_The eyes be first that
conquered
are.
Robert Herrick
_ Ovid, _Heroid.
_ i.
12: Res est
solliciti plena timoris amor.
287. _Reverence to riches. _ Perhaps from Tacit. _Ann. _ ii. 33: Neque in
familia et argento quaeque ad usum parantur nimium aliquid aut modicum,
nisi ex fortuna possidentis.
288. _Who forms a godhead. _ From Martial, VIII. xxiv. 5:--
Qui fingit sacros auro vel marmore vultus
Non facit ille deos: qui rogat, ille facit.
290.
_The eyes be first that conquered are. _ From Tacitus, _Germ. _ 43:
Primi in omnibus proeliis oculi vincuntur.
293. _Oberon's Feast. _ For a note on Herrick's Fairy Poems and on the
_Description of the King and Queene of the Fayries_ (1635), in which
part of this poem was first printed, see Appendix. Add. MS. 22, 603, at
the British Museum, and Ashmole MS. 38, at the Bodleian, contain early
versions of the poem substantially agreeing. I transcribe the Museum
copy:--
"A little mushroom table spread
After _the dance_, they set on bread,
A _yellow corn of hecky_ wheat
With some small _sandy_ grit to eat
His choice bits; with _which_ in a trice
They make a feast less great than nice.
But all _the_ while his eye _was_ served
We _dare_ not think his ear was sterved:
But that there was in place to stir
His _fire_ the _pittering_ Grasshopper;
The merry Cricket, puling Fly,
The piping Gnat for minstralcy.
_The Humming Dor, the dying Swan,
And each a choice Musician. _
And now we must imagine first,
The Elves present to quench his thirst
A pure seed-pearl of infant dew,
Brought and _beswetted_ in a blue
And pregnant violet; which done,
His kitling eyes begin to run
Quite through the table, where he spies
The horns of papery Butterflies:
Of which he eats, _but with_ a little
_Neat cool allay_ of Cuckoo's spittle;
A little Fuz-ball pudding stands
By, yet not blessed by his hands--
That was too coarse, but _he not spares
To feed upon the candid hairs
Of a dried canker, with a_ sagg
And well _bestuffed_ Bee's sweet bag:
_Stroking_ his pallet with some store
Of Emme_t_ eggs. What would he more,
But Beards of Mice, _an Ewt's_ stew'd thigh,
_A pickled maggot and a dry
Hipp, with a_ Red cap worm, that's shut
Within the concave of a Nut
Brown as his tooth, _and with the fat
And well-boiled inchpin of a Bat.
A bloated Earwig with the Pith
Of sugared rush aglads him with;
But most of all the Glow-worm's fire.
solliciti plena timoris amor.
287. _Reverence to riches. _ Perhaps from Tacit. _Ann. _ ii. 33: Neque in
familia et argento quaeque ad usum parantur nimium aliquid aut modicum,
nisi ex fortuna possidentis.
288. _Who forms a godhead. _ From Martial, VIII. xxiv. 5:--
Qui fingit sacros auro vel marmore vultus
Non facit ille deos: qui rogat, ille facit.
290.
_The eyes be first that conquered are. _ From Tacitus, _Germ. _ 43:
Primi in omnibus proeliis oculi vincuntur.
293. _Oberon's Feast. _ For a note on Herrick's Fairy Poems and on the
_Description of the King and Queene of the Fayries_ (1635), in which
part of this poem was first printed, see Appendix. Add. MS. 22, 603, at
the British Museum, and Ashmole MS. 38, at the Bodleian, contain early
versions of the poem substantially agreeing. I transcribe the Museum
copy:--
"A little mushroom table spread
After _the dance_, they set on bread,
A _yellow corn of hecky_ wheat
With some small _sandy_ grit to eat
His choice bits; with _which_ in a trice
They make a feast less great than nice.
But all _the_ while his eye _was_ served
We _dare_ not think his ear was sterved:
But that there was in place to stir
His _fire_ the _pittering_ Grasshopper;
The merry Cricket, puling Fly,
The piping Gnat for minstralcy.
_The Humming Dor, the dying Swan,
And each a choice Musician. _
And now we must imagine first,
The Elves present to quench his thirst
A pure seed-pearl of infant dew,
Brought and _beswetted_ in a blue
And pregnant violet; which done,
His kitling eyes begin to run
Quite through the table, where he spies
The horns of papery Butterflies:
Of which he eats, _but with_ a little
_Neat cool allay_ of Cuckoo's spittle;
A little Fuz-ball pudding stands
By, yet not blessed by his hands--
That was too coarse, but _he not spares
To feed upon the candid hairs
Of a dried canker, with a_ sagg
And well _bestuffed_ Bee's sweet bag:
_Stroking_ his pallet with some store
Of Emme_t_ eggs. What would he more,
But Beards of Mice, _an Ewt's_ stew'd thigh,
_A pickled maggot and a dry
Hipp, with a_ Red cap worm, that's shut
Within the concave of a Nut
Brown as his tooth, _and with the fat
And well-boiled inchpin of a Bat.
A bloated Earwig with the Pith
Of sugared rush aglads him with;
But most of all the Glow-worm's fire.
