Nor must we only part in joy;

Our tears as well must be unkind : Weep you, that could such truth destroy, And I, that could such falseness find! Thus we must unconcern'd remain

In our divided joys and pain.

Yet we may love, but on this different score, You what I am, I what you were before.

The Resolution.

No, Cynthia; never think I can
Love a divided heart and mind:
Your sunshine love to every man
Appears alike as great as kind.

None but the duller Persians kneel,
And the bright god of beams implore;

Whilst others equal influence feel,
That never did the god adore.

Though I resolve to love no more,
Since I did once, I will advise :

The love of conquests now give o’er;
Disquiets wait on victories.

To your much injur'd peace and name Love's farewell as a tribute pay; Grow now reserv'd, and raise your fame By your own choice, not your decay.

She that to age her charms resigns,
And then at last turns votary,
Though virtue much the change inclines,
"Tis sullied by necessity.

ROBERT HERRICK

66

Was author of a poetical volume published under the title of Hesperides," 1648, 8vo. which contains two little pieces, printed among Carew's poems, under the titles of "the Primrose," and "the Inquiry." Phillips, in his “Theatrum Poetarum," thinks him "not particularly influenced "by any Nymph or goddess, except his maid Pru:" but allows him to have shewn occasionally a pretty flowery "and pastoral gale of fancy," &c. Wood tells us (Ath. II. 122) that he was a Londoner born, though of a Leicestershire family; elected fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, from St John's, but took no degree; that being patronized by the earl of Exeter, he afterwards resided in Devonshire, much beloved, till, forced to withdraw, he retired to London, where he was still living, subsequent to the Restoration. For farther particulars, see the Gentleman's Magazine for 1796, p. 461, 645.

To Virgins.

HEAR, ye virgins, and I'll teach
What the times of old did preach.
Rosamond was in a bower

Kept, as Danae in a tower:
But yet love, who subtle is,
Crept to that, and came to this.

Be ye lock'd up like to these,
Or the rich Hesperides ;

Or those babies in your eyes,
In their crystal nunneries;
Notwithstanding, Love will win,
Or else force a passage in ;
And as coy be as you can,
Gifts will get ye, or the man.

A Meditation for his Mistress.

You are a tulip, seen to-day,

But, dearest, of so short a stay,

That where you grew scarce man can say.

You are a lovely July-flower,

Yet one rude wind or ruffling shower
Will force you hence, and in an hour.

You are a sparkling rose i' th' bud,—
Yet lost, ere that chaste flesh and blood
Can show where you or grew, or stood.

*

*

*

梁

You are a dainty violet,—

Yet wither'd, ere you can be set
Within the virgin's coronet.

You are the queen all flowers among,-
But die you must, fair maid, ere long,
As he, the maker of this song.

The Bag of the Bee.

[To be found also in " Wit a sporting in a pleasant Grove of new fancies," collected by H. B. 1657.]

ABOUT the sweet bag of a bee

Two Cupids fell at odds;

And whose the pretty prize should be
They vow'd to ask the gods.

Which Venus hearing, thither came,
And for their boldness stript them,
And, taking from them each his flame,
With rods of myrtle whipt them.

Which done, to still their wanton * cries,
When quiet grown she'd seen them,
She kiss'd, and wip'd their dove-like eyes,
And gave the bag between them.

* "the wantons'," in "Wit a sporting."