he introduces. He is also wholly free from Italianizing tendencies: his classicalism even is