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Lyrical Poems [27]

By Root 1425 0
Of you that I may have A sacred laurel springing from my grave: Which being seen Blest with perpetual green, May grow to be Not so much call'd a tree, As the eternal monument of me.


*73*

ON HIMSELF

Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light; And weep for me, lost in an endless night; Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me, Who writ for many. BENEDICTE.


*74*

ON HIMSELF

Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone Here now I rest under this marble stone, In depth of silence, heard and seen of none.


*75*

TO ROBIN RED-BREAST

Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS!


*76*

THE OLIVE BRANCH

Sadly I walk'd within the field, To see what comfort it would yield; And as I went my private way, An olive-branch before me lay; And seeing it, I made a stay, And took it up, and view'd it; then Kissing the omen, said Amen; Be, be it so, and let this be A divination unto me; That in short time my woes shall cease, And love shall crown my end with peace.


*77*

THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE

If after rude and boisterous seas My wearied pinnace here finds ease; If so it be I've gain'd the shore, With safety of a faithful oar; If having run my barque on ground, Ye see the aged vessel crown'd; What's to be done? but on the sands Ye dance and sing, and now clap hands. --The first act's doubtful, but (we say) It is the last commends the Play.


*

AMORES

*78*

TO GROVES

Ye silent shades, whose each tree here Some relique of a saint doth wear; Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove The fire and martyrdom of Love:-- Here is the legend of those saints That died for love, and their complaints; Their wounded hearts, and names we find Encarved upon the leaves and rind. Give way, give way to me, who come Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom! And have deserved as much, Love knows, As to be canonized 'mongst those Whose deeds and deaths here written are Within your Greeny-kalendar. --By all those virgins' fillets hung Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung For saints and souls departed hence, Here honour'd still with frankincense; By all those tears that have been shed, As a drink-offering to the dead; By all those true-love knots, that be With mottoes carved on every tree; By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me; By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest Of all those other saints now blest, Me, me forsaken,--here admit Among your myrtles to be writ; That my poor name may have the glory To live remember'd in your story.


** AMORES **


*79*

MRS ELIZ: WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS

Among the myrtles as I walk'd Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: Tell me, said I, in deep distress, Where I may find my Shepherdess? --Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this? In every thing that's sweet she is. In yond' carnation go and seek, There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; In that enamell'd pansy by, There thou shalt have her curious eye; In bloom of peach and rose's bud, There waves the streamer of her blood. --'Tis true, said I; and thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, To make of parts an union; But on a sudden all were gone. At which I stopp'd; Said Love, these be The true resemblances of thee; For as these flowers, thy joys must die; And in the turning of an eye; And all thy hopes of her must wither, Like those short sweets here knit together.


*80*

A VOW TO VENUS

Happily I had a sight Of my dearest dear last night; Make her this day smile on me, And I'll roses give to thee!


*81*

UPON LOVE

A crystal vial Cupid brought, Which had a juice in it: Of which who drank, he said, no thought Of Love he should admit.

I, greedy of the prize, did drink, And emptied soon the glass; Which burnt me so, that I do think The fire of hell it was.

Give me my earthen cups again, The crystal I contemn, Which, though enchased with pearls, contain
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