Thou had'st the wreath before, now take the tree,
That henceforth none be laurel-crown'd but thee.
That henceforth none be laurel-crown'd but thee.
Robert Herrick
VALENTINE'S DAY.
Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say
Birds choose their mates, and couple too this day;
But by their flight I never can divine
When I shall couple with my valentine.
382. UPON M. BEN. JONSON. EPIG.
After the rare arch-poet, Jonson, died,
The sock grew loathsome, and the buskin's pride,
Together with the stage's glory, stood
Each like a poor and pitied widowhood.
The cirque profan'd was, and all postures rack'd;
For men did strut, and stride, and stare, not act.
Then temper flew from words, and men did squeak,
Look red, and blow, and bluster, but not speak;
No holy rage or frantic fires did stir
Or flash about the spacious theatre.
No clap of hands, or shout, or praise's proof
Did crack the play-house sides, or cleave her roof.
Artless the scene was, and that monstrous sin
Of deep and arrant ignorance came in:
Such ignorance as theirs was who once hiss'd
At thy unequall'd play, the _Alchemist_;
Oh, fie upon 'em! Lastly, too, all wit
In utter darkness did, and still will sit,
Sleeping the luckless age out, till that she
Her resurrection has again with thee.
383. ANOTHER.
Thou had'st the wreath before, now take the tree,
That henceforth none be laurel-crown'd but thee.
384. TO HIS NEPHEW, TO BE PROSPEROUS IN HIS ART OF PAINTING.
On, as thou hast begun, brave youth, and get
The palm from Urbin, Titian, Tintoret,
Brugel and Coxu, and the works outdo
Of Holbein and that mighty Rubens too.
So draw and paint as none may do the like,
No, not the glory of the world, Vandyke.
_Urbin_, Raphael.
_Brugel_, Jan Breughel, Dutch landscape painter (1569-1625), or his
father or brother.
_Coxu_, Michael van Coxcie, Flemish painter (1497-1592).
386. A VOW TO MARS.
Store of courage to me grant,
Now I'm turn'd a combatant;
Help me, so that I my shield,
Fighting, lose not in the field.
That's the greatest shame of all
That in warfare can befall.
Do but this, and there shall be
Offer'd up a wolf to thee.
387. TO HIS MAID, PREW.
These summer-birds 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 coming winter's cold.
Oft have I heard both youths and virgins say
Birds choose their mates, and couple too this day;
But by their flight I never can divine
When I shall couple with my valentine.
382. UPON M. BEN. JONSON. EPIG.
After the rare arch-poet, Jonson, died,
The sock grew loathsome, and the buskin's pride,
Together with the stage's glory, stood
Each like a poor and pitied widowhood.
The cirque profan'd was, and all postures rack'd;
For men did strut, and stride, and stare, not act.
Then temper flew from words, and men did squeak,
Look red, and blow, and bluster, but not speak;
No holy rage or frantic fires did stir
Or flash about the spacious theatre.
No clap of hands, or shout, or praise's proof
Did crack the play-house sides, or cleave her roof.
Artless the scene was, and that monstrous sin
Of deep and arrant ignorance came in:
Such ignorance as theirs was who once hiss'd
At thy unequall'd play, the _Alchemist_;
Oh, fie upon 'em! Lastly, too, all wit
In utter darkness did, and still will sit,
Sleeping the luckless age out, till that she
Her resurrection has again with thee.
383. ANOTHER.
Thou had'st the wreath before, now take the tree,
That henceforth none be laurel-crown'd but thee.
384. TO HIS NEPHEW, TO BE PROSPEROUS IN HIS ART OF PAINTING.
On, as thou hast begun, brave youth, and get
The palm from Urbin, Titian, Tintoret,
Brugel and Coxu, and the works outdo
Of Holbein and that mighty Rubens too.
So draw and paint as none may do the like,
No, not the glory of the world, Vandyke.
_Urbin_, Raphael.
_Brugel_, Jan Breughel, Dutch landscape painter (1569-1625), or his
father or brother.
_Coxu_, Michael van Coxcie, Flemish painter (1497-1592).
386. A VOW TO MARS.
Store of courage to me grant,
Now I'm turn'd a combatant;
Help me, so that I my shield,
Fighting, lose not in the field.
That's the greatest shame of all
That in warfare can befall.
Do but this, and there shall be
Offer'd up a wolf to thee.
387. TO HIS MAID, PREW.
These summer-birds 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 coming winter's cold.
