Yet, though now of Muse bereft,
I have still the manners left
For to thank you, noble sir,
For those gifts you do confer
Upon him who only can
Be in prose a grateful man.
I have still the manners left
For to thank you, noble sir,
For those gifts you do confer
Upon him who only can
Be in prose a grateful man.
Robert Herrick
How can I choose but kiss her, whence does come
The storax, spikenard, myrrh, and laudanum?
_Pomander_, ball of scent.
486. LOSS FROM THE LEAST.
Great men by small means oft are overthrown;
_He's lord of thy life who contemns his own_.
487. REWARD AND PUNISHMENTS.
All things are open to these two events,
Or to rewards, or else to punishments.
488. SHAME NO STATIST.
Shame is a bad attendant to a state:
_He rents his crown that fears the people's hate_.
489. TO SIR CLIPSEBY CREW.
Since to the country first I came
I have lost my former flame:
And, methinks, I not inherit,
As I did, my ravish'd spirit.
If I write a verse or two,
'Tis with very much ado;
In regard I want that wine
Which should conjure up a line.
Yet, though now of Muse bereft,
I have still the manners left
For to thank you, noble sir,
For those gifts you do confer
Upon him who only can
Be in prose a grateful man.
490. UPON HIMSELF.
I could never love indeed;
Never see mine own heart bleed:
Never crucify my life,
Or for widow, maid, or wife.
I could never seek to please
One or many mistresses:
Never like their lips to swear
Oil of roses still smelt there.
I could never break my sleep,
Fold mine arms, sob, sigh, or weep:
Never beg, or humbly woo
With oaths and lies, as others do.
I could never walk alone;
Put a shirt of sackcloth on:
Never keep a fast, or pray
For good luck in love that day.
But have hitherto liv'd free
As the air that circles me:
And kept credit with my heart,
Neither broke i' th' whole, or part.
491. FRESH CHEESE AND CREAM.
Would ye have fresh cheese and cream?
Julia's breast can give you them:
And, if more, each nipple cries:
To your cream here's strawberries.
492. AN ECLOGUE OR PASTORAL BETWEEN ENDYMION PORTER AND LYCIDAS HERRICK,
SET AND SUNG.
_End. _ Ah!