The Hesperides Noble Numbers: Vol. 1 and 2 | Page 7

hope to have it after all.
_Hock-cart_, the last cart from the harvest-field.?_Wakes_, village festivals, properly on the dedication-day of a church. _Ambergris_, 'grey amber,' much used in perfumery.
2. TO HIS MUSE.
Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam??Far safer 'twere to stay at home,?Where thou mayst sit and piping please?The poor and private cottages,?Since cotes and hamlets best agree?With this thy meaner minstrelsy.?There with the reed thou mayst express?The shepherd's fleecy happiness,?And with thy eclogues intermix?Some smooth and harmless bucolics.?There on a hillock thou mayst sing?Unto a handsome shepherdling,?Or to a girl, that keeps the neat,?With breath more sweet than violet.?There, there, perhaps, such lines as these?May take the simple villages;?But for the court, the country wit?Is despicable unto it.?Stay, then, at home, and do not go?Or fly abroad to seek for woe.?Contempts in courts and cities dwell,?No critic haunts the poor man's cell,?Where thou mayst hear thine own lines read?By no one tongue there censured.?That man's unwise will search for ill,?And may prevent it, sitting still.
3. TO HIS BOOK.
While thou didst keep thy candour undefil'd,?Dearly I lov'd thee as my first-born child,?But when I saw thee wantonly to roam?From house to house, and never stay at home,?I brake my bonds of love, and bade thee go,?Regardless whether well thou sped'st or no.?On with thy fortunes then, whate'er they be:?If good, I'll smile; if bad, I'll sigh for thee.
4. ANOTHER.
To read my book the virgin shy?May blush while Brutus standeth by,?But when he's gone, read through what's writ,?And never stain a cheek for it.
_Brutus_, see Martial, xi. 16, quoted in Note at the end of the volume.
7. TO HIS BOOK.
Come thou not near those men who are like bread?O'er-leaven'd, or like cheese o'er-renneted.
8. WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ.
In sober mornings, do not thou rehearse?The holy incantation of a verse;?But when that men have both well drunk and fed,?Let my enchantments then be sung or read.?When laurel spirts i'th' fire, and when the hearth?Smiles to itself, and gilds the roof with mirth;?When up the thyrse[C] is rais'd, and when the sound?Of sacred orgies[D] flies, a round, a round.?When the rose reigns, and locks with ointments shine,?Let rigid Cato read these lines of mine.
_Round_, a rustic dance.?_Cato_, see Martial, x. 17, quoted in Note.
[C] "A javelin twined with ivy" (Note in the original edition).
[D] "Songs to Bacchus" (Note in the original edition.)
9. UPON JULIA'S RECOVERY.
Droop, droop no more, or hang the head,?Ye roses almost withered;?Now strength and newer purple get,?Each here declining violet.?O primroses! let this day be?A resurrection unto ye;?And to all flowers ally'd in blood,?Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood:?For health on Julia's cheek hath shed?Claret and cream commingled;?And those her lips do now appear?As beams of coral, but more clear.
_Beams_, perhaps here = branches: but cp. 440.
10. TO SILVIA TO WED.
Let us, though late, at last, my Silvia, wed,?And loving lie in one devoted bed.?Thy watch may stand, my minutes fly post-haste;?No sound calls back the year that once is past.?Then, sweetest Silvia, let's no longer stay;?_True love, we know, precipitates delay._?Away with doubts, all scruples hence remove;?_No man at one time can be wise and love._
11. THE PARLIAMENT OF ROSES TO JULIA.
I dreamt the roses one time went?To meet and sit in parliament;?The place for these, and for the rest?Of flowers, was thy spotless breast,?Over the which a state was drawn?Of tiffanie or cobweb lawn.?Then in that parly all those powers?Voted the rose the queen of flowers;?But so as that herself should be?The maid of honour unto thee.
_State_, a canopy.?_Tiffanie_, gauze.?_Parly_, a parliament.
12. NO BASHFULNESS IN BEGGING.
To get thine ends, lay bashfulness aside;?_Who fears to ask doth teach to be deny'd._
13. THE FROZEN HEART.
I freeze, I freeze, and nothing dwells?In me but snow and icicles.?For pity's sake, give your advice,?To melt this snow and thaw this ice.?I'll drink down flames; but if so be?Nothing but love can supple me,?I'll rather keep this frost and snow?Than to be thaw'd or heated so.
14. TO PERILLA.
Ah, my Perilla! dost thou grieve to see?Me, day by day, to steal away from thee??Age calls me hence, and my grey hairs bid come,?And haste away to mine eternal home;?'Twill not be long, Perilla, after this,?That I must give thee the supremest kiss.?Dead when I am, first cast in salt, and bring?Part of the cream from that religious spring;?With which, Perilla, wash my hands and feet;?That done, then wind me in that very sheet?Which wrapt thy smooth limbs when thou didst implore?The gods' protection but the night before.?Follow me weeping to my turf, and there?Let fall a primrose, and with it a tear:?Then, lastly, let some weekly-strewings be?Devoted to the memory of me:?Then shall my ghost not walk about, but keep?Still in the cool and silent shades of sleep.
_Weekly strewings_, _i.e._, of flowers on his grave.?_First cast in salt_, cp. 769.
15. A SONG TO THE