Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 44

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

271. A Child's Grace

HERE a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand; Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat and on us all. Amen.

paddocks] frogs.

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

272. Epitaph upon a Child that died

HERE she lies, a pretty bud, Lately made of flesh and blood: Who as soon fell fast asleep As her little eyes did peep.

Give her strewings, but not stir The earth that lightly covers her.

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

273. Another

HERE a pretty baby lies Sung asleep with lullabies: Pray be silent and not stir Th' easy earth that covers her.

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

274. His Winding-sheet

COME thou, who are the wine and wit Of all I've writ: The grace, the glory, and the best Piece of the rest.

Thou art of what I did intend The all and end; And what was made, was made to meet Thee, thee, my sheet.

Come then and be to my chaste side Both bed and bride: We two, as reliques left, will have Once rest, one grave: And hugging close, we will not fear l.u.s.t entering here: Where all desires are dead and cold As is the mould; And all affections are forgot, Or trouble not.

Here, here, the slaves and prisoners be From shackles free: And weeping widows long oppress'd Do here find rest.

The wronged client ends his laws Here, and his cause.

Here those long suits of Chancery lie Quiet, or die: And all Star-Chamber bills do cease Or hold their peace.

Here needs no Court for our Request Where all are best, All wise, all equal, and all just Alike i' th' dust.

Nor need we here to fear the frown Of court or crown: Where fortune bears no sway o'er things, There all are kings.

In this securer place we'll keep As lull'd asleep; Or for a little time we'll lie As robes laid by; To be another day re-worn, Turn'd, but not torn: Or like old testaments engross'd, Lock'd up, not lost.

And for a while lie here conceal'd, To be reveal'd Next at the great Platonick year, And then meet here.

Platonick year] the perfect or cyclic year, when the sun, moon, and five planets end their revolutions together and start anew. See Timaeus, p. 39.

Robert Herrick. 1591-1674

275. Litany to the Holy Spirit

IN the hour of my distress, When temptations me oppress, And when I my sins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When I lie within my bed, Sick in heart and sick in head, And with doubts discomforted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the house doth sigh and weep, And the world is drown'd in sleep, Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the pa.s.sing bell doth toll, And the Furies in a shoal Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tapers now burn blue, And the comforters are few, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the priest his last hath pray'd, And I nod to what is said, 'Cause my speech is now decay'd, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When, G.o.d knows, I'm toss'd about Either with despair or doubt; Yet before the gla.s.s be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the tempter me pursu'th With the sins of all my youth, And half d.a.m.ns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the flames and h.e.l.lish cries Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes, And all terrors me surprise, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

When the Judgment is reveal'd, And that open'd which was seal'd, When to Thee I have appeal'd, Sweet Spirit, comfort me!

Francis Quarles. 1592-1644

276. A Divine Rapture

E'EN like two little bank-dividing brooks, That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, And having ranged and search'd a thousand nooks, Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, Where in a greater current they conjoin: So I my Best-beloved's am; so He is mine.

E'en so we met; and after long pursuit, E'en so we joined; we both became entire; No need for either to renew a suit, For I was flax, and He was flames of fire: Our firm-united souls did more than twine; So I my Best-beloved's am; so He is mine.

If all those glittering Monarchs, that command The servile quarters of this earthly ball, Should tender in exchange their shares of land, I would not change my fortunes for them all: Their wealth is but a counter to my coin: The world 's but theirs; but my Beloved's mine.

Francis Quarles. 1592-1644

277. Respice Finem Epigram

MY soul, sit thou a patient looker-on; Judge not the play before the play is done: Her plot hath many changes; every day Speaks a new scene; the last act crowns the play.

Henry King, Bishop of Chichester. 1592-1669

278. A Contemplation upon Flowers

BRAVE flowers--that I could gallant it like you, And be as little vain!

You come abroad, and make a harmless show, And to your beds of earth again.

You are not proud: you know your birth: For your embroider'd garments are from earth.

You do obey your months and times, but I Would have it ever Spring: My fate would know no Winter, never die, Nor think of such a thing.

O that I could my bed of earth but view And smile, and look as cheerfully as you!

O teach me to see Death and not to fear, But rather to take truce!

How often have I seen you at a bier, And there look fresh and spruce!

You fragrant flowers! then teach me, that my breath Like yours may sweeten and perfume my death.