.- X?!' CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Cornell University Library PR3513.M82 Robert Herrick; a biographical and critic 3 1924 013 185 891 M\\\ Cornell University WE Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013185891 ROBERT HERRICK A BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL STUDV ROBERT HERRICK A BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL STUDY BY F. W. MOORMAN, B.A., PH.D. ASSISTANT PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF LEEDS THOMAS NELSON AND SONS, Ltd. LONDON, EDINBURGH, AND NEW YORK First published igio PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS TO MY WIFE PREFACE The charm of Herrick's personality, quite apart from his high standing as a lyric poet, calls for a biography. Thirty-four years have passed since there appeared, almost simultaneously, Mr Edmund Gosse's brilliant essay on the poet in the Cornhill Magazine, and Dr Grosart's edition of the Hesperides, with its scholarly Memorial-Introduction. The many editions of Herrick's poems which have since been published furnish abundant evidence of the fact that the poet's faith in the immor- tality of his verses was no idle dream. Some of his editors — ^in particular, Mr W. C. Hazlitt and Mr A. W. Pollard — ^have thrown fresh hght upon his career and hi? scholarship, and I gladly avail myself of this opportunity of acknowledging the help which I have received from their labours. An examination of State Papers in the Record Office, and of the letters and accoimt-books of the poet's uncle. Sir William Herrick, at Beaumanor, has not been altogether fruitless, but the story which is told in the following pages owes most of all to the record — often, it is true, tangled and inconclusive — which is set forth by Herrick himself in his verses. He is the most ingenuous and self-revealing of poets ; and though the order in which the poems are placed in the first edition of Hesperides is anything but chronological, it is not difficult to trace him in his progress through life, and to see the working of his mind. I have followed Dr Grosart in detaching the story of the poet's life from the criticism of his verses. The place viii PREFACE which the Hesperides poems occupy in the history of the English IjTric is a peculiarly interesting one, and this must be my excuse for the length of the first chapter in Part II., in which I have attempted to review briefly the development of the lyric of the English Renaissance down to the time of Herrick. In conclusion, I desire to offer sincere thanks to all who have helped me in my work. Among these I may men- tion, in particular, Mrs Perry Herrick, who kindly allowed me to examine the Herrick papers at Beaumanor, the Rev. C. J. Perry-Keene, vicar of Dean Prior, and Sir Walter S. Prideaux, the clerk of the Goldsmiths' Company, who generously undertook to examine, on my behalf, some of the company's records at Goldsmiths' Hall. My thanks are also due to the Rev. Canon Egerton Leigh, who allowed me to copy a hitherto unpublished letter of the poet which is in his possession. Finally, I acknowledge with special gratitude my debt to Mr A. H. Bullen, and to my friend and colleague. Professor Charles Vaughan, both of whom rendered me conspicuous service by reading the following pages in manuscript : the book has gained much by their searching criticism and wise suggestions. F. W. MOORMAN. The University of Leeds, February 1910. CONTENTS PART I— THE LIFE I. Early Years - 13 II. At Cambridge 30 III. " Sealed of the Tribe of Ben " . . . 49 IV. Dean Prior -75 V. Last Years ........ 105 PART II— THE WORKS I. The Lyric of the English Renaissance . 119 II. The Lyrical Poems of the " Hesperides " 153 III. The Non-Lyrical Poems of the " Hes- perides" 198 IV. The "Noble Numbers" 223 Appendix I. Herrick's Indenture of Appren- ticeship 249 Appendix II. The Dirge of Eric Blood-axe . 251 (2.489) u. ia PART I THE LIFE ROBERT HERRICK CHAPTER I EARLY YEARS Sir Walter Scott, writing of Swift's mother in his memoir of the Dean of St Patrick's, declares that her " ancient genealogy was her principal dowry." The lady in question was Abigail Ericke, descended from one of the branches of the Leicestershire family of Erickes, He5nicks or Herricks, to which also belonged the author of the Hesperides. The family tradition of the Herricks is that they owe their origin to a certain Eric the Forester, who raised an army to oppose Wilham the Conqueror, and who, being defeated, was employed as a commander in the Conqueror's army. In his old age this Eric is said to have retired to his home in Leicestershire — the county with which the Herricks have ever since been closely associated.^ This tradition, unlike many such family traditions, does not seem to err through ambition. The probabihty is, indeed, that the Herricks are of royal descent. The name Herrick, the spelling of which with the initial aspirate was not common until late in the sixteenth century, and, as we see from the name of Swift's mother, was not even then adopted by all the branches of the i See Deane Swift, Essa^ on the Life of Dr. Jonathan Swift, Appendix, p. 37, and Nichols' History of the County of Leicester, vol. il. p. 579. 167 13 14 ROBERT HERRICK family, is undoubtedly Scandinavian in origin. Under the forms Eirikr and Eirekr it appears as the name tof at least one Swedish and one Danish king, and it is found in EngUsh history as early as the middle of the tenth century. The first English Eric of whom historic legend teUs was the famous Viking, Eric Blood-axe — Eirekr Blodax — of whom Norse saga and English chronicle have much to relate. He was the son of the Norwegian king, Harold Fairhair, and was bom in Norway early in the tenth century. Driven from his home by his kins- folk, he settled among the Anglian and Danish peoples of Northumbria, who, in the year 952, at a time of revolu- tion, made him their king. For two years he reigned at York, and then was driven from his throne, and after- wards slain by Anlaf , cm under-king of Eadred of Wessex. This Eric Blood-axe, by virtue of his deeds of daring and his adventurous career, appealed to the imagination of the gleeinen, and in his honour was written the famous Eiriks-Mal or Dirge of Eric, the earliest of all Scandi- navian VaUialla-songs.^ There was, too, another Eric — Eric Hakonsson — ^who occupies a distinguished place in Dano-English history, and is celebrated in song no less than Eric Blood-axe. This was the Eric who married the daughter of King Sveinn, and joined with that king in the Danish conquest of Wessex. He Uved into the reign of Cnut, by whom he was made Earl of Northumber- land, and as " Dux Ericus " his name is found in old EngUsh charters down to the year 1023. ^ Under the stem rule of Willam the Conqueror the Erics, as the family tradition already referred to relates, found it prudent to retire to their Leicestershire estates, within the old Danelaw, where we find them leading a peaceful, law-abiding existence in the centuries which follow. There is still extant a letter sent by Henry III. to a certain Ivo de Herric, and more than a century later we hear of another Ivo de Herric, or Eyrick, who was living at Great Stretton in Leicestershire. The first of 1 See Appendix II. ^ gee Corpus Boreale, ii. 98. EARLY YEARS 15 these two Ivos may be the Eyrick of Stretton, temp. Henry III., to whom the Herrick pedigrees refer,\and from whom was descended Sir William Eyrick, the progenitor of the Houghton branch of the family, to which the author of the Hesperides belonged. Another member of the famUy was Robert Eyrick, who was the first Master of Trinity Hall, Cambridge, and died Bishop of Lichfield in 1385. At Houghton, a village six miles from Leicester, the descendants of Sir WUliam Eyrick increased in number tiU the ancestral home was unable to contain them all ; and one of the family, Thomas Ericke, gentleman, accord- ingly migrated to the neighbouring town of Leicester, about the end of the fifteenth century. His name appears on the Corporation Books of Leicester in 1511, and he was the first of the line of Herricks to be inti- mately connected with the civic life of the county-town. This Thomas Ericke was the great-grandfather of the poet. His son John, who married Mary Bond, the daughter of a Warwickshire gentleman, remained at Leicester, of which town he was twice the Mayor, and brought up a family of five sons and seven daughters. And now once again the growth of the family called for a fresh migration. Just as the Leicestershire village was found too small to provide sustenance for the numerous members of the Herrick family of an earlier generation, so now the county-town could not support the twelve children of John and Mary Eyrick. The eldest son, Robert, remained at home, built up a considerable fortune as an ironmonger, was three times elected Mayor, and represented the borough in Parliament. The second son, Nicholas, the poet's father, decided to seek his fortune elsewhere. In, or before, the year 1556 he was apprenticed to a goldsmith in Cheapside, London, and on the expiration of his apprenticeship, started business on his own accoimt in the same locality. Thanks to the preservation at Beaumanor Park, Leicestershire, of a number of papers bearing on the i6 ROBERT HERRICK Herrick family, we are able to gather a good deal of information concerning the poet's father. Among these papers are certain letters written to him by his father in Leicester, and extending from April i6, 1556, to August 28, 1584. They represented the Cheapside goldsmith as an excellent son, doing aU in his power to provide for his brothers and sisters. Some time between 1556 and 1575 his eldest sister, Ursula, had followed him to London, and had found a husband there. Another sister, Mary, had also 'joined the London household, and in 1575 was keeping house for her brother. Some years later she married Sir John Bennett, and in 1603 rode in state to the Guildhall as Lady Mayoress. In providing for his sisters, Nicholas Herrick was not forgetful of his brothers. About the year 1574 his youngest brother, WUliam, of whom we shall hear more presently, was sent to London to enter Nicholas's house and business. After 1575 there are several letters to prentice William from his father and mother, while from the last of John Eyrick's letters, dated August 28, 1584, we learn that yet another brother, John, had come up to London and received help from Nicholas. In 1582 Nicholas Herrick ^ married Julian or Juliana Stone, daughter of William Stone of London, gentleman. In the Allegations for Marriage Licences, issued by the Bishop of London,^ there is the following entry : " De- cember 8, 1582, Nicholas Herycke, Goldsmith, and JuUana Stone, Spinster, of City of London ; at St Leonard's, Bromley, Middlesex." Of the poet's mother not very much is known, and her son refers to her only once in the Hesperides. Like her husband, she came of a good family. The Stones sprang originally from Worcestershire, but the branch of the family to which the poet's mother belonged had been settled for some generations in London. Her father is spoken of in the 1 Contrary to his father's custom, he usually spells his name with the initial aspirate — ^perhaps in deference to cockney pronunciation. 2 Edited by G. J. Armytage (Harleian Society PubUcations, vol. xxv.). EARLY YEARS 17 Visitations of London as William Stone of London, gentleman, and in another place as William Stone of Se37no (Segenhoe), in the county of Bedford. Certain compHmentary poems among the Hespendes show that their author stood on very friendly terms with various members of his mother's family. Anne Stone, a sister of Juliana, was the wife of Sir Stephen Soame, a member of a stUl more prominent London family of the time ; and another sister, who gave shelter to JuUana Herrick and her children after Nicholas Herrick's death, married Henry Campion, a member of another family of some distinction in the city of London and the county of Kent. The members of the Herrick family in London were doubtless present at Nicholas's wedding, but age and infirmities prevented old John and Mary Eyrick from making the journey from Leicester in the inclement month of December. John Eyrick's letter to his son on this occasion has been preserved, and deserves inclu- sion here : " Sonne Nicholas Ejnrick ; your mother and I have us commended unto your bedfeUowe and you ; for I trust now that ye be a married man ; for I hard by your brother Stanford that youe weir appointed to marry on Monday the tenth of December ; and if youe be maryed, we pray God to sende youe bothe muche joye and comfort together, and to aU hir friends and yours. I pray you have us commended to your wive's parents and frends not as yet knowne or acqua5mted with us ; but I trust hereafter we shall, if God send us l3^e togethar. We wysshe ourselffs that we had bene with youe at your weddyng ; but the tyme of the year is so, that it hade bene paineful for your moder and me to have ridden suche a jomay : the dais being so short, and way so foule, cheffeley being so olde and onweldy as we be both ; and specyally your mother hath such paine in one of her knebones that she cannot goe many tyms about the hows without a staff in her hand ; and I myselffe have had for the spase of allmost of this halffe yeare mych i8 ROBERT HERRICK paine of my right sholder, that I cannot get on my gowne without help. Age bringeth infyrmytes with it ; God hath so ordayned. ... I trust we shall see your wiffe and you at Leicester this next summer to make mery with us, and lykewise your brother Haws and his wiffe, your brother Holden and his wiffe, with some other of your trends. Your mother and I doe gyve harty thanks for your good tokyns youe sente to us of late, and for all your other good tok3nis youe have sent us ; and we be sorry that you have benne at such charge, and we to send you but seldom anny thing that good is, and sometyme marr'd in the carredge. " Your mother and I have sent your wiffe and youe, to make mery withaU in Christmas, two sholdir of brawne and two ronds, and one rond for your brother and sister Haws, and one rond for your brother Holden and his wiffe, and one rond to Thomas Chapman agenst the great cond5d:h in Chepe. Every body's pesse hath their names written on them. . . . My wiffe hath sent to your sistar Mary three yards of cloth to make hir a smock. Thus I bid you hartely f arweU. At Leicester, on Sonday morning, being the xv day of December, 1582. By your loving father to his power, John Eyrick." ^ Other letters from Leicester follow, and inform us that William and Mary Herrick continued to live with their brother after his marriage, and that Nicholas prospered in business, but suffered much from ague. Nicholas Herrick's church was St Vedast's in Foster Lane, the register of which escaped the great fire, and contains the entries of his children's births. From it we learn that three sons, William, Thomas, and Nicholas, and two daughters, Martha and Anne, were bom between 1585 and 1590, and then comes the following entry : " Roberte Herricke, sonne to Nicholas Herricke, was baptized the xxiiii* day of Auguste, 1591." It is not without significance that, in respect of the time at which he was bom, Herrick stands midway i From Nichols' History of the County of Leicester, vol. ii. pp. 633-3. EARLY YEARS 19 between the early school of English lyrists — ^represented by Peele (bom 1558 ?), Lodge (1558 ?), Greene (1560 ?), Shakespeare (1564), Campion (1567), Jonson (1573), Donne (1573), Bamfield (1574), and John Fletcher (1579) — 3,nd the later school of Caroline lyrists, of which Carew (1598 ?), Crashaw (1613), Lovelace (1618), and Vaughan (1622) are the most distinguished members. Nearest to him of English poets stand Quarles (1592), George Herbert (1593), and Shirley (1596). The place of the poet's birth can be determined fairly exactly. One of the letters of Mary Eyrick of Leicester, the poet's grandmother, to her son William bears the following endorsement : "To her lovynge sonne William Heryck in London, dwelling with Nicholas Heryck in Cheip, give theis." Another letter from the same source indicates the birthplace still more exactly : it is directed to " M' William Heireyck, at the Rowes in the Gouls- meth Rowe in Cheap." From this we gather that the poet was bom in Goldsmiths' Row, Cheapside, in the heart of the city, and in close proximity to that house in Bread Street where, seventeen years later, Milton first saw the light. The first year of the poet's Ufe was spent in the busi- ness-house in Cheapside, but scarcely had he entered on his second year when a dark tragedy fell upon the family. Early in the November of 1592, Nicholas Herrick, the prosperous goldsmith, fell from an upper window in his Cheapside house and sustained injuries which proved fatal. On November 7 he made his wUl, and three days later he was buried in the church of St Vedast's. For the widow and the orphaned children this was sad enough, but the circumstances of his death made it sadder. Suspicions were aroused that the fall was intentional, and in accordance with the laws of the time, the case was investigated by the Queen's High Almoner, Dr Richard Fletcher, Bishop of Bristol, the father of the dramatist and uncle of Giles and Phineas Fletcher. The Draconian severity of the law was such that, if a 26 ROBERT HERRICK person was found guilty of suicide, his property reverted to the Crown. The statement of the case, as made out by the High Ahnoner, reads as follows : " And where one Nich'as Herrick late citezeine and Goldsmythe of London about the Nyneth daye of this instant moneth of November (as is supposed) did throwe himself forthe of a garret window in London aforesaide whereby he did kill and destroye himself. By reason whereof all such goodes chatteUs and debtes as were the said Nich'as Herrickes at the tjmie of his deathe or ought any waies to apperteyne or belonge vnto him do nowe belonge apperteyne and are forfe3rted vnto o^ said sou'aigne Lady the quene by force of her P'rogatyve royall and nowe are in the only order and disposicon of me the saide bushopp Almoner in augmentacon of her moste gracious almes by force and vertue of the said I'res patentes to me made and graunted as aforesaide (if the saide Nich'as Herrick be or shalbe founde felon of himselfe)." ^ It would be hard to exaggerate the terrible plight in which the widow, Julian .Herrick, was placed during those dark days of November 1592. The mother of five children, and of a sixth not yet bom, she had lost her husband under peculiarly distressing circumstances, and was now threatened with the forfeiture of all his hard- won possessions. Fortunately she was surrounded by influential relations, both on her own and her husband's side, and we may well believe that it was owing largely to their instrumentality that, before the month was out, the Bishop of Bristol gave up all claim to the dead man's goods. Nicholas Herrick could have been little more than a name to his gifted son, but the poet does honoiu: to his memory in the poem entitled To the Reverend Shade of his Religious Father,^ written about 1627 ; in it he 1 Miscellanea Genealogica et Heraldica, ed. J. J. Howard, Second Series, vol. i. p. 41. 2 Hesperides, ed. Pollard, No. 82. EARLY YEARS 21 craves his father's forgiveness for neglecting for so long to pay a visit to his tomb. His excuse is that he did not know where his bones had been interred — Forgive, forgive me, since I did not know Whether thy bones had here their rest or no. In his will Nicholas Herrick estimated his property at the value of £3,000, and bequeathed one- third of this sum to his " loveinge wife JuMan," and the other two- thirds in equal shares to his six children. His two sons, Thomas and Nicholas, and his brothers, Robert and WiUiam, were appointed executors. Papers preserved at Beaumanor show that the value of Nicholas Herrick's estate was not £3,000 but £5,068, and also that, in addi- tion to this, two London merchants, Edmund Pyggott and Richard Coxe, were in possession of a considerable sum of money — ^probably the proceeds of some charitable fund— placed at the disposEd of the widow and her children. We read of disbursements of £600 in 1597 and £200 in 1598, together with smaller sums on subsequent occasions. Soon after her husband's death Juhan Herrick left London with her children, and took up her abode at Hampton, in Middlesex, in the house of her sister, Anne Campion. The boy Robert, therefore, though city- bom, was coimtry-bred, and we may thiiik of his child- hood as having been spent in the dehghtful village which lies on the north side of the great river which he grew to love so weU, and close to the palace which Wolsey had built, and which, after that minister's fall and death, had become a favourite residence of the Tudor monarchs. The Hampton scenery is of that quiet sylvan and pastoral character which accords weU with the prevailing mood of the Hesperides. The royal parks, the river with the willow trees growing on its banks and on the numerous eyots which at this point lie in its channel, the broad stretches of rich meadow- land, and in the distance the chalk-hiUs of Surrey, must 22 ROBERT HERRICK have formed a landscape of peculiar attractiveness to one of Herrick's temperament. And if the scenery was somewhat wanting in features which appealed to the boy's imagination, these were supphed by the royal palace close at hand. The villagers of Hampton must have had many thriUing stories to teU of bygone doings at Hampton Court. Many still alive could remember the building and princely equipment of the palace by the great Lord Cardinal, and could tell of the haughty state he kept there. Others could relate stories of how Henry VIII. had paid court to the hapless Anne Boleyn in its stately gardens, or chill the blood in the boy's veins by tales of the shrieking ghost of Queen Catherine Howard that passed by night through the " Haunted Gallery." Nor was it only with stories of the past that the boy's imagination could be fed. Queen Elizabeth kept Christmas there in 1592 and 1593, and in the SeptembOT of 1599 she was tiiere again, riding in state to the palace from her Surrey home at Nonsuch, and returning after a sojourn of three or foiu: days. The boy of eight may have caught sight of the old queen as she rode over Kngston Bridge, and perhaps saw something of the characteristic incident recorded by Lord Semple of Beltreis, the Scottish ambassador, on this occasion : " At her Majesty's returning from Hampton Court, the day being passing foul, she would (as was her custom) go on horseback, although she is scarce able to sit up- right, and my Lord Hunsdon said, ' It was not meet for one of her Majesty's years to ride in such a storm.' She answered in great anger, ' My years ! Maids, to yoxu: horses quickly ; ' and so rode all the way, not vouch- safing any gracious countenance to him for two days." ^ With the accession of James I., Hampton Court became the scene of splendid pageants, the lustre of which must to some degree have extended to the adjoin- ing village. The King kept his first Christmas there amid rounds of festivities such as had never before been 1 E. Law's History of Hampton Court Palace in Tudor Times, p. 337. EARLY YEARS 23 witnessed. Amongst others, the King's Company of Comedians, with Shakespeare in their number, was there, and in the course of the Christmas festival performed no less than six plays before the monarch and his court. Samuel Daniel was also present, engaged in the prepara- tion of his masque. The Vision of the Twelve Goddesses, which was performed in the Great Hall of the palace on the night of January 8, 1604, and in which the Queen and some of the most distinguished nobles in the land took part. And scarcely were the gates of Hampton Court closed upon noble masquers and the King's players, when they opened to dignitaries of the Church and Puritan divines, summoned thither by the King to deliberate on the form of Protestant rehgion which was to be observed in England, and to hear the British Solomon utter his famous dictum, " No bishop, no king." Of the doings within the Great Hall of Hampton Court the boy Robert could have seen nothing ; but of the outside bustle, the comings and goings of ambassadors and bishops, the hunting of the stag in the Hampton parks, and all the activity which prevails when royalty holds high festival, he doubtless saw and heard a good deal. Such an impression, too, does he give us in his poems of his love of gay colours and gorgeous ceremonial, that we can well believe that he took the keenest interest in aU this royal pomp. And if the glories of the King's court were familiar to him in these early years, so, we may imagine, were the civic festivities of the city, fifteen nules away. Having so many relations, both on his father's and his mother's side, prominently associated with the Ufe of the capital, he could not have grown up altogether ignorant of London affairs. He could hardly have missed a visit with his mother to the city and Cheapside in 1598, when his aunt, Anne, Lady Soame, rode with her husband in state to the Guildhall as Lady Mayoress ; nor again in 1603, when the same honour fell to the lot of another of his aunts, the Mary Herrick 24 ROBERT HERRICK that had spent many years under his father's roof, and was now the wife of Sir John Bennett. But court festivities and Lord Mayor's shows, were, after all, only the dazzling delights of hours of exceptional splendour. For the common round of Uf e the boy had only the simple pleasures and interests afforded by a small riverside village and the comradeship of his three brothers and two sisters. The Thames, with its richly caparisoned barges passing up and down the stream, must have proved an endless source of interest, and rambles along its banks, or through the parks of Hampton, may weU have occupied many an idle hour. It could not have been a dull hfe, and there is no UkeUhood that the Herrick children, orphans as they were, felt the pinch of poverty. The means at their disposal were necessarily more slender than those of their many city cousins, but their inherit- ance from their father, and the money placed at the disposal of their mother and their uncle William for their support by the London merchants, Edmund Pyggott and Richard Coxe, was sufficient for the ordinary needs of hfe. No information has as yet come to light as to the school at which Robert Herrick received his education. Walford and Grosart assumed that he was educated at the famous Westminster School, the headmasters of which during his school years were William Camden the antiquary (1593-1599), and Richard Ireland (1599- 1610). But the foundations on which the assumption rests are not capable of bearing much weight ; they are to be found in the poem, His Tears to Thamasis (1028) ^ ; I send, I send here my supremest kiss To thee, my silver-footed Thamasis. No more snail I reiterate thy Strand, Whereon so many stately slructures stand : Nor in the summer's sweeter evenings go To bathe in thee, as thousand others do ; 1 The numbers here and elsewhere refer to Mr Pollard's numbering of Henick's poems in the Muses' Library Herrick. EARLY YEARS 25 No" more shall I along thy crystal gUde, In barge, with boughs and rushes beautified, With smooth-soft virgins, for our chaste disport. To Richmond, Kingston, and to Hampton Court. Never again shall I with finny oar Put from, or draw unto the faithful shore. And landing here, or safely landing there, Make way to my beloved Westminster. . . . To assume, with Walford and Grosart, that Herrick's reference to his " beloved Westminster " is necessarily to the school there, and ihat he went thither by boat from Hampton via Kingston and Richmond, is mani- festly imsafe ; or, if the assumption be made, we may well share Mr Alfred PoUard's wonder as to what William Camden had to say to the " smooth-soft virgins, for our chaste disport " that kept him company. The truth is that this poem recalls inany of the poet's memories of the river Thames — memories which extended from infancy to manhood. The fact that his uncle William had a house at Westminster when the poet was a boy may well account for early visits there, and it is probable that the neighbourhood was familiar enough to him after he left Cambridge. His connection with Westminster is also assured by the fact that he spent some time in lodgings there in 1640, and retired thither in 1647, when ejected from his Dean Prior vicarage. In the absence, there- fore, of fuller evidence, we have no right to assume that he was educated at the school which Jonson, Dryden, Locke, Prior, Cowper, and other men of letters, have rendered famous. Two of his cousins, sons of Wilham Herrick, were educated at the Merchant Taylors' School, but the register of its alumni makes no mention of the poet. He may, of course, have received his instruction at one of the great London schools, but it is also possible that he was educated nearer home. Hampton Grammar School dates from 1557, while a little farther away, and across the river, was the larger grammar school of the royal borough of Kingston. Wherever educated. Her- 26 ROBERT HERRICK rick undoubtedly received during his school years sound instruction in the Latin language and literature. As we shall see presently, one of the most Horatian of his poems, that entitled A Country Life : To his Brother, Mr Thomas Herrick (io6), was almost certainly written before he went to Cambridge, and the frequent quota- tions from Ovid, Seneca, Horace, and other Roman authors which we meet with in his poems point rather to his school reading than to the severely logical and theo- logical training, which formed the main element in his university course of study. While Robert was stiU at school, his elder brothers, their school-days over, were being settled in business in London. The eldest, Thomas, senior to Robert by three years, was placed, doubtless by his guardian imcle William, with a certain Mr Massam, a London merchant, and the second son, Nicholas, junior to Thomas by a year, was also apprenticed to a London merchant, and later in hfe seems to have been engaged in trade with the Levant. With the close of the summer of 1607 Robert's school- days were also over. He was now entering upon his seventeenth year, and the question of his future career was engaging the thoughts of himself, his mother, and his guardian uncle William. It is probable that it was the boy's wish to proceed forthwith to one of the imiversities, but for the present it was not to be. On September 25, 1607, the future poet was apprenticed to his uncle William, now Sir WUUam Herrick, goldsmith, of the city of London. The indenture of apprenticeship is pre- served at Beaumanor, and will be found in the appendix to this volume. From it we learn that the term of apprenticeship was to be ten years. The business-house wluch he entered was one of the most substantial in the City of London. His imcle William had prospered greatly since the time when he had been summoned to London by his brother Nicholas to enter the goldsmith's shop in Cheapside. After his brother's death he had EARLY YEARS 27 removed to the neighbouring Wood Street, and here he amassed a large fortune as goldsmith and banker. In 1595 he purchased from the agents of the Earl of Essex the seat of Beaumanor in Leicestershire ; in 1601 he was elected member of Parliament for Leicester, and in 1605 the honour of knighthood was conferred upon him. Sir Walter Scott has given us in his Fortunes of Nigel a delightful picture of the household of Master George Heriot, " jingling Geordie," who shared with Sir WiUiam Herrick the honour of being jeweller to his Majesty ; by means of it we are able to realize something of the Hfe which Robert Herrick was now leading beneath his imcle's roof in Cheapside. The dignity of Sir WiUiam's station would perhaps excuse the apprentice the duty of standing before the shop-door and accosting passers-by with the familiar cry, " What d'ye lack, Sir ? What d'ye lack. Madam ? Rings, bracelets, carcanets, what d'ye lack ? " His time would rather be spent within the house, practising the dehcate craft of the jeweUer and lapidary which had brought the honour of knighthood to his uncle WiUiam. At sunset his labours for the day were over, for a strict injunction of the wardens of the Goldsmiths' Company forbade buying and seUing by candle-light ; he was accordingly free to wander forth into the streets and visit his brothers, Thomas and Nicholas, or join with other apprentices in some hght- hearted mirth. The " honest and high-spirited prentices of London," as Thomas Heywood calls them, formed at this time an important section of the body poUtic, as playwrights, actors, watermen, and the Dogberrys of the city wards knew to their cost. Their cudgelhngs in the streets, their tourneys on the river, and their outspoken com- ments on the plays which, as two-penny groundhngs, they watched from the pits of Bankside theatres, were a matter of common reproach among the grave livers of London society. But to what extent Herrick shared in these riotous joys is unknown. His poems are mainly 28 ROBERT HERRICK concerned with the doings of later years, and no letters from this period have been preserved. Haunting of taverns was expressly forbidden by the terms of his indenture, but we are probably right in supposing that visits to the theatres were reckoned among the golden hours of these prentice days. Did he, we wonder, see the performance of that stupendous play by Thomas Heywood, The Four Prentices of London,^ which was written with the express purpose of glorif5dng the London apprentices ? The play enacted the thrilling adventures of four representatives of that class, who leave their shops in the city to join Robert of Normandy in the First Crusade. Their ship being wrecked, the four apprentices are washed ashore on the coasts of France, Italy, Ireland, and the earldom of Boidogne respectively, where they perform wondrous deeds, and are at last re- imited at Jerusalem in time to defeat the Sultan of Babylon and the Sophy of Persia ! If he was present at this performance — ^and what apprentice could have missed such a compliment ? — ^he may also have seen Beaumont and Fletcher's travesty of the play in The Knight of the Burning Pestle, and laughed at the heroic adventurings of Ralph, the London grocer's apprentice. If Herrick had possessed a genuine interest in a com- mercial career, it is doubtful whether any trade could have suited his temper better than that of a goldsmith and jeweller — unless, indeed, it were that of a per- fumer ! Many of his verses show just that delicate pohsh, and that dainty enamelling of thoughts with the gay colours of poetic fancy, which, if apphed to the jeweller's craft, might have won him knighthood and a fortune. His poems, too, are full of references to the wares -which he handled and poUshed in his first youth. He sends his Juha a carcanet or necklace of jet to " enthral " the ivory of her neck, and she bestows upon him in return a bracelet of beads filled with sweet-scented pomander- balls. The lips of the same mistress are rocks of rubies, 1 Published in 1615, but written and acted some years earlier. EARLY YEARS 29 her teeth quarries of pearls ; elsewhere we read of " jimmal rings " and true love-knots, of bracelets of pearl and beads. Surely, too, the young apprentice must have found pleasure in engraving posies for the rings which gay courtiers were presenting to their ladies. Some of his epigrams read like posies, and may even have been written for this purpose in his prentice years. Professor Arber has reprinted in his English Garner several of these collections of EUzabethian posies, but none of them contains a more delicately fashioned thought than this from the Hesperides (29) : Love is a circle that doth restless move In the same sweet eternity of love. Whatever were the attractions of the goldsmith's craft, and however great the prospects of mercantile greatness, they were insufficient to keep the future poet behind the counter for the whole term of his apprenticeship. In 1613, six years after entering his uncle's business, he broke loose from his Wood Street moorings, and ex- changed the apprentice's jerkin for the student's cap and gown. It is hard to believe that his uncle. Sir William, looked with favourable eye upon this change of front. Robert's elder brother, Thomas, who had been ap- prenticed by Sir WiUiam to Mr Massam, a London merchant, in 1605, had, in similar fashion, turned his back upon the counting-house in 1610, and started farming in the country. This change of calling, as we shall presently see, had not proved a success ; and now, three years later. Sir William saw another nephew, for whose future welfare he had made careful provision, defeating his weU-laid plans. But the future poet, having now reached the age of twenty-two, was to some extent his own master, and his uncle, however reluctantly, was forced to acquiesce in the change of career. CHAPTER II AT CAMBRIDGE Before following Herrick to the University of Cam- bridge, which he entered some time in 1613, it is well to consider whether any of the Hesperides poems belong to the years of his apprenticeship. The chronological ordering of those poems is a desperate task for the most intrepid editor to engage in. Poems extending over a period of about forty years are here placed with almost complete indifference as to subject and order of com- position. Yet internal evidence, carefully considered, goes a certain way to indicate the date at which certain poems were written, and warrants us in allotting at least two of them to the period which is now under considera- tion. One of these is the poem. To my dearest Sister, Mistress Mercy Herrick (818), which must have been written not later than 1612 ; for some time before that year, as Metcalfe's Visitation of Suffolk (1612) informs us, she had married a certain John Wingfield, son and heir of Humphrey Wingfield, Esq., of Brantham, Suffolk. The other poem of this period is of a much more sus- tained and ambitious character, and is entitled A Country Life : to his Brother, Mr Thomas Herrick (106). The open- ing verses of this poem indicate clearly that the poet's brother had recently exchanged a city for a country life : Thrice and above blest, my soul's half, art thou. In thy both last and better vow ; Could'st leave the city, for exchange, to see The country's sweet simplicity. AT CAMBRIDGE 31 The reference is to the important step in his career which Thomas Herrick took about the year 16 10, when he left the business house in London of Mr Massam and settled himself on a coimtry farm. Moreover, the poem is eloquent of the great content which Thomas and his newly married wife are finding in their rural sanctuary. But this content, however real it may have been during the first few months, was very short-Uved. By the year 1613 the farm was anything but the Elysium which the poet sp>;aks of. On May 12 of that year Thomas Herrick, writing- to his uncle. Sir WilUam, for help, says that he is " at present destitute of a convenient stay for myself and wife," and he begs to be appointed the tenant of one of his uncle's Leicestershire farms. Nor was the knowledge of his brother's sore straits withheld from Robert, the first of whose letters to his uncle from Cambridge was written with the express purpose of begging money for his brother. From all this it may be inferred that the poem in question was written some time between 1610 and 1613, though in the form in which it appears in the Hesperides it has doubtless benefited by those careful repolishings upon which Herrick spent so much time during the long winter evenings at Dean Prior. Another, and probably earUer, version of the poem is, in fact, extant in Ashmole MS. 38, and has been carefully compared with the printed copy by Dr Grosart in his Memorial Introduction to Herrick's works.^ But the poem, however altered, is of exceptional interest by virtue of the fight which it throws upon the temper of the poet's mind and the direction and extent of his reading. It is obviously suggested by the second of Horace's Epodes, the famous Beatus ille, written — ^may we say, ironically ? — in praise of a country Ufe. But while the idea of the poem comes from Horace, there is nowhere any trace of servile imitation, and the pleasures of a country fife which Herrick points out to his brother are rarely out of harmony with the surroimdings of an English homestead. 1 pp. cU,-cUv. 32 ROBERT HERRICK Interesting in its disclosure of the young poet's feeKng for nature and a coiintry life, the poem is no less interest- ing in the light which it throws upon his reading. Echoes of classical authors abound, and the borrowings are in almost every case honourably acknowledged in Herrick's accustomed manner by the use of italics. Horace is clearly his first love, and in addition to the Beatus ille Epode, we trace reminiscences of more than one of the Odes. Thus he finds a place for those lines from the third song of the first book, — Illi robur et aes triplex Circa pectus erat qui fragilem truci Commisit pelago ratem Primus — which Horace in his turn had drawn from the Prometheus of Aeschylus ; and he shows the terseness of his style by expressing the thought within the compass of a single distich : A heart thrice walled with oak and brass that man Had, first durst plough the ocean. There is, too, much sententious moralizing in the poem, and for this Herrick had recourse to Martial, Juvenal, and Aristotle's Ethics.^ What is no less interesting is the echo of Renaissance poetry. Shakespeare's " To thine own self be true," seems to have been in the young poet's mind when he wrote the couplet, — But to live round, and close, and wisely true To thine own self, and known to few ; — and there is abundant evidence that, in addition to Horace's Epode, Herrick had in mind, when writing the poem, Jonson's praise of a coxmtry Ufe expressed in his verses " To Sir Robert Wroth." Jonson is describing the life of a coimtry gentleman, Herrick that of a simple 1 See Mr Pollard's note to tiiis poem, i. pp. 263-C, AT CAMBRIDGE 33 farmer ; but there is a similarity of idea and style throughout the two poems, and, what is even more important, the verse of the address " To Sir Robert Wroth " is imitated by the younger poet. From all this it is clear that Herrick was conversant with the poetry of his own time, and also that, having received a fairly sound classical education while at school, he had found time for reading classic authors during the hours which were not claimed by the shop and the counting-house. In its wealth of classical allusion the poem compares well with that of Jonson, and shows, in particular, that intimacy with Roman hfe and ceremonial, and that frank transference of all this to English soil, which characterize much of his later pwetry. It was probably in the siammer of 1613 that Herrick went up to Cambridge, and enrolled himself a member of St John's College. His mature age — ^he was nearly twenty-two — ^made him unwilling to register himself as an ordinary imdergraduate, and he accordingly entered his coUege as a feUow-commoner. In so doing, he sub- jected himself to a heavy burden of expenditure, and, as his Cambridge letters show, an eternal lack of pence was his never-ending complaint during the whole of his stay at the University. His guardian-uncle, as we learn from his account-books preserved at Beaumanor, had doled out to his nephew certain sums of money during his apprenticeship. Under the date February 9, 1612, we find the entry, " Lent to Robarte Hericke more at his request £10," and a little later, " Pd to him the 5 March 1612 the sum of £42, los. od." From certain reckonings on the margin of the page on which these and other entries are made, we infer that these sums were deducted from a sum of ^^424, 8s. od. which had been left to Robert by his father, that he had drawn out £74, 8s. od., and that £350 were still in hand. On entering St John's College as a fellow-commoner, he was to receive £10 a quarter to cover the cost of board, 34 ROBERT HERRICK clothes, and tuition : extraordinary items of expenditure were met by extraordinary grants.^ St John's College was at this time under the rule of the Welshman, Owen Gwyn, who, after some intriguing, had been appointed Master in the May of 1612. Gwyn was a cousinvof the famous John Williams, a fellow of the college, and subsequently Lord Keeper and Bishop of Lincoln. St John's had somewhat fallen from the high estate which it had enjoyed in the preceding century, when Roger Ascham and Sir John Cheke weire reckoned among its members ; but it was stUl, with Trinity and King's, one of the leading colleges of the University, and had on its roU during the first half of the seven- teenth century the distinguished names of Thomas We'ntworth, Earl of Strafford, John Williams, the Lord Keeper, and Thomas Fairfax, the great Lord-General of the Civil War. The doyen of its fellows was Andrew Downes, Regius Professor of Greek in the University, and a worthy successor to the great humanists of a former generation. Earlier irimates of the University, in whom perhaps the authorities took no special pride, but who would have found a genial comrade in Robert Herrick, were Robert Greene and Thomas Nash, the latter of whom left behind him, as a sobriquet for subsequent wassailers, 1;he phrase, " a very Nash." Among the Herrick Papers at Beaumanor are fourteen letters — -the residue apparently of a once larger collection — ^written by Herrick to his tmcle during his residence at Cambridge, and to these we naturally turn for informa- tion concerning the character of his college life. But in 1 In Sir William's Account Books at Beaumanor we meet with the following entries : " July 1613, to Mr Miller for a College Pot, £5," and "4 Oct. 1615, Paid to Mr Woolley for Robins Gown and Hose, £2, I2S. od." The College-pot was the silver goblet of 10 oz., which, according to a decree at St John's College, every feUow-commoner must present to his college on admission. See Baker-Mayor, History of St John's College, Cambridge, p. 548. The date, July 1613, is of importance as indicating the time at which Herrick went up to the University. AT CAMBRIDGE 35 many ways these letters are most disappointing. They tell us nothing of the part which he took in the life of the University, nothing of college friendships, nothing of poetic activity. Their persistent burden, or, as Herrick himself expresses it, their " plainsong," is the request for money — " mitie pecuniam." As already stated, the agreement between nephew and uncle was that the former should receive a pa57ment of £10 quarterly to meet all ordinary expenses. The ex-apprentice had not been long at the University before he discovered that £40 a year was a quite inadequate sum to meet his needs. His college was an expensive one, and he had entered it as a fellow-commoner. When Mr, afterwards Sir Simonds, D'Ewes entered the same college as a feUow- commoner in 1618, he tells us of the allowance made to him by his father : " The utmost I desired was but £60, my father conceived £50 to be sufficient ; which I was wiUing to accept, being able to obtain no more, rather than to be at his allowance ; because I easily foresaw how many sad differences I was likely to meet with upon every reckoning. I cannot deny but as this short allowance brought me one way much want and dis- content, so another way it made me avoid unnecessary acquaintance, idle visits and many unnecessary ex- penses." ^ If D'Ewes experienced want and discontent on £50 a year, the want and discontent of Herrick must have been proportionably greater on £40. What was worse was that even this small sum was remitted only with great reluctance and after considerable delay. In one of these letters, written from " Cambridg : St John's," he makes the following complaint : "I have not as hitherto acquainted you with the chardg I Uve in, but your self can judg by my often (as now at this time) writing for mony, which when I doe, it is for no imperti- nent expens, but for constraind necessitie : for be your self the judg, when above twentie pounds will not suf&ce the 1 Autobiography of Sir Simonds D'Ewes, ed. Halliwell- Phillips, vol. i. p. 119. 36 ROBERT HERRICK house, not reckening with it commoditie for my self (I meane apparell nor other complements) nor tuition mony nor other sundrie occasions for chardges, this but con- sidered, their is no reasonable soule but wiU kindly and indulgently censure of my lyfe and me. Had I but a competent estate to majmtayne my self to my title, I could presimie of as soone atayning to y^ end of the efficient cause — ^my coming — as he that hath stronger cause and fortune : S^', I know you understand me, and did you but know how disfumished I came to Cambridg, without bedding (which I yet want) and other necessaries, you would (as I now trust you will) better your thoughts towards me, considering of my forct expence. S', I entreat you to furnish me with ten pounds this quarter ; for the last mony which I receavd came not till the last quarter had almost spent it self, which now constraines me so suddenly to write for more. Good S^, forbeare to censure me as prodigaU, for I endevour rather to strengthen (then debihtate) my feeble famiUe fortune." From other letters we learn that the feUow-commoner has been com- pelled " to runne somewhat deepe into my Tailours debt," and that he needs money for books and his tutor's fees. The following letter, the original of which I discovered among a collection of autographs in the possession of Canon Egerton Leigh of Richmond, Yorkshire, belongs to the same period, and is written in the same strain as that quoted above : Cambridg, Sx John's. S', the first place testifies my deutie, the second only reiterats the former letter of which (as I may justly wonder) I heard no answeare, neither concerning the payment or receat of the letter, (it is best knowne to your self). Upon which ignorance I have sent this oratour entreating you to paye to M' Adrian Marius, bookseller of the blackfryers, the sum of lo U, from whome so soone as it is payd, I shall receave a dew acknowledgment. I shall not need to amplyfy my sense, for this warrants AT CAMBRIDGE 37 sufficiencie. I expect your countenance and your futherance to my well beeing who hath power to command my service to etemitie. Heaven be your guide to direct you to perfection which is the end of mans endeavour. I expect an answeare from M^ Adrian, concerning the ^ ■ Robin Hearick, obliged to your virtue eternally. [Endorsement] " The right wor" his loving uncle, S^ WiUiam Hearick, dweUing at London in great Wood-Street, this.^ The humble and obsequious tone in which Herrick addresses his uncle in these letters would seem to indi- cate that his college expenses came out of the knightly goldsmith's own pocket, but references in them to his " feebly ebbing estate " place it beyond doubt that such was not the case. A curious entry in Sir WiUiam's account books also discloses the fact that while the impecunious student was finding infinite difficulty in obtaining his quarterly allowance of £10, the wealthy imcle was borrowing hundreds of pounds from the nephew. The entry in question is as foUows : " My Nephew, Robert Hericke of Cambridge, the 25th March 1614, I owe him upon a Bond to be paid at my House at 3 Months 300 li." Dr Grosart in his Memorial Intro- duction has emptied the vials of his wrath upon the head of " the close-fisted old knight " with such zeal and copiousness that subsequent biographers are for aU time relieved of a similar obhgation. Yet one may be allowed to express the opinion that Sir WiUiam was making a churUsh repayment to the orphan son for the generous ' This letter was presented to Canon Leigh's grandmother, Lady Sit- well of Rempstone, Derbyshire, by a former proprietor of Beamnanor, early in the nineteenth century ; its discovery raises the question whether other letters of the poet's are hidden away somewhere in pri- vate autograph collections. 38 ROBERT HERRICK treatment which he, when a raw apprentice, had received from the father. The foundation of Sir William's princely fortune was laid in Nicholas Herrick's shop in the Gold- smiths' Row, Cheapside, and this fact ought not to have been forgotten when, thirty years later, Nicholas's son was struggling with poverty at Canibridge. It is imfortunate that Herrick's Cambridge letters tell us nothing of college friendships. The verses in the Hesperides addressed to " peculiar friends " are many in number, and some of the friendships which he formed were of long standing. As he was six years older than the average freshman when he entered the University, it would be natural for him to look for acquaintances among the senior members and fellows of the University ; and, as a matter of fact, it was with a fellow of his own college that one of his most lasting friendships was formed. On March 26, 1613, a certain John Weekes of Devonshire was admitted a fellow of St John's.^ This Weekes seems to have been the son of Simon and Mary Weekes of Broadwood Kelly in the county of Devon,^ and though senior to Herrick in academic standing, he was probably about the same age. To this " peculiar friend " three of the Hesperides poems are addressed, and they show clearly that the ties of friendship were of the closest. The careers of the two men run a curiously parallel course, and we shall meet with Weekes in the company of Herrick on more than one occasion in this biographical sketch. Another intimate friend of after years. Whose acquaintance the poet must have made at Cambridge, was Clipseby, afterwards Sir Clipseby, Crew, the eldest son of Sir Ranulphe Crew, who was Speaker of the House of Commons in 1614 and Lord Chief Justice in 1625. We learn from the Baker Memoirs * that CUpseby Crew was a student at St John's College, Cambridge ; 1 See Register of Fellows admitted to St John's College. Bakei- Mayor, p. 393. 2 Vivian, Visitation of Devon, 1620. 8 p. 492- AT CAMBRIDGE 39 and as he was bom in 1599, ^^^ residence at the Univer- sity must have extended over almost the same period that Herrick spent there. To this friend several of the Hesfierides poems are addressed, and the verses show that their author found in the son of the Lord Chief Justice a true friend and patron. He celebrated his marriage, which took place in 1625, with the most beautiful of all his epithalamia, and in later poems he mourned the death of his wife and his daughter. Other verses to Sir CUpseby represent that knight as a sharer in some of the poet's bacchanalian joys, and the poem entitled A Hymn to Sir CUpseby Crew (427), written apparently after a quarrel had for a time estranged the two friends, shows the warmth of the poet's affection. It is not difficult to follow Herrick in his course of study at the University. Seventeenth-century Cam- bridge still clung somewhat tenaciously to much of that outworn medieval curriculum which made logic and rhetoric the chief studies of the quadriennium or four years' course leading to the bachelor's degree. During his freshman's year he must have devoted himself chiefly to rhetoric, acqmring a knowledge of that subject by the aid of Quintilian's Institutes, Cicero's Orations and the rhetorical works of Hermogenes the Greek. During the two succeeding years, as junior and senior sophister, he read mainly logic. For this the writings of Aristotle stUl formed the chief theme of study, though the sub- versive Dialectica of Peter Ramus had by this time got a furm hold of the EngUsh universities, and appeared among the text-books of the Cambridge undergraduates.^ Of humanistic teaching proper, as far as a student's preparation for his degree went, there was very little ; though Herrick may very weU have attended the pubUc lectures of the Regius Professor of Greek, Andrew Downes, and Ustened to his exposition of Demosthenes or Thu- cydides. We may also be sure that he did not neglect the Roman poets, whose acquaintance he first made in his 1 MuUinger, The University of Cambridge, vol. ii., p. 404 f. 40 ROBERT HERRICK school days, and who have left so clear an impress upon his poetry. Horace, Catullus, and the Roman elegists were, doubtless, a part of his daily fare. Sir Simonds D'Ewes; who, as we have seen, entered St John's in 1618, tells us a good deal in his autobiography concerning his course of studies at the University. We learn that he attended Divinity Acts, Problems, and Commonplaces in the Public Schools, Ustened to George Herbert's public lecttures on rhetoric, and to those of Dr Downes on Demosthenes' De Corona: also that he read Aristotle's Physics, Politics, and Ethics, Florus's Roman History, and studied his logic in various manuals. For Ughter moments he had GeUius's Attic Nights and Macrobius's Saturnals. These last two works, which supply in an informal manner much antiquarian know- ledge of Greek and Roman life, may very well have been included among Herrick's store of books, and Jiave fur- nished him with that acquaintance with Soman social Ufe and ceremonial which is so often at his service as a poet, and gives to his verses their classical and pagan flavour. The period during which Herrick was pursuing his studies at Cambridge was not remarkable for the exem- plary behaviour of the students. Mr Mullinger, indeed, informs us that at no period do we find their conduct more unfavourably represented. They were engaged in peren- nial conflicts with the townsmen and the watch, and, contrary to aU regulations, they attended cock-fights and bull-baitings, diced and drank, armed themselves with swords and rapiers, and wore apparel of velvet and silk ; a few desperate ones even bathed in the river ! D'Ewes, again, who was something, of a prig, confesses that "swearing, drinking, rioting, and hatred of aU piety and virtue under false and adulterate names did abound there [St John's] and generally in aU the Uni- versity." It may readily be granted that Herrick, with the hot blood of Norse ancestors tingling in his veins, par- took of as much of the " cakes and ale " of university hfe as proctorial vigilance and a slender purse would AT CAMBRIDGE 4t admit. The author of the Welcome to Sack — was it perhaps an effusion of these Cambridge days ? — was no pre- cisian, and could ruffle it with the best of the " high sons of pith " who met together in the taverns of Cambridge. It is difficult, if not impossible, to say what poems of Herrick belong to these university days. None of those published in the Hesperides contain, as far as I have been able to discover, any direct allusions to this im- portant period in his career, but it is hard to believe that his muse, which had vouchsafed The Country Life in his prentice years, could have been altogether silent now. One is tempted to associate the love-lyrics and drinking- songs chiefly with the succeeding period, which Herrick spent in London at the feet of Ben Jonson, but some of these may very well have been written at Cambridge. It was Herrick's lot, during the first half of his life, to be an eye-witness of pageants of more than ordinary splendour. These had begun in the days of his childhood when Lord Mayor uncles and Lady Mayoress aunts were borne in state to the Guildhall, and when, nearer home, he beheld the royal processions entering the palace of Hampton Court. As apprentice to the goldsmith-uncle, whose business took him frequently to court, he must again have seen a good deal of the life of the Stuart courtiers, and now that he had left London for the Uni- versity, he was destined to behold scenes of festive splendour which might compare even with the pageantry of Whitehall. Early in the winter of 1614-15, an inti- mation reached Cambridge that the King and his court would honour the University with a visit in the following March. The news must have caused a flutter of pleasur- able expectancy throughout the colleges, and prepara- tions were at once made to give the visitors a sumptuous reception. St John's College, in accordance with its status in the University, took, with Trinity, a leading part in these preparations, and Herrick, though only an impecunious fellow-commoner, must have shared in the general excitement. Tlie news of the royal visit spread 42 ROBERT HERRICK to Oxford, and we find William Herrick, the eldest son of Sir William, and a feUow-commoner of St John's College, writing to his Cambridge cousin and proposing to share his lodgings with him on the occasion of the King's visit. His tutor, however, Mr Christopher Wren, in a letter to Lady Herrick, disapproves of this plan and begs, " yf it soe like your Ladiship, that I might have him with me inseparablye, both on the way and there too." 1 The University authorities at Cambridge, having in mind the seemly behaviour of the students on so im- portant an occasion as a royal visit, passed special ordinances. Having regard to "the fearfuU enormitye and excesse of apparell scene in all degrees " of students, they expressly forbade the wearing of " vast bands, huge cuffs, shoe-roses, tufts, locks and topps of hare, un- beseeminge that modesty and carr;idge of students in so renowned an Universitye," * and threatened with instant expulsion the undergraduate who should offend the author of the Counterblast by " taking tobacco " in either St Mary's Church or Trinity College Hall. The King lodged in Trinity College, but the Chancellor of the University, the Earl of Suffolk, kept house at St John's, at the rate of £i,ooo and five tuns of wine a day.* To entertain James during his four days' sojourn at the University, elaborate Latin comedies, together with Acts or Disputations, had been devised, ike Disputation, that ejdiibition of mental gladiatorship which was an heir- loom of the Middle Ages, and to which the universities still clung, was a form of entertainment peculiarly attractive to a monarch who loved hot debate as much as he feared cold steel. Several Disputations were held, but the subject which attracted chief attention, and which inter- 1 Nichols, History of County of Leicester, iii. p. 163. 2 Nichols, Progresses of James I., iii. 44 ; MuUinger, The University of Cambridge,'^, si 6. s Letter of Mr Chamberlain to Sir Dudley Carleton, quoted by Nichols, Progresses of James I., vol. iii, p. 48. AT CAMBRIDGE 43 ested the King most of all, was one which concerned the reasoning powers of dogs. " Can dogs syllogize ? " was the form in which the question was worded, and the disputants were two learned divines, Matthew Wren, afterwards Bishop of Ely, and John Preston, the puritan, soon to be elected Master of Emmanuel. The arguments of the latter, who maintained the affirmative, were ingenious. " The major proposition, present in the mind of a harrier," he declared, " is this : The hare has gone either this way or that way.' With his nose he smells out the minor. ' She has not gone that way ; ' and he then arrives at the conclusion : ' Ergo, this way,' with open mouth." Thereupon followed the usual logic-chopping. Did the dog possess sapience, or was it only sagacity ? — until at last the royal Ustener clenched the argument in favour of Preston by relating an incident from his own hunting experiences.^ Following upon the Disputations, came the Comedies. The St. John's men had a play of their own, Aemilia, which they performed on the first night of the King's visit, but the piece de resistance was the comedy of Ignoramus, which was performed on the evening of March 8th. The author of this play was George Ruggle, formerly a pensioner of St John's, but now a fellow of Clare Hall, where the play was acted. As a fellow- commoner of the University, Herrick was entitled to a seat at the back of the hall during the performance, and we may be sure that he did not fail to be present. The comedy, we are told, proved an amazing success ; the King followed the development of the plot and shared in the laughter called forth by the satiric hits at the lawyers and the ridicule of their debased law-Latin. The fun which was pointed at the legal profession in the comedy of Ignoramus was, perhaps, not too weU received by Herrick himself ; for about this time his thoughts were turning towards the law as a profession. He was still an undergraduate, but the sense of advancing 1 Mullinger, dp. cit., ii. 520. 44 ROBERT HERRICK years and a slowly ebbing patrimony made him anxious for the future. There is nothing to indicate what projects had been formed as to his future career at the time when he entered the University in 1613, but after a residence there of three years, he had made up his mind to enter the legal profession. With this purpose in view, he determined to leave St John's College and become a member of Trinity Hall, which was specially devoted to the study of the law. In making this change, he also had in view the retrenchment of his expenses. He announces his intention to his uncle in a letter which belongs to the year 1616 : " After my abundant thanks for your last great love (worthie Sir), proud of your favoure and kindness shewne by my Ladie to my unworthy selfe, thus I laye open my selfe ; that for as much as my continuance wUl not long consist in the spheaxe where I now move, I make known my thoughts, and modestly crave your counsell, whether it were better for me to direct my study towards the lawe or not ; which if I should (as it will not be imperti- nent), I can with faciUtie laboure my self into another colledg appointed for the Uke end and studyes, where I assure myself the charge will not be so great as where I now exist ; I make bold freely to acquaint you with my thoughts ; and I entreat you answeare me : this being most which checks me, that my time (I trust) beeing short, it may be to a lesser end and smaller purpose; but that shalbe as you shall lend direction. ..." Sir William Herrick had apparently no objection to his nephew becoming a lawyer, and was certainly not the man to frustrate any project which made for economy ; and so the next letter which reached him from Cambridge is headed " Trinitie Hall." Herrick's connection with Trinity Hall is interesting, for when the HaU was founded in the fourteenth century, its first niaster was a collateral ancestor and namesake of the poet, Robert Eyrick, who had died Bishop of Lichfield in 1385. When Herrick AT CAMBRIDGE 45 entered the Hall, its master was Dr Clement Corbett, and the number of its members amounted to only about sixty. The letter in which he informs his uncle of the change which he has made is not written in the best of spirits : Trinitie Hall, Camb. S"*, — ^The confidence I have of your bothe virtuous and generous disposition makes me (though with some honest reluctation) the seldomer to solicite you ; for I have so incorporated beleef into me, that I cannot chuse but perswade my self that (though absent) I stand imprinted in your memorie ; and the remembrance of my last beeing at London servd for an earnest motive (which I trust lives yet unperisht) to the effectuating of my desire, which is not but in modesty ambitious, and consequently virtuous ; but, where freeness is evident, there needs no feare for forwardness ; and I doubt not (because fayth gives boldness) but that Heaven, to- geither with your self, will bring my ebbing estate to an indifferent tyde ; meanewhOe I hopp I have (as I pre- sume you know) changd my coUedg for one where the quantitie of expence wilbe shortned, by reason of the privacie of the house, where I propose to live recluse, till Time contract me to some other calling, striving now with myself (reta5ming upright thoughts) both sparingly to live, and thereby to shun the current of expence." Then follows the usual request for £io. Before Time could contract him to another calling, it was necessary for him to take the degree of bachelor. Owing to the expenses incumbent on graduation, his removal to a college where the cost of Uving was less had not reheved him of the burden of impecuniosity. In his failure to secure a sufficient competence from lus imcle, he realizes that he " must crie with the afflicted ' usquequo, usquequo, Domine,' " and hopes against hope that his imcle will remember him " like a trew Maecenas." In January 1617 he underwent the ordeal of the various 46 ROBERT HERRICK Acts which were required for the passing of the examina- tion, and in the same month his name, " Robertus Hearick," appears on the register of bachelors of arts. The successful passing of his " Commencement " is announced to his uncle as follows : Camb. Sir, that which makes my letter to be abortive and borne before maturitie, is and hath been my Commence- ment, which I have now overgonn, though I confess with many a throe and pinches of the purse ; but it was necessarie, and the prize was worthie the hazarde ; which makes me less sensible of the expence, by reason of a titular prerogative — et bonum est prodire in bono. The essence of my writing is (as heretofore) to entreat you to paye for my use to M^ Arthour Johnson, bookseller in Paules church yard the ordinarie summe of tenn pounds, and that with as much sceleritie as you maye, though I could wish chardges had leaden wings and Tortice feet to come upon me ; sed votis puerilibus opto. S^, I fix my hopes on Time and you ; still gazing for an happie flight of birdes, and the refreshing blast of a second winde. Doubtfull as yet of either Fortunes, I live, hoarding up provision against the assault of either. Thus I salute your ^ — Hopeful R. Hearick. The young graduate's better spirits are manifest in his style as well as his signature. The " titular prerogative " has been won, and with a boldness bom of success, he even ventures to send his quarterly request for ten pounds before the proper time.^ The future is still un- certain, but there has been enough of despondency^ and now, in the first flush of academic honours, he finds it possible to fix his hopes on so barren a prospect as the generosity of his imcle. Sir William Herrick. 1 This I take to be the meaning of the phrase, " abortive and borne before maturitie," as applied to the letter which he is writing. AT CAMBRIDGE 47 With his graduation in 1617, Herrick's residence at the University in all probability came to an end. Dr Grosart and others have assumed that he repiained there until 1620, when he proceeded M.A., but! under the circumstances, nothing is more unlikely. For some time past residence for the degree of master had ceased to be compulsory, and, as a result, the resident graduates of the University formed only " a small minority com- posed almost exclusively of clerical fellows of | colleges, whose time was mainly given to the all-absorljing con- troversial theology of the day, and to the coniposition of ' commonplaces ' to be dehvered in the college chapel." ^ Now Herrick was never a fellow of his college, and it is by no means certain that, at the time when he graduated, his wish was to enter the Church. A year before, as we have seen, his thoughts were directed to the law. Moreover, his ripe age and his lack of money indicate that he would not remain at the University longer than was necessary, and the termination of the letters to his uncle at this time also gives colour to the view that he quitted Cambridge in 1617. Since residence was no longer compulsory, the course of study for the mastership had become quite insignificant. It consisted only in the keeping of one or two " acts," and the com- position of a single declamation. This probably presented httle difficulty to Herrick when, three years later, he took the higher degree, and was enrolled as a master of arts at the registry. In 1617, then, Herrick packed up his few personal belongings, took " Hobson's choice," and bade farewell to the University. He left behind him a small circle of friends, including Weekes and Crew, and a rather heavy burden of debts. In the second report of the Historical Manuscripts Commission {1870), Mr H. T. Riley pub- lished certain documents preserved at Trinity Hall, in- cluded among which are entries in the Steward's Book of debts owing to the college by " Robert Herricke." 1 Mullmger, op. cit., vol. ii. p. 414. 48 ROBERT HERRICK The entries are for the years 1623 and 1630, and the sums owed are £3, 17s. 7d. for the former year, and £10, i6s. gd. for the latter. Dr Grosart attempted to father these debts upon another Robert Herrick, the poet's cousin, and second son of Sir William Herrick. But there is nothing to show that this youth, who passed through Christ Chxirch, Oxford, and Lincoln's Inn, was ever a member of Trinity HaU, or, indeed, of the Univer- sity of Cambridge. The probabihty is, therefore, that Mr Riley was right in his identification, and what we know of the poet's impecuniosity at the University sup- ports this view. CHAPTER III " SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN ' The twelve yeaxs which elapse between Herrick's gradua- tion at Cambridge in 1617, and his induction as vicar of Dean Prior in 1629, form one of the most obscure periods in his long life. This obscurity enjoins wary walking on the part of a biographer. At no other point in the story is the temptation to lay undue weight upon a slender thread of evidence so great. In attempting to unravel the tangled thread of these all-important years, almost our only clue is that afforded by the poet himself, ahdi as a single instance will show, Herrick plays fast and loose with the would-be chroniclers of his life. Because he writes an epitaph on a person — ^to wit. Prudence Baldwin, the faithful housekeeper of Dean Prior days — and lays her in her " little urn," it must not for a moment be assumed that she is dead ; the parish register at Dean Prior records that she lived at least thirty years after her epitaph was written, saw her octogenaria;n master put into his little um, and his pulpit occupied by his successor. The reader, therefore, in following the story of the poet's life during these obscure years,, must be prepared to find, instead of the record of estabUshed facts, a long series of more or less plausible suppositions. He will frequently encounter the words " probable " and " not impossible," and must rest content with these until firmer ground is reached. When Herrick left the University in 1617, it is natural 49 50 ROBERT HERRICK to suppose that he made his way back to London. His Cambridge letters tell of visits paid to the capital in undergraduate days, and it was there that most of his friends and relations were settled. It is uncertain whether his mother was still living at Hampton. Some time before 1629, the year of her death, she had left that home, and had gone to reside with her married daughter at Brantham in Suffolk.^ His brother Nicholas, how- ever, was residing in London with his wife and family, and several of Herrick's poems point to a dose friendship between the brothers. Sir WiUiam Herrick, too, probably passed a certain portion of the year at his business house in Wood Street, but there is nothing to indicate that his nephew spent much time in his society. With the poet's departure from Cambridge, Sir William Herrick dis- appears from our view. He hved at Beaumanor until 1653, but we note, without surprise, that he finds no place in the poet's " white temple of my heroes," the " eternal calendar " which promises immortality to so many persons bearing the poet's name. Various relations on his mother's side — ^the families of Stone and Soame, of whom we shall hear more presently — ^were also either residing in London, or in some way connected with it. As we saw in the preceding chapter, it seems to have been Herrick's purpose during the latter portion of his stay at Cambridge to take up a legal career as soon as he had finished with the University. How far he carried this project is uncertain ; his name does not appear on the register of the Inner or Middle Temple, Gray's Inn, or Lincoln's Inn, though some of the poems in the Hesperides show that he numbered amongst his friends several persons intimately associated with the law. In any case, he had, by the year 1627 at the latest, abandoned the law for the Church. We have no knowledge of the date of his ordination, and it is particularly unfortunate that in Dr M. Hutton's Extracts from the Registers of the Bishop of London, preserved in the Manuscript Room at the 1 Metcalfe, Visitation of Suffolk in 1612. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 51 British Museum (Harleian MSS., 6955-6), and giving a list of clergymen ordained within the London diocese, there is an hiatus for the years 1620-7. It is probable, however, that his ordination did not take place long before 1627, when he was appointed chaplain to the Duke of Buckingham on his military expedition to the Isle of Rh^. We have, accordingly, a period of no less than ten years, during which we learn nothing of Herrick except what he chooses to tell us in his poems. These make it clear that he moved freely at this time in some of the most important circles of London hfe, was intimate with city fathers and their wives, with noblemen and noblewomen, with musicians, men of letters, and men of law ; but, in spite of his many friendships, his name has as yet been sought in vain among the printed and un- printed records of the period. T^ere is no mention of him prior to 1629 in any of the State Papers, or in any of the valuable collections of records published by the Historical Manuscripts Commission, with the exception of that reference to his debts at Trinity Hall, already alluded to. The letter-writers of the time are also silent concerning him. James HoweU, who, when in London, moved in the same circles as Herrick, and, like him, was able to subscribe himself " son and servitor " to Ben Jonson, never mentions his name in his Familiar Letters. It would also be interesting to know how the im- pectmious Cambridge student of former years managed to meet the expenses of fashionable London hfe during the whole of this period. We know that he had patrons like Endymion Porter, MUdmay Fane, Earl of W^tmor- land, and the princely Philip, Earl of Pembroke, who supplied him with what he happily calls " the oil of maintenance " ; but at what period in his career he first won their patronage is imcertain. But whether he ob- tained some lucrative appointment at Court or elsewhere, or was dependent for has sustenance on patrons and rich relations, or whether he had learnt Mrs Rawdon Crawley's 52 ROBERT HERRICK art of living well on nothing a year, one thing is certain : there is throughout his poems, which tell us so much of his state of mind and body, no mention of poverty until we reach the time of his ejection from Dean Prior in 1647. He has left us no " Compleynt to his Purse," and even hastens to assure his readers in his Farewell unto Poetry} which was almost certainly written in 1629, th^t it is not lack of money which leads him to the priesthood. Apostrophizing the muse of poetry as the almighty nature that gives Food, White fame and resurrection to the good, he earnestly bids her turn from him at this crisis in his career : But unto me be only hoarse, since now (Heaven and my soul bear record of my vow) I my desires screw from thee, and direct Them and my thoughts to that sublim'd respect And conscience unto priesthood ; 'tis not need (The scarecrow unto mankind) that doth breed Wiser conclusions in me, since I know I've more to bear my charge than way to go ; Or had I not, I'd stop the spreading itch Of craving more, so in conceit be rich. But 'tis the God of Nature who intends And shapes my function for more glorious ends.' The story of Herrick's London years, as far as we can piece it together by the help of his poems, is the story of his friendships. His friends were many, and thanks to the geniality of his nature, to which his poems bear abundant testimony, he moved freely in circles some- what widely separated from each other. The circle which he would most naturally enter when he first came up from Cambridge was that of his own family — ^the circle of prosperous city merchants, alderman uncles, and lady 1 Poems not included in the Hesperides, Pollard, ii. 263. ' ii. 263. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 53 mayoress aunts. On his mother 's side were the " honoured kinsmen " to whom some of the Hesperides poems are addressed — Sir William Soame, his brother Sir Thomas, who at a later period held the posts of Sheriff of London and Middlesex, Lord Mayor of London, and M.P. for the city; also Mr Stephen Soame, the son of either Sir William or Sir Thomas, and Sir Richard Stone. On his father's side there were, in addition to his merchant brother Nicholas, his wife and family — to whom, accord- ing to Nichols' History of Leicestershire, no less than seven poems are addressed ^ — ^the various branches of the family of Wheeler, one member of which, John Wheeler the goldsmith, had married a daughter of Mr Robert Herrick of Leicester, the poet's uncle. Towards one of the Wheelers he seems to have felt something deeper than kinship. This was Ehzabeth Wheeler, who may, perhaps, be identified with the Elizabeth, daughter of Edmund Wheeler, that was baptized in St Vedast's Church, Foster Lane, on July 20, 1589. He celebrates her beauty in three of his most graceful poems (Nos. 130, 263, 1068), wooing her, somewhat after the manner of the pastoralists, under the name of Amaryllis. If Herrick was free of the society of city merchants, their wives and pretty daughters, he also had access to the literary circles of the time, and forgathered with poets and wits in the London taverns. His open sesame to this society was, of course, his poetry, which was now poured forth in no stinting measure. Of the delight which he foimd in this tavern life, and of his willingness to " let the canakin cUnk," there can be no question. His bacchanalian verses and his anacreontics in praise of a life of boon fellowship are many and whole-hearted, while his Ode for Ben Jonson (911) is an eloquent tribute 1 These are the following : To his Brother, Nicholas Herrick (iioo) ; To his Sister-in-law, Susanna Herrick [g77) ; Upon his Kinswoman, Mistress Elizabeth Herrick (376) ; To his Kinsman, Thomas Herrick (983) ; To his Kinswoman, Mistress Susanna Herrick (522) ; Upon his Kinswoman, Mistress Bridget Herrick (564) ; To his Nephew to be prosperous in Painting (384). 54 ROBERT HERRICK of his devotion to the " father " who presided over his " sons and servitors " at those Ljnic feasts. Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun. Many of the most distinguished men of the age were included among the frequenters of these taverns. Of poets and dramatists, in addition to Jonson and Herrick, there were Field, Brome, Cartwright, Randolph, Suckling, and Waller ; statesmanship and diplomacy were repre- sented by Lord Falkland, Edward Hyde, and Sir Kenelm Digby ; the Church sent George Morley, the future Bishop of Winchester, and Richard Corbet, the future Bishop of Oxford and Norwich. From the Leges Con- viviales, which were engraved in letters of gold upon black marble above the chimney-piece in the Apollo Chamber in the tavern of The Devil and St. Dunstan, Temple Bar, we learn that ladies were not excluded from the revels, — " Nee lectae foeminaB repudiantor " — but the doors were shut fast against the dullard, the lewd fop, and the whey-faced precisian : " Idiota, insulsus, tristis, turpis abesto." In this congenial society Herrick's muse was not idle. We learn from one of his poems. His Lachrymae (371), written years afterwards at Dean Prior, that he was known to his comrades of these London days as " the music of a feast " ; and it is likely enough that many of his bacchanalian and anacreontic verses, including the magnificent lines. To Live Merrily and trust to Good Verses (201), were specially indited for the ears of the chosen comrades who met in the Apollo Chamber, or at the Sun, the Dog, or the Triple Tun. Towards Ben Jonson himself his feeUngs were ever loyal and devout. When the " Master " died in 1637, Herrick did not contribute anything to the volume of memorial verses, entitled "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 55 Jonsonus Virbius, which was edited by Bishop Duppa in 1638, and which consisted of tributes paid to the dead poet's memory by a vast number of members of the " tribe." But the Devonshire vicar was by no means silent on that occasion. His Ode for Ben Jonson, already referred to, and his epigram upon him, beginning " After the rare arch-poet, Jonson, died " (382), equal in the expression of admiration, as they surpass in poetic worth, any of the poems included in Jonsonus Virbius. The truth is — and it is one to which we shall have to rettim later — ^that Herrick recognized himself as the " arch-poet's " son in a very special manner ; Jonson was his father as head of the tribe of which he had been sealed a member, but he was also his poetic father, to whom he looked for guidance in the composition of his verses. It is in this spirit of discipleship that one of the airiest of his lyrics, his Prayer to Ben Jonson, is written (604) : When I a verse shall make. Know I have pray'd thee. For old religipn's sake. Saint Ben, to aid me. Make the way smooth for me, When I, thy Herrick, Honouring thee, on my knee Offer my lyric. Candles I'll give to thee. And a new altar. And thou. Saint Ben, shalt be Writ in my Psalter. Herrick's devotion to Jonson was apparently of an exclusive nature ; of the other members of the tribe, and of contemporary men of letters outside of it, he tells us very little. He contributed a commendatory poem to the 1647 edition of Beaumont and Fletcher's works, but there is nothing to indicate that he was acquainted with either of these dramatists. He honoured Selden, Denham, and Charles Cotton with verses, and 56 ROBERT HERRICK seems to have been on intimate terms with the last named ; but of Suckling, Carew, Randolph, and the other stars in the Caroline firmament, there is no mention. Apart from Jonson, it would seem as though Herrick hved on more intimate terms with the musicians of Charles's court than with the courtier-poets and other men of letters. This was largely due to the fact that several of the l3nics in the Hesperides and Noble Numbers were written with the express purpose of being set to music and sung before the King in Whitehall. This brought him into touch with both William and Henry Lawes, and also with other leading musicians of the time, Robert Ramsay and Nicholas Laniere. To each of the two brothers, William and Heiury Lawes, Herrick devotes a poem (No. 907 and 851), and the language in which he addresses them is full of cordiality. A study of the pubhshed song-books of the seventeenth century discloses the fact that about a dozen of the songs of the Hesperides were set to music by Henry or William Lawes. In Henry Lawes's three books of Ayres and Dialogues, pubUshed from 1653 onwards, we find the following : — " To a Gentlewoman objecting to his Gray Hairs" (164), "The Primrose" (580), " Leander's Obsequies " (119), " The Bag of the Bee " (92), and the dialogue-poem entitled " The Kiss " (329). Most of these reappear in John Playford's Treasury of Music, pub- hshed in 1669, together with the following : " To EHza- beth Wheeler, under the name of the Lost Shepherdess " (263), " The WiUow Garland " (425), and the famous song " To Anthea — Bid me to Live " (267). The com- poser of the music in the case of each of the above Ij/rics was Heiury Lawes. His brother WiUiam set to music " To the Virgins to make much of Time " (208), better known as " Gather ye Rosebuds," and the two dialogue- poems, " Charon and Philomel " (730) and " The New Charon " (ii. p. 270) ; these also find a place in Playford's collection, together with the lyric, " How Lihes came White (190)," set to music by Nicholas Laniere. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 57 Very little reference has so far been made to Herrick's love-poems, and it is now time to turn our attention to the " lovely mistresses," the " fresh and fragrant mis- tresses," to whom these are addressed, or whose freshness and fragrance they celebrate. The gift of verse, which opened to him the doors of the Apollo Chamber at Temple Bar, also made him a persona grata with some of the Stuart beauties. One of these, " Mistress Kathe- rine Bradshaw, the lovely," seems on one occasion to have placed a laurel wreath upon his brow, and to have won for herself thereby that amaranthine wreath which the* poet promises to all who are enshrined in his verses. ^ His " mistresses," as the most casual reader of his poems must be aware, are many. Here are some of them : Upon the Loss of his Mistresses (39) I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses : Stately Julia, prime of all : Sappho next, a principal : Smooth Anthea, for a skin White, and heaven-Uke crystalline : Sweet Electra, and the choice Mjnrha, for the lute and voice : Next Corinna, for her wit. And the graceful use of it : With Perilla : all are gone ; Only Herrick's left alone For to number sorrow by Their departures hence, and die. The list is extensive, but by no means complete. Elsewhere we meet with Lucia, with whom he plays at stool-ball for sugar-cakes and wine ; Dianeme, from whose finger he sucks the sting of a " fretful bee," moral- izing as he does it ; Biancha, whom, when he is blind, he wiU be able to follow by her perfumes ; Perenna, who is invited to dress his tomb with smallage," cypress-twigs, 1 To Mistress Katherme Bradshaw, the lovely, that crowned him with Laurel (224). 2 Water parsley. 58 ROBERT HERRICK and tears ; Phillis, whom he invites to share the sweets of a country life with him ; Silvia, the patient saint, and Oenone. To these, finally, must be added the ladies with real names to whom he professes love — Mistress Elizabeth Wheeler, his kinswoman ; Mistress Dorothy Parsons, the daughter of the organist at Westminster Abbey ; Mistress Amy Potter, the daughter of his predecessor in the living at Dean Prior; and Mistress' Dorothy Keneday. Some of Herrick's critics, placing charity above truth, would have us believe that these mistress-poems belong ex- clusively to the poet's " wild, unhallowed times," before he took orders, but there is surprisingly little to adduce in proof of such a theory ; it is, indeed, almost certain that some of them are to be associated with his life in Devon- shire. The references in these poems to grey hairs, advanc- ing years, and the approach of death, do not, of course, count for much in determining their date ; l3rric poets from Anacreon onwards have at all times loved to dwell on such things. But there is one poem, obviously written only a few years before the publication of Hesperides, which sufficiently refutes the idea that Julia, Anthea, Corinna, and all the other "dainty mistresses," belong exclusively to the London years. The poem is entitled The Bad Season makes the Poet Sad (612) and reads as follows : Dull to myself, and almost dead to these My many fresh and fragrant mistresses : Lost to all music now, since every thing Puts on the semblance here of sorrowing. Sick is the land to the heart, and doth endure More dangerous faintings by her desp'rate cure. But if that golden age would come again. And Charles here rule, as he before did reign ; If smooth and unperplexed the seasons were. As when the sweet Maria Uved here ; I should delight to have my curls half drown' d In T3rrian dews, and head with roses crown' d ; And once more yet, ere I am laid out dead. Knock at a star with my exalted head. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 59 This poem evidently belongs to the period of the Civil War, when Queen Henrietta Maria was abroad, and the power of Charles was tottering to its fall. It is hard, too, to believe that the most beautiful of all his mistress- poems, Corinna's going a-Maying (178), could have been written amid London associations. The atmosphere of the-^eem is that of the rvnnnfrY, anrl ^hf^hrim ^'"^^ whrrh " Ahf pnpt hag irivpsfpd TiTT" desrriptinn nf flip ]Aay-r\ay festival a ccords with the Ufa of Dean Prior rather than with that of Westminster or the taverns of the City. A more difficult point to determine is that of the reality, or unreality, of these many mistresses. Are they real women whom Herrick knew and paid court to, or are they dream-children, created by a poet's fancy, and calling no man father ? Mr Edmimd Gosse has dis- cussed this matter at some length in his essay on Herrick in Seventeenth Century Studies, but most of the poet's editors have refrained from expressing any very definite opinion. Mr Gosse refuses to believe in Perilla, Silvia, ^thea, and the deae minores, but has a very real faith in Julia of the " Black eyes, double chin, and strawberry- cream complexion." ^ He thinks that she belonged to the poet's Cambridge years,^ and that she died before 1629. He even hints at a serious liaison between the poet and Julia, and regards her as the mother of the girl to whom is addressed the poem entitled Mr Herrick : His Daughter's Dowry.^ Julia is certainly the mistress who produces on our minds the greatest impression of reality, and we may therefore consider her first. If she elude our grasp, we may dismiss the remaining mistresses of classic name as airy nothings, without further comment. The poet mentions Julia in some sixty poems of the Hesperides, and confesses that of his " many dainty mistresses " she is " prime of all." From her he takes ^ Seventeenth Century Studies, p. 123. 3 Mr Ltosse, wn ting in 1B72, Delieved that Herrick remained at Cam- bridge until appointed vicar of Dean Prior. 8 " Poems not included in Hesperides," Pollard, ii. 260. 6o ROBERT HERRICK affectionate leave before starting on his voyage ' — ^the voyage was probably that to the Isle of Rhe in 1627 ; he bids her bum his poems if he shaU at his death leave them imperfected,^ and upon her he lays other -solemn charges, if she shall outHve him. Yet with all this sincerity of utterance and semblance of reality, it is not at all certain that Julia is anything more than a poetic fiction. Though she is celebrated in poem after poem, she leaves upon the mind a very shadowy impression. We hear much of the ruby redness of her Ups, the " candour " of her teeth, the perfumes she exhales, and the clothes she wears ; but when we try to form a conception of her as a real woman we fail. There are, too, strange inconsistencies in what the poet tells us of her. Often enough she appears as a light o' love, and is addressed in language which is grossly sensual ; but in the curious poem, Julia's Churching, or Purification (898), she comes before us as a chaste matron, making her way to church with her monthly nurse ! But what strikes us most in the love-poems to Juha and her rivals is the complete absence of an3^hing hke incident or drama. There is no development in the poet's amours, no inrush of hot jealousy, no satiety, no quarrelling, no reconciliation, llie poet, in spite of his fourteen mis- tresses, has no rivals who seek to rob him of his love. We have, indeed, only to compare, in this respect, Herrick's mistress-poems with those of other poets in whose case we know that the love and the loved ones are real, in order to appreciate this difference. Catullus's love for Lesbia can be traced exactly through its different stages — ^passionate yearning, full fruition, disillusionment and jealousy, ending in bitter loathing — and something hke this dramatic development is found in some of the love-poetry of Elizabethan poets — for instance, in the love-elegies of Donne. Is it not, too, the presence of this dramatic development which makes the love-story 1 His Sailing from Julia (35). * His Request to Julia (59). "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 6i of Shakespeare's Sonnets seem so real ? But of all this there is nothing in the Hesperides. The poet loves and is loved. His placid, passionless mistresses accept his gallant advances in silence and appear to him in his dreams ; they fall sick and recover ; they object to his grey hairs, but crown his head with roses ; they find him growing old and infirm, but love him none the less. And all this appUes to Julia just as much as to any of the other mistresses. He entreats her to close his eyes when death overtakes him, and foUow him with tears to the grave ; but he asks Perilla to perform the same service for him, and forgets that the presence of two such rivals at a clergyman's bedside and tomb might be a cause of scandal. Again, do not these fanciful classical names of Her- rick's mistresses, when set over against the real names of Elizabeth Wheeler, Dorothy Keneday, and Amy Potter, to whom also the poet protests his love, suggest the fictitious character of those who bear them ? We have no reason to doubt the genuineness of his affection for the latter, though its ardour does not seem to have been lasting. There is, indeed, a fervoiu: in the poem entitled His Parting from Mistress Dorothy Keneday (122), which is rarely met with in the verses addressed to Julia. I cannot follow Mr Gosse in his statement that the poems to JuUa belong exclusively to the period before the poet's ordination. I beUeve, on the contrary, that they extend over the whole period of his manhood up to 1648, and that some of them — for instance. His Charge to Julia at his Death (627) — ^were probably written not long before the publication of Hesperides. Still less can I agree with him in thinking that Julia was the mother of the girl addressed in His Daughter's Dowry?- There is absolutely no statement to this effect in the poem itself, and, knowing as we do the poet's love of make-believe, we have a right to question the very existence of this supposed daughter. The poem is not 1 See Pollard, ii. 260. 62 ROBERT HERRICK included in the Hesperides, but has been introduced by modem editors into the collective works of Herrick frorri Ashmole MS. 38, in the Bodleian.'- It bears at the dose of it the poet's signature — " Robt. Hericke," and its style, above all the prevalence of run-on verses, suggests that it is of early date. In casting doubt upon the reality of this daughter, it must be remembered how fond the poet was of setting up lay-figures in order to clothe them with the draperies of his abundant fancy. Among the Hesperides is a poem entitled The Parting Verse, or Charge to his Supposed Wife when he Travelled (465), in which he sets forth in detail the course of life which this lady is to follow during his absence. From first to last the poem is a tissue of pure fantasy. There seems to be, therefore, no sufficient reason for supposing that Julia had any more real existence than Corinna, Anthea, or any of the other classically named mistresses to whom the poet makes love. And Herrick, if I read him aright, comes 'very near to making on one occasion a confession of the counterfeit nature of the poems addressed to her and her rivals : To His Book (194) Like to a bride, come forth, my book, at last. With all thy richest jewels overcast ; Say, if there be, 'mongst many gems here, one , Deserveless of the name of paragon : Blush not for that, for we have set Some pearls on queens that have been counterfeit. We have tarried long over the poet's mistresses, and it is time to hasten on. The Hesperides poems maJce it clear that, in addition to men of letters and musicians, Herrick also numbered amongst his friends certain country knights, courtiers, and court-ofiicials ; that promiaent members of the nobility were his patrons, and that some of his lyrics were sung in the royal presence at Whitehall. 1 See PoUard, ii. 260. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 63 The poem entitled A New Year's Gift to Sir Simon Steward (319), was probably written in the December of 1623 ; ^ it is a poetical epistle, apparently written from somewhere in the country to Sir Simon who is in town. The poet, instead of sending his friend poUtical news and discussion of state policy, informs him of Winter's tales and mirth. That milkmaids make about the hearth — of Christmas sports and Twelfth-tide feasts, and all the other festivities which belong to a Yuletide in the country. At the same time, he is anxious that he shall not be for- gotten by his London friends in his absence. Another associate of these years was Sir Lewis Pem- berton, a Northamptonshire knight, with a seat at Rushden in that county. Herrick seems to have paid a visit to this country house, and gives us in his Panegyric to Sir Lewis Pemherton (377) a glowing picture of the hospitable board of a country knight in the seventeenth century. The contemporary character-writers, who draw their bows at a venture, are fond of ridiculing the country gentleman " whose travel is seldom farther than the next market-town," who is awkward and out of place in town, and " must home again, being like a dor that ends his flight in a dunghill." ^ But Herrick, while glancing at the churlishness of certain members of the class, pa}^ a warm tribute to the hospitahty and inborn kindUness of Sir Lewis. Of Herrick's friends at Court notice may first of all be taken of Edward Norgate, Clerk of the Signet to Charles I., John Crofts, Cupbearer to the King, and Sir John Mennes, the Commander of the Navy, and a minor poet of some fame in his day. To each of these Herrick addresses verses. Reference has already been made to the noblemen 1 See Pollard's Note to this poem. * Sir Thomas Overbury's Characters : " The Country Gentleman." 64 ROBERT HERRICK and Court favourites whom Herrick reckoned among his patrons — Philip, Earl of Pembroke, Mildmay Fane, Earl of Westmorland, Robert Pierrepont, Viscount Newark, and Mr Endymion Porter, Groom of His Majesty's Bedchamber. Of these the most important was the last, who seems to have been to Herrick what the im- pecunious undergraduate had vainly desired his uncle. Sir WiUiam, to be — " a true Maecenas." Porter was, after Buckingham, one of the most influential of the King's courtiers. Bom in 1587, he had been educated in Spain, and had served for a time in the household of Olivares. Returning to England, he had entered the service of the royal favourite, Buckingham, and his for- tunes had advanced concurrently with those of his master. Through Buckingham's influence he was made Gentleman of the King's Bedchamber about 1620, and when the Spanish marriage scheme was afoot, his know- ledge of Spain led to his being sent thither in 1622 to prepare for the arrival of the princely wooer. He re- turned to England, but in the following year accompanied Prince Charles and Buckingham to Madrid. After the new king's accession, End57mion Porter attained to still higher power and influence. The State Papers have much to relate of the part he took in the affairs of Court and State, and of the princely gifts bestowed upon him by the King. In later years he shared in the misfortimes of his party. After sitting in the Long Parliament as member for Droitwich, he was expelled from that body in 1643 on account of his supposed connection with a popish plot. A little later we find him with Queen Henrietta in Holland ; shortly before the King's death he returned to England, and is supposed to have died obscurely at London in the August of 1649.^ It was Porter's ambition, when in the heyday of his fortune, to shine as the patron of men of letters. To 1 See State Papers, Domestic, of the reigns of James I. and Charles I., passim, and Dorothea Townshend, The Life and Letters of Endymion eorter ; also E. B. de Fonblanque, Lives of the Lords Stransford. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 65 him Dekker dedicated his Dream in the year 1620, and Davenant his play, The Wits, in 1634. Thomas May, Edmund Bolton and Gervase Warmestry were amongst his friends, and the last-named, dedicating to him his England's Wound and its Cure in 1628, speaks of him as beloved by two kings : " by James for bis admirable wit, and by Charles for his general learning, brave style, sweet temper, great experience, travels, and modem languages." That, in addition to these qualities, he was an accomplished connoisseur is attested by the tact that he was one of the agents employed by Charles I. in forming his famous collection of pictures. The friendship between Porter and Herrick seems to have been close and honourable. There is no trace of servihty in the poet's reference to the wealthy patron at whose porch he finds a " state of poets " attending upon him.^ He confesses that Porter has given him " the oil of maintenance," just as Horace owns the gifts of the Sabine farm from Maecenas ; but in acknowledging this bounty, he neither flatters nor fawns. The most beautiful of the poems that bring Porter before us is the Eclogue, or Pastoral between Endymion Porter and Lycidas Herrick (492), which is written in the lightest and most graceful manner of the Spenserian school. In it the poet declares himself jealous of the time which his patron and friend is spending at Court, and entreats him to leave those pleasures and distractions for Latmos and the society of Florabell, handsome-handed DrosomeU, and dainty AmaryUis. The mention of Endymion Porter brings us back to Herrick's earlier friend, John Weekes, sometime Fellow of St John's College, Cambridge. It is uncertain which of the two men left the University first, but it is probable that they spent some years in London together, and met under Porter's roof. Weekes was for some time Porter's chaplain, and it is possible that it was Herrick who obtained for him this congenial post. In a letter to 1 See To the Honoured Master, Endymion Porter (1071). 66 ROBERT HERRICK Porter,^ dated July 5, 1629, Weekes addresses him as " My deare Patrone ; " and in a second letter, written on October 3, 1633, when Weekes, like Herrick, was a parson in Devonshire, he subscribes himself, " Your epicene chaplaine, both hee and shee, Joh. Weekes and littel b." The jest which lurks in the words " epicene " and " littel b " is lost to us now, but the tone of the letter enables us to see in Weekes the humorist whose reputation for joviality is recorded by Anthony k Wood. It was probably through the instrumentality of Porter that Herrick came under the notice of Porter's patrons, the Duke of Buckingham and the King. It has been suggested by Mr Carew Hazlitt that the poet " had some employment of a subordinate character at the chapel in Whitehall, and we should assign to this period and circumstance the composition of those pieces among the Noble Numbers which bear a relation to that institution." ^ The pieces in question are the Christmas Carols and Songs for the Circumcision, which are described as " sung before the King, in the Presence at Whitehall." Mr HazUtt's theory also receives some support from the words of the following distich in the Noble Numbers (62): God and the King How am I bound to two ! God, who doth give The mind ; the King, the means whereby I live. On the other hand, it may be argued that if Herrick had held a post at court, we might expect to find some reference to it, and some mention of the salary paid to him, among the State Papers of the period. We meet with frequent references of this character in the case of Laniere, Ramsay, William and Henry Lawes, and " other gentlemen of the chapel," but there is nowhere 1 See Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, 1639-1631, p. 5, * Introduction to Herrick's Works, p. xv. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 67 any mention of Herrick. But whatever be the relation- ship in which the poet stood to the court, it is certain that Charles was acquainted with him and his verses, and that some of his lyrics, including poems of a secular as well as of a sacred nature, were sung to him, after being set to music by the royal musicians. Nor did Herrick allow himself to be entirely forgotten by his monarch when residence in his Devonshire parish severed him from the court. He celebrated the births of the princes, Charles and James, in 1630 and 1633 respectively, addressed verses to the King during the civil wars, and welcomed him with a song when, in 1647, he came to reside, under the protection of Cromwell's army, in the royal palace at Hampton Court. In the list of Herrick's patrons must also be placed the powerful Duke of Buckingham, though the verses addressed To the high and noble Prince George, Duke, Marquis, and Earl of Buckingham (245) show reverent regard rather than intimacy.^ But for some months of the year 1627 it was the poet's lot to spend much time in the duke's company. Early in that year the King had decided to send an expedition to the Isle of Rhe in defence of the French Huguenots, and to Buckingham had been entrusted the leadership. Encountering numer- ous difficulties, the ill-starred expedition did not set out until June 27, when some hundred sail, carrying six thousand foot and a hundred horse, left Stokes Bay for the French island. Herrick, who was now probably entrusting his fortunes to the waves for the first time in his life, seems to have regarded the step he was taking with some concern, and we are probably right in ascribing to this occasion the composition of the poems, His Sailing from Julia (35), The Parting Verse, or Charge to his Sup- posed Wife when he Travelled (465), and, perhaps, his Short Hymn to Neptune (325). The first of these reads as follows : 1 Some time after Buckingham's death in i6a8, he addresses a poem to the duke's niece, the Lady Mary Villiers ; see No. 341. 68 ROBERT HERRICK When that day comes, whose evening says I'm gone Unto that watery desolation. Devoutly to thy closet-gods then pray That my wing'd ship may meet no remora.' Those deities which circum-walk the seas. And look upon our dreadful passages. Will from all dangers re-deUver me For one drink-offering poured out by thee. Mercy and truth live with thee ! and forbear. In my short absence, to unsluice a tear ; But yet for love's sake let thy lips do this. Give my dead picture one engendering Idss : Work that to life, and let me ever dwell In thy remembrance, JuHa. So farewell. In other poems he begs his supposed wife to be a Penelope in his absence from her, and promises that if " the great blue ruler of the seas " will prove propitious, he will return before many " full-faced moons shall wane." To Neptune he promises a tunny-fish as thank-offering, if he wiU speed him safely to his destination. The various English and French accounts of the ill- fated expedition to the Isle of Rhe which I have seen make no mention of the duke's chaplain. On the French side we hear much of the " vrais dogues d'Angleterre qui devorent leurs semblables," and of their leader " Bouquincan " whose name the GalHc wit of the besieged soldiers anagrammatizes into " coquin bani." * The English State Papers, and the late Professor S. R. Gar- diner 3 furnish us with a detailed account of the siege, of the shortage in men and troops, of the delay in sending reinforcements, and of the ignominious return of the English fleet in the following November. The duke's chaplain doubtless saw a good deal of the military opera- tions, and if the poem entitled A Vow to Mars (386) is to 1 " Remora, the sea lamprey, or suckstone, believed to check the course of ships by clinging to their keels " (Pollard). 2 See " Lettre du Baron de Sainct Surin k un sien amy dans I'armfe du Roy. Ecritte de la Citadelle S. Martin de Re ce lo Septembre (1627)." ^History of England, 1603-1642, vol. vi. p. 167. "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 69 be regarded seriously, actually took part in them on one occasion. Herrick's military chaplaincy indicates that, in the year 1627 ^t the latest, he had tinally decided to enter the service of the Church. On his return from the Isle of Rhe — " or, as some call it, the Isle of Rue, for the bitter success we had there " ^ — ^he was within measurable distance of his " banishment " to the " loathed West," but before we follow him there, it will be well to form a conception of his personality during these years of London life. The naive self-portraiture of Herrick in his verses atones to some extent for the meagreness of external evidence as to his Ufe and character. Those verses help us to follow the poet along his primrose path of dalliance, enjoying to the fuU the pleasures of London society, and taking no thought for the morrow : I fear no earthly powers, But care for crowns of flowers ; And love to have my beard With wine and oil besmeared. This day I'll drown all sorrow ; Who knows to live to-morrow ? ^ This is the cry of the anacreontic l5nist all the world over, and in Herrick's case, at least, there is no reason to doubt that, during these London years, the sentiment was genuine and spontaneous. The same thoughts and feelings recur in the ode entitled " His Age, dedicated to his peculiar friend, Mr John Wickes (Weekes), under the name of Posthumus " {336). Here there is wistful regret for the years that are no more, and a foreboding that worse times are to follow ; but the poet refuses to give way to gloomy thoughts, and, so far from experiencing sorrow's crown of sorrow, feasts rapturously on past memories, washed down with copious draughts of " brave Burgundian wine " : 1 Howell, Familiar Letters, ed. Jacobs, I. 250. 2 No. 170. 70 ROBERT HERRICK Crown we our heads with roses then. And 'noint with Tyrian balm ; for when We two are dead. The world with us is buried. Then Uve we free As is the air, and let us be Our own fair wind, cind mark each one Day with the white and lucky stone. As a picture of the poet's manner of life at the time when it was written, and of the golden days that had gone before, the poem is of great v^ue. It is the Herrick of the taverns that is revealed, the " music of a feast," whose lyrics win the applause of Jonson himself and of every other member of the tribe. Elsewhere he stands before us as the squire of dames ; he is many times entertained by " the most virtuous Mistress Pot," and, as is his wont, rewards her with a poem and a declaration that she is the " lamp eternal to my poetry " ; ^ to another of his ladies he sends not only a string of verses but also "a pipkin of jelly," which inspires the verses.^ His mistress-poems are full of all sorts of gallantry, and, as the verses to the Countess of CarUsle (169) — ^the heroine of Browning's Strafford — show, he could pay a compli- ment to a lugh-bom noblewoman with the fine grace of the consummate cavalier : I saw about her spotless wrist Of blackest silk, a curious twist. Which, circumvolving gently, there Enthrall' d her arm as prisoner. Dark was the gaol, but as if light Had met t' engender with the night ; Or so as darkness made a star. To show at once both night aiid day. One fancy more ! but if there be Such freedom in captivity, I beg of Love that ever I May in like chains of darkness lie.' 1 To Mistress Pot (226). " A Ternary of Littles (733). s Upon a black twist rounding the arm of the Countess of Carlisle (169). "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 71 The year 1629 brought with it a great change in the poet's circumstances and manner of life. The essenced cavaUer, the sealed member of the tribe of Ben, became the coimtry parson, and exchanged the gay society of London and the Court for a vicarage and ninety-three acres of glebe. Late in the summer of that year he lost his mother, who had been spending the last years of her life in the comfortable home of her daughter, Mercy Wingfield, at Brantham in Suffolk. Of the poet's relations with her we know nothing, and speculation on such a matter is particularly undesirable. She left him in her wiU a ring of the value of twenty shillings, a hke gift being made to her son Nicholas and her daughter-in-law, the wife of William Herrick. To her son Thomas, whose financial difficulties as a farmer have already been mentioned, she left nothing ; he may have died before 1629. She bequeathed £100 to her son William, but most of her property went to the daughter in whose house she died. Her various legacies to friends and ser- vants, and to the poor of Brantham, show that she was possessed of fairly ample means at the time of her death.^ Very soon after his mother's funeral, Herrick set out for Devonshire. A docquet, preserved among the domestic series of State Papers in the PubUc Record Office, and endorsed September 30, 1629, furnishes us with the following information : " A presentaeon to the vicarige of Deane-Prior in the dioces of Exeter for Robert Hearick, Gierke, and M^ of Arts, the same being void by the promo&)n of the last Incumbent to the Bishoprick of CarlUe. Subscf upon significacon of his Ma*^ pleasure by the Lord Viscount Dorchester, and procured by his Lo". p. Gall." The Uving of Dean Prior was in the hands of Sir Edward Giles,- the lord of the manor there, but as Dr 1 The will is transcribed verbatim in Grosart's Memorial Introduction, p. ixxxiv. 72 ROBERT HERRICK Potter had been promoted to a bishopric, the right of presenting a successor reverted to the King ; the inference therefore is that Herrick owed his living to Charles . There was apparently some sUght delay in the negotiations, for among the State Papers we meet with the following, which is in Herrick's own neat handwriting, and which furnishes us with the valuable information as to the poet's service under Buckingham in the Isle of Rhe : " To the Kinges most excellent Majesty : The humble peticon of Robert Hericke, Chaplajme to the late Duke of Buckingham' in the Isle of Reis. Whereas yt was yo' Ma*^ especiall favour to bestow on y" petiGoer the vica- ridge of Deane, by y° remoovaU of Doctor Potter to y' B^^ of Carlyle. It may now please yo' most sacred Ma*^ (the Commenda granted to him by yo' Ma'^ being expired this present Michas) that yo' sov'aigne command may goe forth to the signature for the dispatch of the petiCoer, who shall ever pray for yo' Ma*^ longe and happie raigne. — Coetera mando Deo." A further confirmation of Herrick's appointment to the Devonshire living is found in the nineteenth volume of Rymer's Fcedera where, in a Ust of preferments for the year 1629, we read : " Robertus Hearick, Clericus, A.M., habet consimUes Literas Patentes de presentatione ad Vicariam de Dearie Prior, Diocesis Exoniensis, jam legittime et de jure vacantem." If one of Herrick's poems is to be believed — and there is in it an accent of sincerity and real emotion which is rarely met with elsewhere — it is manifest that he reahzed to the fuU the seriousness of the step which he was now taking, and the lofty duties of the services to which he was dedicating his Ufe and his powers. It was one thing to be chaplain to the Duke of Buckingham ; another, and a very different thing, to be the spiritual "SEALED OF THE TRIBE OF BEN" 73 guide and pastor of a village community. In the Ash- mole MS. 38, which contains several of Herrick's poems, is a copy of verses entitled Mr Robert Herrick : His Farewell unto Poetry,^ and it was Dr Grosart who first pointed out the importance of these verses in their bearing on the poet's life and character, and drew atten- tion to the fact that they were written when he was leaving London for Dean Prior. Some of the verses of this poem have already been quoted (see p. 52) as evi- dence of the poet's freedom from poverty during his London years ; but it behoves us now to consider the poem as a whole more closely. The underlying idea of it is that Herrick feels it his duty, now that he is taking upon him the cure of souls, to bid farewell to poetry, save only in as far as it can be apphed to the noble numbers of sacred song. The parting is hard, for the muse of poetry has been the yoke-fellow of his Ufe, filling him with rapture and mystic frenzy : Even such are we, and in our parting do No otherwise than as those former two Natures like ours ; we who have spent our time Both from the morning to the evening chime. Nay, till the bellman of the night had tolled Past noon of night — yet were the hours not old Nor duUed with iron sleep — but have outworn The fresh and fairest flourish of the mom With flame and rapture ; drinking to the odd Number of nine, which makes us full with God. And in that mystic frenzy we have hurled. As with a tempest, nature through the world, And in a whirlwind twirl' d her home, aghast At that which in her ecstasy had passed ; Thus crowned with rosebuds, sack, thou mad'st me fly. Like fire-drakes, yet didst me no harm thereby.* But now he turns from poetry and bids her be hoarse to him. The God of Nature is now shaping his powers 1 There is another copy of the same poem, with a few variants, in the British Museum, Add. MS. 22, 603. > Poems not included in Hesperides ; Pollard ii, 264, {i,m 3 a 74 ROBERT HERRICK for more glorious ends, and he is entering a higher sphere of service than that of the muses of Helicon. He casts upon his mistress the wistful eyes of Orpheus as he turned to look upon his Eurydice, or those of Demos- thenes and Cicero as they fixed their gaze upon the fatherland from which they were banished ; and then, with tears starting from his eyes, bids her farewell : Then part in name of peace, and softly on With numerous • feet to hoofy Helicon ; And when thou art upon that forked hill Amongst the thrice three sacred virgins, fill A fuU-brimm'd bowl of fury and of rage. And quaff it to the poets of our age . . . Thus with a Idss of warmth and love I part. Not so,, but that some relic in my heart Shall stand for ever, though I do address Chiefly myself to what I must profess. Know yet, rare soul, when my diviner muse Shall want a handmaid, as she oft will use. Be ready, thou for me, to wait upon her. Though as a servant, yet a maid of honour. The crown of duty is our duty : well Doing's the fruit of doing weU. Farewell. 1 Numerous=moving in rhythmic numbers. CHAPTER IV DEAN PRIOR Dean Prior, to which Herrick was " banished " in the autumn of 1629, is a parish of about four thousand acres, situated on the south-eastern slopes of Dartmoor. The high-road from Exeter to Pl3miouth passes through the scattered village, and within a five miles' radius of Herrick's church he the ancient townships of Totnes and Ashburton. Modem civilization, as represented by railways and factories, has laid the lightest of fingers upon Dean Prior, and to this day the village, though somewhat shrunk in size and importance, presents to the visitor very much the same appearance that it did to Herrick on his arrival there in 1629. Many of the cottages still retain their thatched roofs and penthouses, their open hearths and massive chimneys ; and though the manor- houses have been shorn of much of their former splendour, they have at any rate been spared the hand of the modern renovator. Age, so far from withering their pristine beauty, has enhanced it by the mellowed colours of stone and woodwork. Ivy, roses, and honeysuckle creep over the cottages, and the little roadside gardens are still gay with the flowers which we meet with in the Hesperides — daffodils, primroses, violets, and wallflowers, the crimson pseony, and the stately white Uly. In the valley are water-meadows, each meadow irrigated in the characteristic Devonian manner by " leats " which bring fertility from the Dartmoor streams ; and above these, 76 76 ROBERT HERRICK climbing upwards towards the heather moors, are the cornfields, the bright red earth of which glows in the early spring smishine. But the chief beauty of the village Ues in its apple orchards, which creep close to the church and the cottages and follow the devious windings of Dean Bum. For six months of the year the trees are grey with ragged lichen, but in the first warm days of May, the greyness is hidden beneath sheets of rosy " blooth," to be followed, as spring and summer merge into autumn, by clusters of golden fruit. There is no more characteristic feature of the combes of South Devon than these apple orchards, and they must at the same time have recalled to Herrick's mind the uda Mobilibus pomaria rivis of Horace's Tibur, and thus have led him to compare his Devonshire glelae with the Sabine farm of the famous Roman lyrist. Dean Burn, to which Herrick has given enduring obloquy, is a typical Dartmoor stream. Taking its rise on the moors to the west of the village, it makes its way first of all through a rocky gorge where buzzard and carrion-crow find a resting place, only to lose itself later among thick coppices of scrub-oak and hazel. Even when the combe widens and the waters of the bum grow more placid, it still preserves something of its " warty incivihty " : Thy rocky bottom, that doth tear thy streams And makes them frantic even to all extremes. To my content I never should behold. Were thy streams silver, or thy rocks all gold ! ' The stream divides the parish of Dean Prior from that of Buckfastleigh, and at last pours its waters into those of the Dart, not far from the walls of the old Cistercian abbey of Buckfast. 1 To Dean Bum (86). DEAN PRIOR 77 The background to this picture of cornfields and watered meadows, orchards and woodlands, is formed by great stretches of moorland, the soft contours of which are now and again broken by rugged granite tors. As one stands in Dean Prior churchyard, and looks northward across the valley of the Dart, a wide stretch of this moorland scenery skirts the horizon and adds an element of grandeur and vastness to the idyllic beauty which lies at one's feet. But for the glories of Dartmoor Herrick cared as little as that other Devonshire poet of the seventeenth century, William Browne, who, with all his love for the rich scenery of the Tavy valley, was content to leave the adjoining moorlands unsung. The church and parsonage of Dean Prior now stand close to the high-road, but in the seventeenth century the road passed nearer to the moors, and the chrurch was reached by a lane between high hedgerows. Herrick's church is a somewhat spacious building, chiefly in the Perpendicular style, with nave, north and south aisles, and a western battlemented tower. The vicarage has been altered and enlarged, but some of the older parts of the building, now used as of&ces, are probably not later in date than the seventeenth century, and may well have been the parlour, haU, kitchen, and buttery for which the poet offers his^ymn of thanksgiving to God. Herrick's parishioners were doubtless to a large extent husbandmen, engaged in the cultivation of com and fruit, and in the rearing of cattle and sheep. Some of them, however, were probably occupied in the weaving trade, which the monks of Buckfast had introduced into the Dart valley centuries before, and which to this day remains one of the staple industries of the district. The vUlage of Dean stiU preserves a tradition of a weaver whose ghost used to appear at his loom until laid to rest by the vicar, and Westcote, in his View of Devonshire, published in 1630, makes special mention of a coarse cloth, called narrow-pin-whites, which was produced in the neighbourhood of Totnes. The population of the village ^8 Uomtit HERRICK in 1901 was 259, but the church register gives evideric^ that it was somewhat larger in the seventeenth century. The lord of the manor of Dean, and Herrick's most distinguished parishioner, was Sir Edward Giles, who lived at Dean Court, within half a mile of the church and vicarage. In 1629 the knight was about fifty years of age and a man of standing in the county. In his youth he had travelled, and fought for Queen and country in the Netherlands ; returning to England in 1603, he had been knighted by James I., and after his father's death, he had, in the words of Prince, " the whole power of the county put into his hands. "^ He represented Totnes Borough in several of the parliaments of James I. and Charles I. Connected by marriage with Sir Edward Giles, were the families of Yard, Lowman, and North- leigh, members of which were settled at Dean Prior in Herrick's time, and are celebrated by him in his poems. Of Herrick's manner of hfe at Dean Prior, and of his relationships with his parishioners, we learn a good deal from the Hesperides and Noble Numbers ; but it is not easy to determine exactly how far he appreciated his Devonshire home, and how far it seemed to him a place of bitter exile. In considering this matter, it is important to remember that he was a poet of moods, and that in a period of eighteen years (1629-1647) spent at Dean Prior, he experienced many moods and regarded his life there in different ways. We have already seen with what " sublim'd respect and conscience unto priesthood " he entered upon his holy calling ; we have now to consider the character of his life as vicar. Scattered through the Hesperides are some six poems which express with clearest utterance his " discontents in Devonshire." There is first of all his poem To Dean Burn (86), whose bed, he declares, is as rocky as the hearts of the men who live by it — A people currish, churlish as the seas. And rude almost as rudest savages. 1 Worthies of Devon, p. 42a. DEAN PRIOR 79 Following upon this, is the poem To his Household Gods (278), which ends with the stinging couplet — Search worlds of ice, and rather there Dwell than in loathed Devonshire. Similar repugnance is expressed in the Unes Upon Himself (456), and His Return to London (713), in which he welcomes, with something like rapture, the change of fortune which led to his departure from his country vicarage. The loathing for the West Country which these poems express is uncompromising enough. Were we forced to form a judgment on these alone, it would be possible to compare Herrick's exile at Dean Prior with that of Ovid at Tomi. But if we look at them more closely, we see that, instead of being spread over the whole of the poet's life in Devonshire, they all belong to about the year 1647, the year of his ejection from Dean Prior. Now we do not know with any certainty to what extent the poet's parishioners sjmipathized with the Puritan party during the years of the Civil War, or with what feelings they regarded the dismissal of their vicar and the induction of his Puritan successor, John S5mis. But we can realize that in Dean Prior, as throughout the country, those years of strife must have sorely tried the better feelings of many an Enghsh home. It was a time when household was divided against household and village against village, when homes were ruined and precious blood shed in the defence of creed and party. At such a time, too, the village parson, so far from being able to allay the strife, must himself have been the very centre of the feud, and the butt of insult and calumny. Herrick could not have escaped from all this, and the bitterness of his feehngs finds utterance in his verse. At such a time, and amid such surroundings, the memory of the old London life stirred strange yearnings within him ; the paternal country where much of his youth and early manhood had been spent called him with persistent summons, and 8o ROBERT HERRICK when at last the release came, it was welcomed with rapture. Yet it is evident from one short poem that this feeling of rapture was tempered even at the time by a sense of regret. His parishioners may have grown churlish and currish, but the vicarage with its associations was still dear to him : To Lar (333) No more shall I, since I am driven hence. Devote to thee my grains of frankincense ; No more shall I from mantle-trees hang down. To honour thee, my little parsley crown ; No more shall I (I fear me) to thee bring My chives of garlic for an offering ; No more shall I from henceforth hear a choir Of merry crickets by my country fire. Go where I will, thou lucky Lar stay here. Warm by a gUtt'ring chimney all the year. There remain for consideration two other poems in which Herrick expresses his dislike to Devonshire, and in which there is no indication that they were written at the time of his ejection. These are His Lachrymae (371) and Discontents in Devon (51). The former is written in a mood of deep dejection : Call me no more. As- heretofore. The music of a feast ; Since now, alas ! The mirth that was In me is dead or ceas'd. Before I went To banishment Into the loathed West, I could rehearse A lyric verse, And speak it with the best. DEAN PRIOR 8i But time, ay me ! Has laid, I see. My organ fast asleep ; And tuned my voice Into the noise Of them that sit and weep. If we did not know that Herrick was here giving utterance to a passing mood of despondency, we might assume that his muse entirely deserted him in Devonshire ; we have, of course, abundant evidence that this was not the case, and we need only turn to the Discontents in Devon to find such an assumption plainly falsified : More discontents I never had Since I was born than here. Where I have been, and still am sad. In this dull Devonshire ; Yet, justly too, I must confess I ne'er invented such Ennobled numbers for the press. Than where I loathed so much. What, then, do Herrick's strictures on Devonshire and Dean Prior amount to ? They show plainly enough that during the last months — perhaps the last years — of his residence there, he found his surroundings often distaste- ful and his parishioners churlish and insolent ; they show, too, that at other times he experienced moods of despon- dency in which his present life stood out in drab contrast to the glittering shows of earUer days. There must, indeed, have been many occasions when the poet in his lonely vicarage longed for the song and festive cheer of the Apollo Chamber, the society of courtier friends and the fleshpots of Whitehall, and on a few of these occasions the sense of what he had lost moves him to elegiac lament, or to malediction. But to suppose that this was a prevailing state of mind, and that the whole of his eighteen years' residence in Devonshire was merely a time of bitter exile, is a distortion of the statements recorded by Herrick himself in his poems. Over sigainst 82 ROBERT HERRICK such verses as those To Dean Burn or Discontents in Devon, may be set His Content in the Country (552) which belongs to the Dean Prior period and bears witness to the quiet joy which he and his housekeeper, Prudence Baldwin, experienced in the country vicarage. What is uppermost in his mind at the time when he wrote these verses is a pleasant sense of independence and freedom from care. It was a much more frugal Ufe than that which he had spent in London at. the tables of the rich ; but he had come to realize that frugality, combined with independence, was better than luxury supported by the "oil of maintenance," bestowed upon him by wealthy patrons. Another poem, conceived in the same spirit of simple contentment, and entitled His Grange, or Private Wealth (724), brings the poet's Devonshire life before us with singular vividiiess and charm : Though clock. To tell how night draws hence, I've none, A cock I have to sing how day draws on. I have A maid, my Prew, by good luck sent To save That little Fates me gave or lent. A hen I keep, which creeking day by day. Tells when She goes her long white egg to lay. A goose I have, which with a jealous ear Lets loose , Her tongue to tell that danger's near. A lamb I keep, tame, with my morsels fed. Whose dam An orphan left him, lately dead. A cat I keep that plays about my house. Grown fat With eating many a miching mouse. £)£aN prior 83 To these A Tracy * I do keep whereby I please The more my rural privacy ; Which are But toys to give my heart some ease ; Where care None is, slight things do lightly please. But the poem which brings the Devonshire parson most clearly before us is one contained in the Noble Numbers, and entitled A Thanksgiving to God for his House (47). It is too long, and perhaps too familiar, to quote, but some reference to it may be made, if only to show how completely it refutes the idea that its author was habitually discontented with his surroundings. We see the pa rson seated in the chimne y-fnmpr nf his " cell ," eating his belove d bppt anri Hrinirj^g his spiced wa ssail bowls, while Prue Baldwin i s in the dairy making Devon- .shire rrpRm- O r we toUow him t o his acres of glebe,' where the romfields are ripe to harve pr, and rh^pastnrps wpjl stnrlfpd with thp r ed Devon ca.ttle. The gratitude of •iho p-mVh pripgt ig rliipfly fnr "rrpafi^ re comforts " and the pictHre^whioh"he''p aiTTty~' ii irr mld bfl^rp-i7f44«^^ = It seems likely that what brought the poet to town in 1640 was the importunate demand of his verses for printer's ink. Herrick, acting in accordance with the fashion set by Sidney and some other Elizabethan poets, had up to now neglected to pubUsh any of his verses. They had circulated freely in manuscript, as the poems 1 Tristia, ii. 354. 96 ROBERT HERRICK in the Ashmole, Rawlinson, and Harleian collections show, and as is also evident from statements made in many of the poems themselves. But the thought of printing his effusions had been distasteful to him. In a couplet, entitled Posting to Printing (1022), he says. Let others to the printing press run fast ; Since after death comes glory, I'll not haste. But the march of years, bringing with it the death of friends in whose keeping his poetic fame chiefly rested, had led him to change his mind. It was all very well to invite noble Westmorland and gallant Newark to be the foster-fathers of his verses when their begetter was no more ; but in them " nature's copy's not eteme," and Herrick clung to the faith in the immortality of his fame with a tenacity which has never been equalled. If this immortality was to be won, printing was necessary. As yet only one of his poems had been pubUshed. This was a truncated portion of Oberon's Feast, which had appeared in 1635, in a small volume bearing the following title-page : A I Description | of the King and Queene of | Fayries, their habit, fare, their | abode, pompe and state. | Beeing very delightfull to the sense, and | full of mirth. I [Woodcut.] I London | Printed for Richard Harper, and are to be sold | at his shop, at the Hospital! gate, 1635- The place of honour in this collection of poems is awarded to Herrick's friend Sir Simon Steward, who contributes a poem, entitled A Description of the King of Faery's Clothes, which is declared to have been written as early as 1626. Next follows Herrick's poem, which is here entitled A Description of his Diet. Three other poems, Orpheus, The Fairies Fegaries, and The Melancholy Lover's Song from Fletcher's Nice Valour, bring the volume to a close. It is unknown whether Herrick had any knowledge of, or share in, the publication of this volume of fairy poems. DEAN PRIOR 97 Four years later we meet with the following entry in the Stationers' Register : " 4 Nov. 1639. Entred for his Copie under the hands of doctor Wykes and Master Featherston, warden, An Addicion of some excellent Poems to Shakespeare's Poems by other gentlemen, vizt.. His Mistris drawne and his mind by Benjamin Jonson. An 'Epistle to B. J. by Francis Beaumont. His Mistris Shade by R. Herrick, etc. vi. d." This volume was printed in the following year, and the poem here described as His Mistris Shade proves to be another version, with numerous variants, of the poem in the Hesperides, entitled The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium (575). On this occasion Herrick appears in noble company, and it may be that the inclusion of his poem in a volume containing verses by Shakespeare, Jonson, and Beaumont, was due to the tribute of esteem which His Mistris Shade brought to the memory of the last two poets. Mention is made of Shakespeare in this poem, and his mistress finds the authors of Evadne and Every Man in his Humour walking in the Elysian fields in the company of Homer, Anacreon, Virgil, Horace, " witty Ovid " and " soft Catullus." The poem is one of the most sustained of the Hesperides, and suffers nothing by comparison with those of the mighty ones with which it is associated. The publisher of the volume was John Benson, and the licencer who is referred to as " doctor Wykes " was the poet's tried friend, the vicar of Sherwell. To be associated as a poet with Shakespeare, Jonson, and Beaumont was no small honour for one who until now had to seek his reputation mainly among the circle of friends in which his manuscripts had circulated, and Herrick's last scruples as to pubUshing his poems were now swept away. Five months after the above entry in the Stationers' Register we meet with the following : 98 ROBERT HERRICK " 29 Ap. 1640. Entred for his Copie under the hands of Master Haiiley, and Master Bourne, warden, The Sever all Poems, written by Master Robert Herrick. vj . d. " The publisher who appUed for this hcence was Andrew Crooke. Of this volume nothing is known ; no copy has been traced, and it is uncertain whether the poems ever passed through the press. Did the poet, whose fastidious taste is expressed in his request to Julia to bum his poems rather than let them go forth unper- fected, stay the printer's hand at the last moment, or did some one else step in and counsel delay ? We can only conjecture. It may well have been with some reluctance that Herrick returned to his remote Devonshire parsonage after this visit to London. Although not yet fifty, he had begun to feel old, and with this sense of aging years, his interest in country activities probably lessened, while his appreciation of the comforts and good-fellowship of the town grew stronger. He is fond of telling us in his poems of his grey hairs and the approach of old age, but the following poem, written in the year 1640-1, reiterates the theme with new earnestness : A wearied pilgrim, I have wandered here Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year ; Long I have lasted in this world, 'tis true. But yet those years that I have lived, but few. Who by his grey hairs doth his lusters tell. Lives not those years, but he that hves them well. One man has reached his sixty years, but he. Of all those threescore, has not lived half three. He lives who hves to virtue ; men who cast Their ends for pleasure, do not live, but last.^ It is possible that, when he made the journey back to Dean Prior, he was not alone. In the verses, entitled No Spouse but a Sister (31), he declares with considerable emphasis that he will spend, his days as a bachelor : 1 On Himself (1088). DEAN PRIOR 99 And never take a wife To crucify my life, — but will keep house with a sister. The promise which he here makes seems to have been kept ; for in the list of burials in the register at Dean Prior mention is made of " Mrs Elizabeth Hearicke," who was buried on April ii, 1643. EUzabeth Herrick was his sister-in- law, and he wrote an epitaph on her death — No. 72 in the Hesperides. She was the wife of his brother William, who died between 1629 — the date of JuUan Herrick's will, in which he is mentioned — and 1632, when his will was proved. She may have come to Hve with her brother-in-law immediately after her husband's death, or, as just indicated, she may have accompanied him there after his visit to London in 1640. The death of his sister-in-law, taking place as it did under his roof and at a time when civil war was raging in the land, must have brought sad and serious thoughts to the poet's mind. It is tempting to think of Herrick as the poet of eternal youthfulness, the maker of love- posies and the braider of garlands, the idle singer of an empty day. And it is probable that had he died in 1635, or even in 1640, such a conception would need little adjustment. But, scattered amid the lighter and gayer fancies of the Hesperides, are a number of poems whidi tell of sorrow, old age, decay of faculties, and approaching death. It is natural to connect these with the closing years of his stay at Dean Prior, though some of them may have been written in transient moods of despon- dency at an earlier period. References to old age and death are found in poems of varied character, but they are most frequent in the verses which he addresses to his mistresses or to himself. The moods in which he faces the inevitable are very varied. Often enough he con- templates death in a half-playful and half-pathetic manner — the pathos being of the lightest — ^as in the fanciful Divination by a Daffodil (107) or the address To Robin Redbreast (50). At other times he is more serious. 100 ROBERT HERRICK as for instance when he writes the poem entitled His Wind- in^sheet (515), or His last Request to Julia (1095). To private bereavement, and the sense of advancing old age, there was added, during these last years at Dean Prior, the anxiety caused by the trend of public affairs, and the consciousness of bemg on the side of the losing party. Herrick was by temperament and associations a Royalist, and though some members of his family sided with the Parliamentary cause, his allegiance to the King remained unshaken. It is not q^uite easy to determine his political tenets from the sentiments expressed in his verses. The great controversy which ended in the Civil War called forth from him a number of gnomic utterances, expressed for the most part in epigrammatic couplets. In some of these he appears as the exponent of extreme monarchical ideas. What, for instance, could be more in keeping with Stuart pretensions than the following ? 'Twixt Kings and subjects there's tliis mighty odds : Subjects are taught by men ; kings, by the gods.' The gods to kings the judgment give to sway ; The subjects' only glory to obey!" On the other hand, the arbitrary conduct of Charles I. in the matter of taxation calls forth from him a mild pro- test in Moderation (780), and a more energetic one in Bad Princes Pill the People (826) : — Like those infernal deities which eat The best of all the sacrificed meat, And leave their servants but the smoke and sweat ; So many kings, and primates too, there are, Who claim the fat and fleshy for their share, And leave their subjects but the starved ware. 1 The Difference between Kings and Subjects (25). 3 Obedience in Subjects (z6g). DEAN PRIOR fot The protest is couched in general terms, but it can hardly be doubted that the reference is to Charles I. and Laud. But though Herrick, Uke many another Royalist, may have chafed under arbitrary taxation, he was absolutely loyal to the King as soon as matters passed out of the bounds of parliamentary controversj^ into those of civil war. Included among the Hesperides are a number of poems which introduce us to that great con- flict. Early in 1642, impending hostiUties forced Charles and Henrietta apart. The latter left England for Holland, where she proceeded to purchase munitions of war for the campaign, while her husband went north- wards to coUect troops. The separation of husband and wife moved Herrick to write his verses To the King and Queen upon their Unhappy Distances (79). Here he is full of hope, and prophesies with gladness of heart a speedy reunion of husband and wife. But as the war proceeded, and the Royalist cause experienced defeat after defeat, his heart sank within him. In his poems, The Bad Season makes the Poet Sad (612) and Upon the Troublous Times (596), he writes in a mood of deep depression, though stiU hoping against hope that things will right themselves and " Charles here rule as he before did reign." O times most bad. Without the scope Of hope Of better to be had ! Where shall I go, Or whither run To shun This public overthrow ? No places are, This I am sure, Secure In this our wasting war. 102 ROBERT HERRICK Some storms we've past. Yet we must all Down fall. And perish at the last. The sentiment of these verses is not very heroic, but the poet's fighting days, if they ever existed, were long since over. In the early stages of the war Devonshire was in the hands of the Parliamentarians, but the victories of Lord Hopton at Stratton in Cornwall, in May 1643, had wrought a great change in the West. Herrick congratulated Hopton on his success,^ and the latter replied in prac- tical fashion by advancing on Devonshire and winning over the greater portion of it to the King's side.* With the summer of 1644, the war approached very near to Herrick's vicarage. Queen Henrietta Maria was at Exeter, and on June 16 gave birth to the Princess Henrietta there. Then, making her way stealthily to the Cornish coast, she embarked on July 14 for France. A fortnight later, Charles himself was at Exeter, while a section of the Parliamentary army, imder Essex, was at Tavistock, still nearer to Dean Prior. Herrick seized the occasion of the King's proximity to address to him a poem, To the King upon his Coming with his Army into the West (77), as loyal in feeling as it is beautiful in expression : Welcome, most welcome, to our vows and us. Most great and universal genius ! The drooping West, which hitherto has stood As one in long-lamented widowhood. Looks like a bride now, or a bed of flowers Newly refreshed both by the sun and showers. War, which before was horrid, now appears Lovely in you, brave prince of cavaliers. A deal of courage in each bosom springs By your access, O you, the best of kings ! Ride on with all white omens ; so that where Your standard's up, we fix a conquest there. 1 See the poem, To the Lord Hopton on his Fight in Cornwall (looz). » See S. R. Gardiner, History of the Great Civil War, i. 162. DEAN PRIOR 103 The hopefulness wfaidi warmed the poet's drooping spirits was, IsjT the time at least, well sustained, and to Giarles the verses of the Royalist vicar must have seemed of fair angary. The two armies met at Lostwithid in Comwafi, at the end of Angnst, and the battle resulted in a complete victory for the King. Eaiiy in the following year, the last of the western campaigns took place. Fairfax, " the rider of the white horse," as the Yorkshire people called him, was be^eg- ing Exeter and making raids up and down the coonty. On January i8th he carried Dartmouth by storm, and a day or two later he was at Totnes, five miles from Dean. While there, he called for a thousand recruits, and three times that number flocked to his standard. Nothing could show more plainly the diange in temper of the people of South Devon towards the two contending parties. " We are come," said Cromwell to the new recruits, "to set yon, if possible, at liberty from your taskmasters," and his word was believed.* This change in temper must have weighted heavily npon the vicar of Dean Prior, and doubtless inspired him to write his peevi^ outbursts upon the " rocky generation, cnrri^ churli^ as the seas," amongst whom he must still continue to Uve. He smnmons up courage to address a spirited poem to Sir John Berkeley,* who was bravd^ holding Exeter against the besi^ers, and hails with glad- ness the arrival of Prince Charles at Exeter in the fol- lowing August : Meanwhile thy prophets watch by watch shall pray. While yomig (Carles fights, and fighting wins vse day : That done, our smooth-foced poems all shall be Sung in the high doxoiogy of thee * But the poet's prevailing mood is best expressed by his poems Upon the Troubhus Times and The Bad Season 1 Gardmer, The Great Civil War, ii, 431. '"To Sir John Berkeley, Gosemor cf Exeter " (745). ' To Prince CharUt upon his Coming to Exeter ^56^. 104 ROBERT HERRICK makes the Poet Sad, already referred to, or by his beauti- ful dirge upon the death of Lord Bernard Stuart, slain at Rowton Heath on September 24, 1646.^ Reduced to inactivity himself, he could but sit gloomily over his hearth with his " familiar Lar," and nurse his wrath to keep it warm ; or, in serener moments, seek to draw com- fort from those Good Thoughts in Bad Times which the genial optimist, Thomas Fuller, had just published at Exeter. The ejection of those clergymen who had refused to subscribe to the Solemn League and Covenant had begun as early as 1643, but Herrick's call did not come yet. For four years after that date he brooded in his vicarage, or took his soUtary walks through the village, where there was neither maypole nor hock-cart to cheer his sight ; and then at last, in 1647, the summons came. Witii an elation of spirits that would have done credit to a schoolboy, he left .his parishioners to the spir- itual ministrations of Mr John Syms, and set out for London, " blest place of my nativity," registering his solemn vow, as he crossed the rocky bed of Dean Bum, that never again would he endure the warty incivility of itself or its people : With whom I did, and may re-soiourn, when Rocks turn to rivers, rivers turn to men. 1 No. zig. CHAPTER V LAST YEARS When Herrick crossed Dean Bum and took the high road to Exeter, his intention seems to have been, not to pro- ceed direct to London, but to pay a visit first of all to his friend Weekes, at Sherwell, near Barnstaple. Weekes, according to Anthony a Wood, " suffered much for the Royal Cause," but it is uncertain whether he was dis- possessed of his Devonshire living at this time.^ He was, at any rate, still in possession when the notice to quit was served upon his friend. The last of Herrick's poems to his peculiar friend John Weekes, written upon his ejection from Dean Prior, is a characteristic effusion of humour, bonhomie, and independence of spirit : Since shed or cottage I have none, I sing the more that thou hast one, To whose glad threshold and free door I may a poet come, though poor. And eat with thee a savoury bit. Paying but common thanks for it. . . ? We do not know how long Herrick stayed with his friend, but the fact that he bore in his wallet the little volume of poems which was to win him his long-coveted immortality, must have made him impatient to reach 1 See Walker, Sufferings of the Clergy, p. 392. > No. 1056. («.489) 105 4 a lo6 ROBERT HERRICK London and secure for his treasure the permanence of print. The joy which was his when at last the metropohs^ was reached is recorded in his memorablfe Return to London (713). The curious tangle of truth and error which goes to make up Wood's account of Herrick in the Athenae furnishes us with the information that during a part of the time which elapsed between 1647 and 1662, the poet was residing in St Anne's Parish, Westminster. John Walker, who, though a Devonian, knew very little about Herrick, says in his Sufferings of the Clergy, that " after his ejectment he returned to London, and, having no fifths paid him, was subsisted by charity until the Restoration." ^ It is Ukely enough that both statements are correct as far as they go. Nothing is more probable than that the ejected vicar should take up his residence in his " beloved Westminster," where, as we have seen, he was living in 1640 ; nor need we take offence at Walker's phrase that " he subsisted by charity," pro- vided that we understand by it simply that, having no income of his own, he was dependent upon the hospitality of relations and friends. It can hardly be that Herrick suffered from poverty during his exile. The presence in London of wealthy relations, including his own brother Nicholas,* and the families of Soame and Stone, with whom he stood, as his poems show, on terms of intimacy, makes such an idea incredible. We learn from what he says in The Plunder (460) that he left Dean Prior bereft of everything, but we can well believe that in 1647, as in 1629, he found among his numerous relations and friends plenty " to bear my charges." It is true that of his old patrons some were dead, and others, including Endymion Porter, in sore straits. But Mildmay Fane, Earl of Westmorland, was 1 Sufferings of the Clergy, p. 263. ' Nicholas Herrick was living in Goodman's Fields, in the parish of St Mary Matfelon, county of Middlesex, where he died, May 23, 1665. See Smith's Obituary (Camden Society) and Miscellanea Genealogica et HeraUica, Second Series, i. 98. LAST YEARS 107 at hand, and busied, like Herrick himself, with the pub- Ucation of his verses.^ Another friend of distinction was Henry Pierrepont, eldest son of Viscount Newark, one of the " foster-fathers " of the poet's verses, who was created Marquess of Dorchester in 1644, and to whom is addressed the Ultimus Heroum (962). Herrick's poetic activity continued right up to the time of pubhcation. When Charles I. came to reside at Hampton Court on August 24, 1647, under the protec- tion of the Parliamentary army, the poet, loyal to his sovereign to the end, welcomed his arrival tiiere with glowing verses which, like the lyrics of earlier days, were set to music and sung in the royal presence. To some of those who listened to the song there must have seemed grim irony in the strains of the chorus : Long live the King ! and, to accomplish this. We'll from our own add far more years to his.^ And now at last the time, long foreseen and long delayed, had arrived when the poet was to secure for his minstrelsy that safe-conduct to fame which he had coveted with no ordinary avidity. His book of poems had, he teUs us, been passing freely from hand to hand in these London days,* and with each meed of praise that was bestowed upon it, the desire to publish must have grown stronger. He found publishers in John WUliams and Francis Eglesfield of St Paul's Churchyard, and the printing of the manuscript began. It seems that his first intention was to publish the Noble Numbers before the Hesperides. In the original edition of 1648 his sacred verses, though they stand last, have a separate title- page, which bears the date 1647, whereas the Hesperides axe dated in the following year. This intention, however, of keeping his best wine until the end of the feast was 1 They appeared under the title, Otia Sacra, in the same year as the Hesperides. " To the King (961). » To his Book (3). io8 ROBERT HERRICK subsequently abandoned, and all subsequent editors have followed the order of the original e(htion. There is some difference of view as to Herrick's share in the ordering of the poems as they stand in the printed volume. It was the opinion of Grosart that " the poet himself had nothing to do with the arrangement or disarrangement " of the poems, and this opinion is shared by some later editors. It rests mainly upon the total disregard of dironological order, and indeed of any other order, in the Hesperides, which makes it impossible, in the case of the majority of the verses, to say when they were written. But it is by no means certain that this disorder was not intentional on the poet's part. It is clear that he exercised some supervision over the printer. He prefixed to the volume a number of corrections of printer's errors, together with the following apology for their occurrence : For these transgressions, which thou here dost see. Condemn the printer, reader, and not me. Who gave them forth good grain, though he mistook The seed ; so sowed these tares throughout my book. Had the printer, in addition to making typographical errors, wantonly disarranged the order of the poems, Herrick, we may readily believe, would have drawn attention to the fact ; nay, more, would he not have seared the miscreant with an epigram, white-hot from the cauldron of his wrath, and enshrined it within the covers of his book ! The disorderliness of the collection is cdso not quite so complete as it seems. We may not go as far as Henry Morley and recognize the poet's " design to use poems as foils and settings to one another," but the same editor is certainly right in drawing attention to the careful opening and close of the book."^ The first eight poems in the Hesperides are clearly introduc- tory. They give the " argument," tell us something of the manner of composition and of the poet's misgivings as to publication ; they indicate " when he would have 1 Introduction to Hesperides in Motley's Universal Library. LAST YEARS 109 his verses read," and include an admonition " to the sour reader." In like manner, the last seven poems are an obvious farewell, in which he reiterates his hopes of poetic immortality, dismisses his Ariel from his service, and commits his poems to the safe keeping of kindly spirits — or the fire : Go thou forth, my book ; though late Yet be timely fortunate. It may chance good luck may send Thee a kinsman, or a friend. That may harbour thee, when I With my fates neglected lie. If thou know'st not where to dwell. See, the fire's by : farewell .' It must also be borne in mind that, in placing side by side a lyric of exquisite beauty and a coarse epigram, Herrick had, in some measure, the high warrant of his friend and master, Ben Jonson. In that poet's Under- woods we find a love song of great beauty, and almost immediately before it an " Epigram to the Smallpox." A similar disorder also appears in the Carmina of Catullus, which were also among the most prized possessions of Herrick. In the absence, therefore, of all proof to the contrary, it is natural to assume that the arrangement of the Hesperides was in accordance with the poet's wishes. Another theory advanced by Dr Grosart is that " the verse celebrations addressed to friends and eminent contemporaries were evidently designed to form a separate work." ^ The matter is not one of importance, seeing that such a work, if it ever existed in manuscript, was never published. The theory has been carefully examined by Dr E. E. Hale in his dissertation. Die chronologische Anordnung der Dichtungen Robert Herricks, and with his refutation of it I am disposed to agree. The volume was dedicated to the " most illustrious 1 To his Book (1125). 2 Grosart, Memorial Introduction to Hesperides, p. oxiv. , no ROBERT HERRICK and most hopeful Prince, Charles, Prince of Wales," who is addressed in verses which f uUy come up to the standard of adulation which the occasion, and the age, demanded. Eighteen years before he had sung the birth of the prince, and in 1645 he had welcomed him with a psean of exultation on his coming to Exeter. The title-page deserves more careful consideration. It reads as follows : " Hesperides : or the Works, both Humane and Divine, of Robert Herrick, Esq." There are here three points to notice. First, the title Hesperides, including as it does the " humane and divine " poems, is clearly meant to be a general title, covering both the Hesperides proper and the Nohle Numbers. In the second place, the addi- tion of the word " esquire " to Herrick's name suggests that on his ejection from Dean Prior he had assumed lajonan's dress, and as a layman desired to appear before the public. Again, the beautiful title, Hesperides, is significant. It can hardly be doubted that in adopting it, he intended his readers to understand that it was as " children of the West Country " that he wished his poems to be regarded. Some of them, as we know, were written elsewhere ; but the title, read in the light of what he tells us in his poem, To his Muse {2) makes it probable that the majority of them belong to the Dean Prior period. The design of the frontispiece, with the bust of the poet on a pedestal, was the work of the engraver WilUam Marshall, who had, earlier in his career, engraved por- traits of Bacon, Donne, and Milton. This, our only portrait of Herrick, is worse than nothing at all, for it can be little better than a caricature. We may, perhaps, accept the lustrous eye, the thick, tight curls, and the curious beak-like nose which calls to mind the busts of the Emperor Vespasian ; but the fat stolidity of the rest of the face, together with the grotesque neck, leave us incredulous, or indignant. It is to be feared that the reception accorded to Her- rick's volume of poems by the reading public fell far short LAST YEARS iii of his hopes and expectations. Thomas Hunt of Exeter may have quickly disposed of his copies of the work among the poet's friends and admirers in Devonshire, but it is doubtful whether the same can be said of the London firm of publishers. No second edition appeared until more than a hundred and fifty years afterwards. The immortality of fame which the poet had promised himself and those in whose honour he indited his verses must have seemed' to him a delusive will-o'-the-wisp. That immortality is now at last assured, but it is doubtful whether even Herrick, with all his buoyancy and assur- ance of poetic power, could have strained his gaze as far forward as the nineteenth century, which redeemed him from obUvion and set him amongst his peers. It is to be feared that to the sadness which must have fallen on Herrick in the long years of Puritan rule, there was added the sense of failure in the hopes which had been so long and so fervently cherished. The small esteem which was set upon the poems at the time of their appear- ance has been attributed to the untowardness of the times. "Herrick," says Mr Edmund Gosse, "brought out the Hesperides a few months before the King was beheaded, and people were invited to Hsten to little madrigals upon Julia's stomacher at the singularly in- opportune moment when the eyes of the whole nation were bent on the unprecedented phenomenon of the proclamation of an English republic." ^ It would be idle to deny that there is truth in Mr Gosse's words, yet it is doubtful whether the year 1648 was more inoppor- tune for the publication of a volume of poems than the years which immediately preceded or those which im- mediately followed it. In this connection, too, it must be borne in mind that, within the years 1645-51, a large amount of poetry passed through the press, some of it being received with an appreciation which was not greatly lessened by the troubled state of national affairs. In 1645, the year of Naseby and Rowton Heath, appeared ' Seventeenth-Century Studies, p. 115. 112 ROBERT HERRICK the poems of Milton and Waller — the former received with comparative silence, the latter with rapturous applause. In 1646 Crashaw's Steps to the Temple was published, and both Vaughan and Shirley saw through the press a volume of poems. In 1647 Abraham Cowley added to his already over-topping reputation by the publication of the Mistress. The year 1648 belongs almost exclusively to Herrick among poets of note, but the following year brought to light the epodes, odes, sonnets, and songs which Lovelace linked to the name of Lucasta, and Thomas Stanley's volume of Translations from Latin lyrists. In 1650 Vaughan published the first part of Silex Scintillans, and in 1651 appeared Davenant's Gondibert, Vaughan's Olor Iscanus, the original poems of Stanley, and tiie collected works — poems and plays — of William Cartwright. In the face of evidence such as this, the reasons for the neglect of Herrick, in his own and succeeding genera- tions, must be sought, in part at least, elsewhere. They are to be found in the fact that for his most delicate and imperishable things the age was out of tune. When the wit of Cowley and Waller was in the ascendant, the imagination of Herrick was at its nadir. To the con- temporaries of Samuel Pepys, the fairy-poems, the de- scriptions^of May-poles, hock-carts, wassEols, wakes, and lyrics like " The Mad Maid's Song " or " Corinna's going a-Maying," must have seemed, like the Midsummer Night's Dream, insipid and ridiculous. With the publication of the Hesperides in 1648, Her- rick's work as a poet was practically over. The only known poem of his which belongs to a later date is The New Charon,^ written on the death of the young Lord Hastings in 1649 ; hke other lyrics of happier days it was set to music by the friend of Herrick and Milton, Mr Henry Lawes. The poem is in eclogue form, the speakers being Charon and Eucosmia ; the latter was the daughter of Sir Theodore Mayeme, the. physician, to whom 1 Pollard, ii. 270. LAST YEARS 113 Hastings was betrothed. It is not without delicate fancy, but the fact that the general idea of the poem is drawn from the earlier Charon and Philomel (730) is a sign of the author's waning power. Perhaps the chief interest in it is its inclusion in the volume of memorial verses, entitled Lachrymae Musaruni, alongside of similar poems by Denham, Marvell, Dryden, and others. So placed, it associates Herrick with the master-poet of the Restora- tion in the same way that the verses, entitled His Mistress' Shade, pubUshed in 1640, had associated him with Shake- speare. Of Herrick's life under the Commonwealth and Pro- tectorate we know absolutely nothing. We may surmise that it was spent chiefly in London in the society of his relations, friends, and other " outed " clergymen : a visit to his sister, Mercy Wingfield, and her family at Brantham in Suffolk was also doubtless paid. There must have been some small excitement for him in 1651, when his cousin, Richard Herrick, third son of Sir WUliam, and Warden of the CoUegiate Church of Man- chester, was imprisoned in the Tower on a charge of high treason. There is no evidence of friendship be- tween the poet and any of Sir William's sons since the time when the eldest of them, William, then an Oxford student, had proposed to pay a visit to Cambridge and lodge with Robert at the time of the royal visitation of 1615. Political sympathies had forced the cousins farther apart, for the family of Sir William had sided with the ParUament and shown strong Puritan leanings. Richard Herrick had, like his cousin, entered the Church, and in 1635 had been appointed to the important and lucrative post of Warden of the Collegiate Church of Manchester. He took an active part in the struggle of the succeeding years, published in 1641 three sermons in duodecimo, and dedicated them to the House of Commons. Amid the checkered fortunes of the CivU War, Richard Herrick, endowed as he -was with some of his father's qualities for achieving material success, managed to hold his own ; 114 ROBERT HERRICK but in 1651 he was imprudent enough to join a party of discontented Presbyterians in what was known as the London Conspiracy, with the intention of over- throwing the republican form of government. On June II, 165 1, he was thrown into the Tower, and remained there in close custody for several months. On October 4, however, an order for his discharge was signed, and he was bound over to keep the peace on a bond of £400 and two sureties of £200 each, " if he can procure them." ^ The restoration of Charles II. to the throne of his fathers could have been desired by no one more heartily than the poet who had simg his birth and dedicated to him his most prized possession. He witnessed, we may be sure, the King's triumphal entry into London on May 29, 1660, and his coronation in Westminster Abbey eleven months later. We may well believe, too, that old as he now was — he was in his seventieth year when Charles was crowned — he looked to the King for promotion and for putting an end to the long period of inactivity, during which he had been dependent on others for the means of subsistence. Even before the King returned from his " travels," Samuel Pepys makes the following entry in his Diary : " May 21, 1660. At Court I find that aU things grow high. The old clergy talk as being sure of their lands again, and laugh at the Presbytery ; and it is beheved that the sales of the King's and Bishops' lands will never be confirmed by Parliament, there being nothing now in any man's power to hinder them and the King from doing what they had a mind, but everybody wiling to submit to anything." But the restoration of the ejected clergymen to their Uvings did not proceed with the rapidity which was expected. UntU the passing of the Act of Uni- formity, most of the Presbyterian ministers, including John Syms of Dean Prior, were safe. On May 31, 1662, we meet with ctnother significant entry in Pepys' Diary : 1 See Calendar of State Papers, 1651, pp. 247, 401, 457, 465, 466 ; also Grosart's Metnorial Introduction, p. cclxxx., and Dictionary 0/ National Biography. LAST YEARS 115 " The Act for Uniformity is lately printed, which, it is thought, will make mad work among the Presbyterian ministers. People of all sides are very much discon- tented ; some thinking themselves used, contrary to promise, too hardly ; and the other that they are not rewarded so much as they expected by the King." It would be pleasant to gain some inkling of Herrick's feelings at this time of clerical expectation. Did he hope for promotion to some prebend's stall such as his friend Weekes had enjoyed at Bristol under Charles I., or did he desire a living which would have allowed him to spend the remaining years of his life in the " blest place of his nativity " ? If such were his hopes, they met with dis- appointment. He was not passed over, but restored to the old living in " dull Devonshire," which he had promised to revisit only when Rocks turn to rivers, rivers turn to men. John Syms, the Presbyterian, refused to subscribe to the. Act of Uniformity, even as his pi;edecessor had refused the Solemn League and Covenant. He was ejected on August 24, and then the parishioners of Dean Prior prepared to welcome back to their midst their former vicar. The home-coming of Herrick to Dean Prior in 1662 is a subject worth,y of the painter's canvas. Arriving as he did in the autumn of the year, when the hock-cart was bringing in the last sheaves of the harvest, his return must have seemed to many a simple soul in the parish like the return — the re-incarnation — of some genial woodland divinity who, after long years of absence, had come back to dwell amongst them once more, to restore to them their wakes and may-poles, and to " wassail " their apple-trees against the ravages of the foul fiend. Flibbertigibbet. Tliey had turned from him and reviled him in the dark days of the forties, and he had retorted with stinging epigrams ; but when he had left them, with the solemn vow never to return, they thought of the Ii6 ROBERT HERRICK part which he had played in the rustic festivals that were now taken from them ; and when they lay awake in bed, they remembered how he had taught them to repeat his Litany to the Holy Spirit until slimiber overtook them. And now at last he had come back again in spite of his vow, and all was to be as before. There were to be Christmas mummings again, and the burning of brands on Candlemas day ; charms might once more be pro- noimced at bread-making, and " the hag that rides the mare " be scared away at the sight of the hooks and shears suspended in the stables ; above all, there was to be a blessed restoration of cakes and ale, and of " ginger hot i' the mouth." We can imagine the smile of amusement that played on the faces of priest and parishioners, as the former crossed the waters of the once execrated Dean Bum and entered the village. But it was not a " rocky generation " which conducted the vicar along the half- mile of Devonshire lanes which led to, the church and the vicarage, where the faithful Prudence Baldwin, rein- stated like her master, was waiting to receive him. On both sides there was something to forget, but also much to remember that was tender and true. For twelve years he remained amongst his people, and then, in the October of the year 1674, a few months after John Milton, he passed away. No tombstone re- mains to mark the spot where he hes in the little church- yard that fronts the moor, but in the parish register we meet with the following entry : Robert Herrick, Vicker, was buried y« 15* day of October, 1674. Four years later, in the same register, another entry stands : Prue Balden [i.e. Baldwin] was buried y' 6"" day of January, 1678. PART II THE WORKS 117 CHAPTER I THE LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE To appreciate aright the qualities of the Hesperides, it is necessary first of all to determine the relation in which those poems stand to contemporary poetry and to the poetry of the preceding age. Herrick, though much of his Ufe was lived in seclusion, never outgrew the influences which moulded his youth ; from first to last his poetry bears upon it the impress of the late Jacobean and early Caroline age. Ben Jonson, aUve or dead, was still his master, and no poet paid the dues of discipleship more loyally. Again, the relation of Herrick to Jonson and other seventeenth-century lyrists opens up a larger field of inquiry. In what position, we ask, does this Jacobean and Carohne lyric stand to the Elizabethan ? Are the verses of Carew, Herrick, and Suckling in the direct line of succession from that great outburst of Ehzabethan song, the preluding strains of which are heard in the lyrics of Wyatt and Surrey ? And if so, what differences of form and temper can be observed as we pass from the sixteenth to the seventeenth century ? In reply to questions such as these, it may at once be said that there is a general tendency to regard Enghsh lyric poetry from the begiiming of Elizabeth's reign onwards to the Res- toration as possessed of a certain imity. It is the lyric of the English Renaissance, cind as such, it falls into hne with the drama of the Renaissance, the evolution of which fedls, roughly speaking, within the same period. If the spirit of the Renaissance is breathed into the sonnets of us 120 ROBERT HERRICK Sidney or Spenser, so is it also into the songs of Milton's Comus and Arcades. But if there is general agreement as to the period over which this Renaissance lyric extends, there is the widest divergence of opinion as to the relationship which the lyric poetry of the seventeenth century bears to that of the sixteenth. On the one hand, we are told that the Jacobean and Caroline Ij^ric shows the gradual dying away of the splendid harmonies of Elizabethan song; on the other, that this later l5nric, so far from exhibiting signs of decay, marks the triumphant consummation of all that has gone before. The former view is that taken by certain distinguished American students of our lyric poetry. Thus Professor Schelling assures us that, when we reach the days of the Stuart kings, " the golden summer of the Enghsh lyric is on the wane ; " ^ while Professor Barrett Wendell, tracing the changes in the temper of the English people during the seventeenth century, bids us see the process of disintegration at work in the CaroUne lyric as surely as in the Caroline drama. ^ The opposite view is held by the most distinguished master of lyric poetry in our own generation, Mr Swin- burne. " It is singular," he writes, " that the first great age of English lyric poetry should have been also the one great age of EngUsh dramatic poetry : but it is hardly less singular that the lyric school should have advanced as steadily as the dramatic school declined from the promise of its dawn. Bom with Marlowe, the drama rose at once with Shakespeare to heights inaccessible before and since and for ever, to sink through bright gradations of glorious decline to its final and beautiful sunset in Shirley : but the lyrical record that begins with the author of Euphues and Endymion grows fuller if not brighter through a whole chain of constellations till it culminates in the crowning star of Herrick." ' 1 A Book of Elizabethan Lyrics, p. xxxiii. " The Seventeenth Century in English Literature. ' Preface to Heitick's Poems (Muses' Library edition). LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 121 The contemporaneous expression of views so divergent as these calls for a close examination of the lyric of the EngUsh Renaissance, and a judicious weighing of the evidence for and against the theory of decadence. In making such an examination, it will be convenient to ignore for the time being the work of Herrick himself ; the relation which his poems bear to the general poetic tendencies of the age will be the theme of a subsequent chapter. During the first thirty years of EUzabeth's reign the ! form of lyric most in vogue was the popular song. This was an heirloom of the fast vanishing Middle Ages, and it is no easy matter to discover whence it came. In its dancing rhythm, in its artlessness and spontaneity, in its fondness for a refrain and for repetitions, some of which take the form of meaningless interjections like " Hey, nonny, nonny ! " it recalls, in no uncertain way, the communal folk-song of a primitive age. But with ; this element of folk-song are mingled strains of a less j remote ancestry. Among these we may discover the convivial drinking-songs of medieval scholares vagantes, : with Walter Map as tiieir Coryphaeus ; also Christmas carols of Norman origin, acclaiming with joyous cries of Noel ! Noel ! the birth of the infant Christ, or, in lighter i mood, welcoming the entrance into the baronial hall of the festive boar's head of Yuletide : Caput apri refero Resonans laudes domino. With these, too, are mingled the religious and didactic songs, and the semi-religious lullabies, which sprang to ; life under the shadow of church and minster, and which had withstood the Reformation ; likewise, the popular '• love-songs of medieval minstrelsy, the pedlar-songs and hunting-songs ; and, finally, all the store of lyric mirth which ushered in, and gave a ceremonial character to, ' the great festivals of May-day, Harvest-Home and 1 Christmas. 122 ROBERT HERRICK Until the influence of the Italian Renaissance was felt in England, this popvilar song was truly national in character ; its strains were heard at the monarch's court as well as in the market-place or the furrow. In Wynkyn de Worde's Song-Book,^ pubUshed in 1530, and intended to serve the needs of Henry VIII. ■ and his courtiers, appear such popular songs as " Mynyon, go trym," " We Maydins berth the bell-a," and " Beware my l3^yl fynger." Nearly half a century later, too, when Queen Elizabeth was at Kenilworth, we find that Leicester summoned to his aid the versatile " Captain Cox," a mason of Coventry, who, among other forms of enter- tainment, produced " a bunch of ballets and songs, all ancient," with which to delight the queen's ears ; and included amongst these we find " Bonny lass upon a green," " By a bank as I lay," " Over a whinny, Meg," and other songs of a distinctly popular character. * A few years later, however, the popular song in Eng- land received a blow from which it has never entirely recovered. In 1588, Nicholas Yonge published his Musica Transalpina, a collection of madrigals and can- zonets, translated from such Italian authors as Petrarch and Ariosto, and set to music by Orlando di Lasso, Alfonzo Ferrabosco, and other Italian musicians of the period. Now the madrigal, with its contrapuntal music, its single strophe, its Italian grace and Petrarchan sentiment, was directly opposed to the homely words and simple recurring melody, with attendant refrain, of the popular song ; and, at a time when everjrthing Italian was welcomed with open arms by English courtiers, it is easy to see that, in the conflict which arose between the two classes of song-l5aic, the madrigal must win the victory. The FitzwiUiam Virginal Book shows that one or two of the early madrigahsts, hke Wilham Byrd and Thomas Morley, were still ready to supply musical set- 1 Edited by R. Imelmann (Shakespeare Jahrbuch, xxxiz., p. 121). 'Captain Cox, his Ballads and Books, ed. F. J. FumivaU (Ballad Society Publications), 1871. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 123 tings to such a popular song as, " The Carman's Whistle," but their main energies were directed towards the furtherance of the Itcdian song-ljn:ic. Between twenty and thirty collections of madrigals and canzonets were published in England between 1588 and the close of the century, and in the production of these the leading English composers of the time, Morley, Weelkes, Wilbye, Farmer, and others, were directly engaged. The literary quality of these madrigals is "for the most part poor ; and only in a smaU number of instances do we know who wrote the words, which throughout, and contrary to the practice in the popular song, are sub- servient to the music. A recent historian of English music, Mr E. Walker, speaking of the old madrigal books, says : " The words are printed in so casual and incom- plete a fashion as to suggest that even when they were sung, the singer was allowed a very free hand." ^ A few of the madrigals and canzonets have a strain of homehness in them, and touch on popular themes almost after the manner of the folk-song. Such is the case, for instance, with the twentieth canzonet in Thomas Morley's collection bf 1593, in which a rustic wedding is presented in the following idyllic manner : List, hark yon Minstrells, how fine they firck it. And how the maids irck it. With Kate and Will, Tom and Gill. Now a skip. Then a trip. Finely fat aloft, Ther againe as oft. AU for Daphnes wedding day ! Hey ho, fine brave holiday ! * But for the most part they are artificial, and foreign, both in sentiment and expression, to the genius of 1 History of Music in England, 1907, p. 60. 2 Bolle, Die gedruckten englischen Liederbiicher (Palaestra, vol. xxix., p. 65). 124 ROBERT HERRICK ] English folk-song. The prevailing theme is love, which I is treated in the conventional fashion famUiar to us in most of the sonnet-sequences of the same period, and the mood of the poet-lover is one of wistful melancholy. An air of unreality pervades the madrigals, and only very occasionally do they attain the unstudied grace and golden cadence of the best Miscellany-lyrics, or of the Airs which were destined to replace them after the turn of the century. The following madrigal, taken from John Wilbye's collection, pubhshed in 1598, is typical of the general style and average attainment of this form of lyric. From a musical standpoint Wilbye's work ranks very high : — Alas, what a wretched life is this ! Nay, what a death, where tyrant Love commandeth. My flowering days are in their prime declining. All my proud hopes quite fallen, and life untwining. My joys, each after other, in haste are flying. And leave me dying For her that scorns my crying. she from hence departs, my love refraining. From whom, all heartless, alas, I die complaining. * The swift descent of the popular song from the banquet- ing-hall to the ale-house, as soon as tJie Italian song-lyric gained a footing in the land, is clearly indicated by George Puttenham. In his Arte of English Poesie, pubhshed only one year after the appearance of Yonge's Musica Transalpina, he speaks of the popular song in the following contemptuous manner : " Tlie over busie and too speedy retume of one maner of tune [doth] too much annoy and as it were glut the eare, unlesse it be in small and popular Musickes, song by these Cantabanqui upon benches and barrels heads, where they have none other audience then boys or countrey fellowes that passe by them in the streete ; . . . also they be used in Carols and rounds and such light or lascivious Poemes, which are commonly more commodiously uttered by 1 A. H. Bullen, Some Shorter Elizabethan Lyrics, 1903, p. 150. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 125 these buffons or vices in playes then by any other person." ^ Puttenham's reference to the " buffons or vices in playes " brings us in the next place to consider the lyrics scattered, often with lavish hand, through the dramas of the Ehzabethan stage. Lyric poetry, in the form of the popular song, had found a place already in the Mystery and Morality plays of the medieval period ; and when, early in Elizabeth's reign, we reach the be- ginnings of true comedy in England, we find that the value of the lyric as furnishing relief from the dramatic tension is fully recognised. Songs are frequent in Ralph Roister Doister and Gammer Gurton's Needle, and it would be hard to find lyrics which cleave more closely to the popular tradition than " I mun be maried a Sunday," of the former, or " Backe and syde go bare, go bare," of the latter. Lyly in his Court Comedies replaced the folk-songs by lyrics of a more cultured and artificial nature, but most of the dramas written for the public stage remain, until the close of the century, true to the artless speech and simple melodies of the popular song. Nothing, indeed, indicates the essentially popular character of the Ehzabethan drama of this period more faithfuUy than the tenacity with which it clung to this form of lyric, at a time when madrigal, canzonet and ballet were in the noontide of their power. And of all the dramatists of the time Shakespeare remained through- out his career the most loyal to the native tradition. In his early venture. Love's Labour's Lost, he introduces art- lyrics, in the form of sonnets, side by side with such a simple song as " When daisies pied and violets blue ; " but the experiment is not repeated, and in his later dramas he keeps very close to the popular melodies. Shakespeare, too, is the only dramatist of the time who attempted to do for the folk-songs of England what Bums did, on a far larger scale, for the folk-songs of Scotland, that is, remodel them and endue them with 1 Ed. Arber, p. 96. 126 ROBERT HERRICK new life. We know for a certainty that he did this in the case of Desdemona's willow-song, and it is probable that the same remodelling has taken place in the case of the jester's song at the end of Twelfth Night. And even where his songs are obviously new creations, and where they admit neither of refrain nor of recurring phrases, they still possess the simplicity of manner and the tunefulness of the folk-song. When we turn from the lyric which was written to be sung, to the lyric which was written to be read, we are at once confronted with the sonnet-sequences and the lyrics of the Miscellanies. The vogue of the sonnet in Elizabethan England synchronizes almost exactly with that of the madrigal. Introduced into our Uterature by Wyatt and Surrey, it made little progress until the last decade of the century ; then, after the pubUcation of Sidney's Astrophel and Stella in 1591, it claimed the services of almost aU the poets of the day, and, in spite of occasional protests, enjoyed an extraordinary vogue right up to the close of the century. It is unnecessary, after all that has been written about the Renaissance sonnet, to dweU long upon it here. In England, as in Italy and France, it is an essentially romantic and idealistic form of Ij^ric. Of Provengal origin, it retains from first to last the spirit of medieval chivalry, the spirit of worship and service. To render the homage of pure adoration to her whose beauty has him in thrall, and to serve her with a loyalty which asks for no reward, is the paramount quest of the sonneteer from Dante to Spenser. With tins spirit of medieval chivalry had mingled, from the time of Petrarch onwards, the ethereal aura of Platonic ideaUsm, imparting to the lyric love a mystic rapture, and removing it yet further from sensuous passion and the touch of reality. In virginal purity, innate nobility, and soaring exaltation, there is no love lyric in the world which equals the best of the Renais- sance sonnets. Yet it was this very idealism, and this aloofness from the world of sense, which, when the LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 127 sonnet became the fashion of the hour, brought about its fall. It was easy for a Galahad soul like that of Edmimd Spenser to scale the heights of chivalrous ideaUsm, and to join with Plato in mystic communion with that Aphrodite Urania, who is heavenly borne and cannot die. Being a parcell of the purest skie. But sonneteers of less ethereal temper, striving to soar with Petrarch or Spenser, and feigning a love which they did not feel, were only too often carried away, " ten thousand leagues awry," into the arid regions of false sentiment and rhetoric. The edicts of fashion made sonnet-writing a literary convention, and then the prostrate humility and despairing sighs of the poet-lover strike us chill, and we lose all sense of the individuality of himself and of the mistress whom he celebrates. From the first, the artificiality of the sonnet had been discerned and censured. Sir PhiUp Sidney, who set the fashion in England, and whose sonnets have more of the sense of reality in them than most of those which followed, was, curiously enough, the first to point out its unreality. Speaking in his Apologie of " that LyricaU kind of Songs and Sonnets," he says : " But truely many of such writ- ings, as come under the banner of unresistable love, if I were a Mistres, would never perswade mee they were in love ; so coldely they apply fiery speeches, as men that had rather red Lovers writings, and so caught up cer- taine swelling phrases, which hang together, like a man which once told mee, the winde was at North West and by South, because he would be sure to name windes enowe, — ^than that in truth they feele those passions : which easily (as I think) may, be bewrayed by that same forcibleness or Energia (as the Greekes cal it) of the writer." ^ A few years later we find the witty yoimg Templar, Sir John Davies, subjecting the practice of I Apologie, ed, Shuckburgh, p. 57. 128 ROBERT HERRICK sonneteering to wholesome parody in his Gulling Sonnets ; and when the end of the century is reached, we see how the fashion is passing swiftly away. The lyrics of the Elizabethan misceUanies lack the definiteness of form, or even of theme, found in the lyrics of the madrigal-books and the sonnet cycles. They • are anthologies, formed by enterprising publishers at a time when poets set httle store by the fortunes of their writings, and gathered from the romances, the sonnet- sequences, the song-books, and from whatever manu- script collections were accessible. There is, accordingly, ! great variety in the character and quality of these , miscellany-lyrics, and in such a collection as England's I Helicon {1600), we come upon many of the choicest ; flowers of Elizabethan lyric poetry. Dehghtfully simple J and spontaneous, too, as many of these 150105 are, they are in the main art-lyrics, and have little in common with 1 the folk-song. The miscellanies were compiled for cul- tured and courtly circles of readers, and it is worthy of note that, while the compilers often cast their net very wide, they set no store by the matchless song-ljoics of the dramas which follow the tradition of the popular melodies. Thus the anthology, entitled The Passionate Pilgrim, which the pirate publisher, WiUiam Jaggard, compiled in 1599, and fathered upon Shakespeare, contains the three sonnets of Love's Labour's Lost, but none of the snatches of song scattered through that and through Shakespeare's other eatly comedies. The ban of vulgarity which rested upon the autochthonous song-lyric during the closing years of the sixteenth century was not to be Kfted by publishers, eager at all costs to fall in with the prevalUng fashions. But if these lyrics of the miscellanies are a little artificial as compared with the wood-notes wild of Shakespeare and Dekker, they seem artlessness itself when set by the side of most of the sonnet-sequences and most of the collections of madri- gals. In buoyancy and verbal melody, in the absence of intellectual strain and the perfect subjugation of thought LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 129 to feeling, the best l5nics of Marlowe, Breton, and Lodge have never been surpassed. These lyrics are less dominated by foreign literary influences than the sonnet and the madrigal ; yet, as we read them, we feel the presence of the Italy of the Re- naissance. This manifests itself in the glow of romantic idealism with which they are suffused, in the pleasant garb of pastoraHsm which they assume, and in a certain iimocent hedonism, which seems a Httle foreign to our sober English temper- even in the heyday of the Renais- sance. Varied in character as these lyrics are, the quaUty which is common to almost all of them is that of youthfulness. We have here the lyric of a nation in the first glory of adolescence, whose movements have an indefinable rhythmic grace, and whose outlook upon the world is untroubled by care or misgiving. It is a lyric which recreates for us the golden age long dreamed of by the poets of antiquity. Come live with me and be my love. And we -will aE the pleasures prove. That valleys, groves, hills and fields. Woods, or steepy mountains, yields. Thus sings Christopher Marlowe in the exuberance of youthful ardour, and the strain is taken up by a whole chorus of poets, who sing because they must. It is indicative of this quahty of youthfulness in the l3nics of the misceUanies that the note of intensity is rarely heard in them. Occupied as they are with the all-absorbing theme of love, we look in vain for the poignancy and passion which appear, a few years later, in the lyrics of Dorme. The Ij^ric love is the creation of the poetic imagination, which never comes into touch with the hard facts of Ufe, and finds utterance only in the golden world of Arcadian fancy. The proffered love may not find acceptance, but denial brings with it no sense of disUlusioiunent, nor does the youSiful idealism which inspires the lyrics to Phillida or Amaryllis ever (2,488) 5 130 ROBERT HERRICK stoop to mere gallantry. And with this lack of intensity goes also a lack of self -revelation. The poems of the miscellanies are lyrical by virtue of their tunefulness rather than by their power of disclosing the inmost recesses of the poet's soul. Seventeenth century lyrists, like Crashaw, Vaughan, Suckling, or Herrick, whether their poetry be intense or not, stand revealed to us in what they write, but how little information do we gather as to the per- sonality of Breton, Lodge, or Bamfield from their snatches of song scattered through the miscellanies ! We have now briefly reviewed the leading forms of l5aic poetry in England during the reign of Elizabeth, and have marked the decline of the popular song, with its simple melody and homely realism, and the rise of the art-lyric in the form of madrigal, sonnet, and miscellany lyric. In noticing these changes, we have seen how England has come under the influence of Italy, and have witnessed the triumph of a love lyric, somewhat diffuse in expression, fraught with pastoral fancies, essentially romantic and visionary, and, in its attitude towards womanhood, wholly loyal to the ideals of chivalry and the teaching of Plato. It remains to be seen what changes took place in the form and temper of English lyric poetry after the death of EUzabeth, and to what extent the influence of Renaissance Italy became subject to modi- fication. Even the most casual student of the social history and the literature of England must be aware that a change in the temper of the nation can be discerned soon after the death of EUzabeth. We recognize a certain coarsening in the fibre of the race, and a certain loss of national solidarity. This is not the place to analyse this change of temper, nor even, following the quaint methods of the author of The Anatomy of Melancholy, to lay our finger on its prognostics, symptoms, and causes. But may not much of the inner meaning of the change be summed up in the philosophy of Feste, the fool : " Youth's a stuff will not endure " ? Youthfulness is the prime LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 131 characteristic not only of the lyric poetry, but of Eliza- bethan literature as a whole. It is the secret of the visionary power of that literature, and of that desire to reach beyond 6ne's grasp, which finds characteristic expression in the dramas of Christopher Marlowe. When the seventeenth century opened, the Renaissance move- ment had still far to run ; in some directions, indeed, the power of the ancient world over life and Uterature was only just beginning to be felt : but none the less we are aware that a conscious sobering of the national temper has taken place, and that the heyday of youth is over. It is only natural that this change should manifest itself first of all in lyric poetry, for of all forms of literature the lyric is that which furnishes the most perfect mirror of even the most evanescent changes which come over a nation's thoughts and emotions. In lyric poetry we discern a change even before the end of the sixteenth century is readied. Already in the sonnets of Shake- speare we are aware that the power of ideahsm over poetry is on the wane ; for his love sonnets are not like those of Spenser, nor even like those of Sidney. The wind of reaUsm sweeps across them, and brings with it disillusionment and scepticism as to the worth and dignity of womanhood. The " dark lady " of Sonnets cxxvii.-clii. is no Madonna Laura, but a " woman colour'd ill." The poet loves her with a feverish, tem- pestuous love, which brings perjury of soul with it, and the betrayal of his " nobler part " to his " gross body's treason " : My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease ; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept. Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. 132 ROBERT HERRICK Past cure I am, now reason is past care. And frantic-mad with evermore unrest ; My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are, At random from the truth vainly express' d ; For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. As we read these burning lines, we feel that we have travelled very far from the pallid romanticism of Daniel's Delia or Drayton's Idea, or from the mystic idealism of Spenser's Amoreiti. At the very time, too, that Shake- speare was writing these love sonnets, a younger poet, standing apart from the main body of Elizabethan men of letters, and content to lead a life of intellectual isolation, was deliberately making war upon both the temper and the form of the Elizabethan lyric. Accord- ing to Ben Jonson, Donne wrote " all his best pieces before he was twenty-five," that is, before 1598 ; and this state- ment has been accepted as substantially correct by Donne's biographer, Mr Edmund Gosse, and his latest editor, Mr E. K. Chambers. By his " best pieces," Jonson probably means the so-called " Songs and Sonnets," concerning which Mr Chambers writes as follows : "All Donne's love-poems — and the majority of the ' Songs and Sonnets ' are concerned with love — seem to me to fall into two divisions. There is one, marked by cynicism, ethical laxity, and a somewhat deliberate profession of inconstancy. This I believe to be his earhest style, and ascribe the poems marked by it to the period before 1596. About that date he became acquainted with Anne More, whom he evidently loved devotedly and sincerely ever after. And therefore, from 1596 onwards, I place the second division, with its emphasis of the spiritual, and deep insight into the real things of love." 1 It is with the poems of the first division that we are concerned at present, for it is in these that we chiefly see the warfare which he waged with the cherished ideals ' Poems of John Donne, vol. i. p. zao. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 133 of the Petrarchan sdiool of lyrists. In the poem. Love's Growth, he stubbornly refuses to rest c»ntent with the contemplative love of those sonneteers who wrote passionate centuries of love to an imagiaaiy mistress: Love's not so pore and abstract as they use To say, which have no mistress but their muse ; But as all else, bdng elemented too. Love sometimes would contemplate, sometimes do ; * and in his Love's Alchemy he avows the profonndest scepticism of that hidden mystery of love, first adum- brated by Plato : Some that have deeper digg'd love's mine than I, Say, where his centnc happiness doth he. I have loved, and got, and told. But should I love, get, tell, till I were old, I should not find that hidden nqrstery. O ! 'tis impostore all ; And as no chemic vet th' elixir got. But ^oiifies his pregnant pot. If by the way to him befaU Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal. So lovers dream a ridi and long deUght, But get a winter-seeming summer's night. Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day. Shall we for this vain bubble's shadow pay ? Ends love in this, that my man Can be as happy as I can, if he can Endure the ^lort scorn of a brid^room's play ? That loving wretch that swears 'Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds. Which he in her angelic finds. Would swear as justly, that he hears In that day's rude, hoarse minstrelsy the spheres. Hope not for mind in women ; at their best Sweetness and wit they are ; but mummy, possess' d.' 1 Poems, ed. Chambeis, i. p. 34. ss/Wi., i-p. 41- 134 ROBERT HERRICK If love is without spiritual mystery, woman is without constancy : If thou be'st bom to strange sights, Things invisible to see. Ride ten thousand days and nights. Till age show white hairs on thee ; Thou, when thou return' st, wilt tell me. All strange wonders that befell thee. And swear. No where Lives a woman true and fair. If thou find'st one let me know ; Such a pilgrimage were sweet. Yet do not, I would not go. Though at next door we might meet. Though she were true when you met her. And last till you write your letter. Yet she Will be False, ere I come, to two or three.' And if he finds women inconstant, he makes no boast of constancy in himself : I can love both fair and brown ; Her whom abundance melts, and her whom want betrays ; Her who loves loneness best, and her who masks and plays ; Her whom the country form'd and whom the town ; Her who believes, and her who tries ; , Her who still weeps with spongy eyes. And her who is dry cork, and never cries. I can love her, and her, and you, and you ; I can love any, so she be not true.' The tone of these verses is unmistakable ; the philo- sophy of love is brought down from heaven to earth, and the senses are glorified at the expense of the soul. In many of his later poems Donne reveals a mystic tem- perament and indulges in flights of transcendental fancy ; but at this early stage realism is all in aU to him. His 1 Song, Ibid., i. p. 4. 2 The Indifferent, i. p. 9. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 135 attitude towards love and woman is not that of the cjmic, for he was too passionate to be cynical ; it is the effrontery of youthful arrogance in a poet whose inde- pendent nature made him intolerant of subjection to con- ventional modes of thought. He saw the unreality of the Petrarchan school of poetry, and he turned contemptu- ously away from the pleasant fictions and mellifluous verse of the pastoraUsts. Shepherds and shepherdesses found no favour in his eyes, and his rebel genius refused to fleet the time carelessly in the bowers of a dreamy Arcadia. He took up arms, too, not only against the spirit of Elizabethan poetry, but also against its forms and modes of expression. Scorning the sonnet and aU its kindred forms, he pours forth his emotion into moulds of his own fashioning, the metrical lawlessness of which has been the despair of most of his critics from Jonson onwards. His imagery is not drawn from the time- honoured stories of classic fable, but from the arts and sciences and the prosaic realities of his own, generation. The aubade, the dawn-song of the awakening lovers, with its allusions to the lark and nightingale, was one of the most beautiful, but also one of the most conventional, forms of Provengal lyric, and is enshrined for ever in our memories through the use which Shakespeare makes of it in Romeo and Juliet. Donne also has his aubade : how far it is like that of Shakespeare, or that of the medieval troubadours, may be judged from the following verses : Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run ? Saucy, pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour prentices. Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride. Call country ants to .harvest offices ; Love, all ahke, no season knows nor clime. Nor hours, days, months, which axe the rags of time.^ 1 The Sun-Rising, i. p. 7. 136 ROBERT HERRICK The reactionary temper of Donne is seen again in the stamp of individuality impressed upon his poems. As we have already noticed, the impress of a salient, distinct personality is rarely met with in the lyrics of the Eliza- bethan miscellanies ; and the same is true of most, though not aU, of the sonnet-sequence. Conformity to type is the general rule, and the difference between one lyrist and another is that of quality rather than of kind; With Donne all this is changed. His forceful personality is revealed in every line he writes ; so far from wrapping himself in the robes of convention, he likes nothing better than to stand naked and unabashed before his audi- ence, displaying the working of every sinew, the flexure of every joint. His thoughts and emotions, his diction and his verse, are part of himself, and can never be mis- taken for those of any other poet, either of his own or of another day. The intellectuality of Donne, which so profoundly colours his style, and concerning which so much has been written, is only another aspect of his individuality and a further indication of his reactionary temper. The EUzabethan lyric is rarely packed with thought, rarely obscure. It often affects euphuistic phrases, but their meaning and relation to the main body of thought are generally apparent, and they have nothing^ common with the ingenuity, the cramped and tortured style of Donne, when he is, as Coleridge puts it, wreathing " iron pokers into true-love-knots." The " wit " of Donne, the love of paradox and hyperbole, and all the discordia concors brought about by a perverse and restless ingenuity, are the qualities of Donne's poetry which have chiefly impressed both his disciples and his critics, and for this very reason it is imnecessary to dwell upon them here. To what extent, and in what directions, was the in- fluence of Donne's Ijnic poetry felt by the next generation of poets ? In attempting to answer this question, we must first of all bear in mind the circumstances under which his lyrics came to light. They were first pub- LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 137 lished in 1633, two years after his death, but we have abundant evidence that they circulated widely in manu- script copies during his lifetime.^ Jonson's conversa- tions with Drummond in 1619, and Carew's Elegy on the Death of Doctor Donne, assure us that Donne was a power in the land long before he passed to his grave, in an odour of austere sanctity, within the crypt of old St Paul's. Of his influence as a styhst, of his leadership of the " metaphysical " school of poets, it is unnecessary to add anything to what Dr Johnson and many later critics have said. Mr Gosse has traced the influence of this side of his genius upon Henry King, Herbert, Crashaw, and other poets of a later generation, and has characterized it as " remarkably wide and deep, though almost entirely malign." * But his influence reached far deeper than points of style. The lyrists of the generation which fol- lowed Donne differ from those of the Elizabethan era in nothing so much as in the impress of personality which is revealed in their writings. The Elizabethan lyric, as already noticed, is curiously lacking in this personal touch, but the contrary is true of that which foUowed. The Caroline poets, whether they pay homage to the sacred or the secular muse, are always individual. Carew, Suckling and Lovelace, Herbert, Crashaw and Vaughan, have aU left upon their verses the indeUble mark of their own personality ; we touch these men to the quick when- ever we read them. The gay dalliance of the courtiers, their loves and their hates, and the spiritual struggles and religious ecstasies of the churchmen, are never con- cealed from view. And it was Donne who, breaking away from Elizabethan conventions, first imparted to the l3mc this note of individuality, this lyrical cry of an intense and passion-swept soul. The influence of Donne is seen again, though here it blends with another influence soon to be considered, in the changed attitude of seven- teenth century Ijmsts towards love and womanhood. ' 1 See Mr Gosse's Life of John Donne, vol. i. p. 79, vol. ii. p. 336. 2 Life of Donne, ii. 329. 138 ROBERT HERRICK The Petrarchan ideals, it is true, died hard. The Spen- serian school of poets remained, on the whole, true to them ; they come to light again in the Castara lyrics of Habington, and appear, chilled and sere, in the Mistress poems of Cowley : but we look for them in vain in the great body of cavalier-lyrics. When Suckling writes : Out upon it, I have loved Three whole days together ; And am like to love three more. If it prove fair weather ; or when Wither asks : Shall I, wEisting in despair. Die because a woman's fair ? Or make pale my cheeks with care 'Cause another's rosy are ? we are at once reminded of the Songs and Sonnets of Donne. Even the gentle-hearted Browne, with all his loyalty to Spenser and the pastoral tradition, comes under the influence of the new lyric in the following verses : Love who wiU, for I'll love none. There's fools enough beside me ; Yet if each woman have not one. Come to me where I hide me ; And if she can the place attain. For once I'll be her fool again. Potent and all-pervasive as the influence of Donne was upon the lyrists of the seventeenth century, it was not the only influence which made itself felt. Side by side with it, we can trace another influence, sometimes blend- ing with it, but more often opposed to it — ^that of Ben Jonson, and through Ben Jonson, that of the l57rists of Greece and Rome. Until the end of the sixteenth century is reached, the direct influence of the classical lyric upon English poetry remained subordinate to that exerted by the Italian ; and the Italian lyric, although it delighted ia LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 139 allusions to classic fable, and took on at times a certain classic colouring, is in spirit and expression different from that of Greece or Rome. The Italian lyric, at least as far as it was understood and imitated in England, was permeated with the spirit of Petrarch ; and between the soneiti and canzoni of Petrarch and the carmina of Catullus or the odes of Horace or Anacreon — to mention by name the three lyrists whose influence was chiefly felt in Renaissance England — there was very little in common. And when, with Jonson, a lyric framed on classical models arose ,in England, it was regarded, just as much as the realistic lyric of Donne, as a protest against the Petrar- chan school of poetry. Jonson, so Drummond tells us, " cursed Petrarch for redacting verses to sonnets; which, he said, were like that Tirrant's bed, where some who were too short were racked ; others, too long, cut short." ^ Until the advent of Jonson, the attempts to fashion a lyric upon classical models had been fitful and uncertain ; and some at least of the energy expended in this direction might with advantage have been otherwise applied. At a time when the study of the classics was leading to an imitation of classic measures, we find attempts being made to write Enghsh lyrics in sapphic or anacreontic verse, wherein rhyme is ignored, and accent is made more or less subservient to quantity. Thus Bamabe Barnes includes in his ParthenophU and Parthenope (1593) two lyrics, both without rhyme, and written, the one in Sapphics, and the other in anacreontics. Another lyric in sapphic verse appears in Davison's Poetical Rhapsody (1602), and one or two more among the l5mc collections of Campion. Campion, whose attack upon the " vulgar and artificial custom of rhyming," in his Observations in the Art of English Poesie, is weU known, is a singularly interesting figure in the history of the English lyric. His greatest triumphs are won in those songs in which he keeps most closely to the romantic Elizabethan maimer ; and in such lyrics as " There is a garden in her face," or 1 Conversations with Drummond, ed. Laing, p. 4. 140 ROBERT HERRICR the less known but almost equally beautiful, " Where she her sacred bower adorns," we still seem very far away from Donne or Jonson. Yet, side by side with these lyrics, we find others in which the classic style and the seventeenth century touch are unmistakable. And in this connection it must be borne in mind that Campion was a good classic scholar, and able to write Latin epigrams and lyrics with ease and fluency. Among his Books of Airs, too, appear free renderings of Horace's Integer vita, and CatuUus's Vivamus, mea Lesbia, while yet another lyric, " When the god of merry love," recalls the manner of Anacreon. It is a mark of Jonson's sanity of taste that, with all his classical bias, he never succumbed to the heresy of those who tried to substitute quantitative measures for the native principles of accent ; nor did he ever attempt to dispense with rhyme in lyric poetry. His conversa- tions with Drummond inform us that, on this rhyming controversy, he had written " a Discourse of Poesie both against Campion and Daniel, especially this last, where he proves couplets to be the bravest sort of verses, especially when they are broken, like Hexameters." One or two of his lyrics, it is true, have a certain formal resemblance to those of classical poetry ; they keep, however, strictly to the accentual principle and admit of rhyme. Thus he furnishes us with an example, the first of its kind in Enghsh, of the Pindaric Ode, which Cowley would have done well to follow. It has the regular ar- rangement of strophe, antistrophe, and epode, and was written in memory of " that nolsle pair," Sir Lucius Cary and Sir H. Morrison. Again, in the poem en- titled Euipheme, he fashions a stanza which bears a certain resemblance to the famous sapphic verse, and in his trans- lations of some of Horace's Odes he keeps as near to the rhythm of the originals as good sense and loyalty to native metrical traditions will allow him. But the classicism of Jonson strikes much deeper than the metrical structure of verse ; it consists, first of all, LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 141 in imbuing his lyric verse with a certain classical colour, ' and secondly, in maintaining, in opposition to the roman- ticism of the earlier Elizabethans, a certain classical restraint, and a purity and precision of style. The classiccil colouring is most noticealDle in the Masques, j where Olympian gods and goddesses, together with Pan > and his attendant satyrs, occupy the stage, and pay i graceful compliments to the British Solomon, his queen, | and his courtiers. The popular song is here reserved j for the comic anti-masque ; ^ the lyrics of the masque , proper are invariably art-l3m;cs, full of allusions to i ancient fable, and subject to the artistic canoils of j antiquity. Such, for instance, are the songs of Nature , and Prometheus in Mercury Vindicated, the song of Pallas in The Golden Age Restored, the song of the Muses' priests in Love freed from Folly, or the echo-song in The Masque of Beauty, where the allusions to classic fable are, after Jonson's somewhat pedantic fashion, carefuUy explained in foot-notes. We miss in these lyrics the charm of spontaneity and the simple melody of the earher dramatic song, but we cannot overlook the subtle effects of rhj'thm and the classic colour attained by the lyrist in su(^ a song as the following : Apollo. Prince of thy peace, see what it is to love The powers above ! Jove hath commanded me To visit thee ; And in thine honour with my music rear A college here. Of tuneful Augurs, whose divining skill Shall wait thee still, And be the heralds of his highest will. I See the ballad of John Urson in the Masqtie of Augurs : Though it may seem rude For me to intrude, With these my bears, by chance-a ; 'Twere sport for a king. If they could sing As well as they can dance-a. 142 ROBERT HERRICK The work is done. And I have made their president thy son ; Great Mars, too, on these nights Hath added Salian rites ; Yond, yond afar. They closed in their temples are. And each one guided by a star. Chorus. Haste, haste to meet them, and, as they advance, 'Twixt every dance. Let us interpret their prophetic trance.' A certain classic feeling is unmistakable, too, in Jon- son's love-lyrics. There are not many of these, and in the first of the Forest poems he furnishes us with his reasons, " why I write not of love." But on the few occasions where love is his theme — for instance, the two songs to CeUa in the Forest and the ten Ijoic pieces, en- titled, " A Celebration of Charis," in the Underwoods — we recognize that he is breaking away from the romantic pastoral manner of the Italian love-lyric, and drawing very near to that of the Carmina of Catullus or the Odes of Anacreon. The Celia songs, particularly the first and most famous of them, " Come, my CeUa, let us prove," is directly based on the Vivamus, mea Lesbia of Catullus, and is a ssdient example of the change which came over the love-lyric in the seventeenth century. The Petrarchan sentiment, with its spiritual exaltation of womanhood, is no more present here than in the lyrics of Donne : in its stead we find, what Donne did not supply, the gallantry of Rome. The Charis l3nics are in the Anacreontic manner, but the general tone of the love-sentiment is the same : For love's sake, kiss me once again ; I long, and should not beg in vain ; Here's none to spy or see. Why do you doubt or stay ? I'U taste as lightly as the bee. That doth but touch his flower, and flies away.' 1 Song of Apollo in Masque of Augurs. * " A Celebration of Charis," vii. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 143 Jonson's classicism manifests itself, finally, in the artistic structure of his Ijnics, and in the precision and lucidity of his style. " What vexed Jonson in the writ- ing of the earUer Elizabethans," says a Quarterly Review essayist, " was its apparent amateurishness, its preference of ornament to proportion, its sins against the canons of antiquity." ^ He found the lyrics of the song-books and miscellanies diffuse in utterance and often deficient in organic unity, while the popular song, as practised by the dramatists, seemed to him crude and lawless. The abiding purpose of his lyric genius was to substitute for this older lyric, whether popular or Italian in origin, a new lyric, modelled on that of the ancients, fastidiously piu:e in style, and true to the highest principles of structural art. To illustrate the differences of style and structure between the Ijrics of Jonson and those of most of his predecessors, we need hardly do more than quote the echo-song from Cynthia's Revels — ^probably the first lyric that he ever wrote : Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears ; Yet slower, yet ; O faintly, gentle springs ; List to the heavy part the music bears. Woe weeps out her division when she sings. Droop herbs and flowers ; Fall grief in showers, ' Our beauties are not ours : O, I could still. Like melting snow upon some craggy hiU, Drop, drop, drop, drop. Since nature's pride is now a withered dafiodil. If we compare this with any of the songs of Shake- speare, we must at once be conscious of the entire , difference of aim on the part of the rival lyrists. Shake- speare places his whole trust in the tunefulness and spontaneity of utterance, and in the unmistakable wild-, ing flavour, of the popular song, all of which Jonson is willing to sacrifice to his artistic conscience, and for the 1 The EHiiabethan Lyric {Quarterly Review, October 1902). 144 ROBERT HERRICK sake of formal excellence. The theme and the language of his lyric are Eilike simple, but it is the simplicity of the highest art — the art that conceals art. His song is a masterpiece of rhythmic subtlety, and though the con- ditions of the stage demanded that it should be sung, and set to a musical accompaniment, we feel that it is com- plete in itself, and that something of its verbal music must have been lost in the setting. Other qualities of his classic style appear in the page's song from The Silent Woman : ^ Still to be neat, still to be drest. As you were going to a feast ; Still to be powdered, still perfumed ; Lady, it is to be presumed. Though art's hid causes are not found, All is not sweet, all is not sound. Give me a look, give me a face, That makes simplicity a grace ; Robes loosely flowing, hair as free : Such sweet neglect more taketh me Than all the adulteries of art ; They strike my eyes, but not my heart. Here, in accordance with the theme, Jonson chooses a less elaborate rhythm, yet the studied effects of art are no less apparent The lucidity and precision of the words, the perfect balance of the one stanza with the other, and the epigrammatic close of the lyric, are all qualities dear to the poet's heart, and in perfect accord with his classical taste. In aU that pertains to lucidity ) of style Jonson found himself opposed, not only to the I Italianate ornamentation of the earlier art-lyric, but also ij to the metaphysical wit of his contemporary, Donne. I Drummond has preserved for us his views on Donne's ' obscurity and his " not keeping of accent," and even 1 This lyric is, however, no more original than " Come, my Celia, let us prove," or " Drink to me only with thine eyes ; " it is based upon a Latin poem by the sixteenth-century French poet, Jean Bonnefons. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 145 the harshest of Jonson's critics must allow that he fur- ' nished in his Forest and ^Underwoods a wholesome corrective to the lawlessness of the author of the Songs and Sonnets. And as the century advances, it is interest- ing to note the clash of these two influences. The religious lyrists are, in the main, on the side of the metaphysical Donne, while the secular lyrists, above aU Herrick, are chiefly on the side of Jonson ; but Carew, the greatest of these next to Herrick, is somewhat un- certain in his allegiance. His best songs have the courtly grace and perfect finish of Jonson, as, for instance, that begiiming : Ask me no more where Jove bestows. When June is past, the fading rose ; For in your beauty's orient deep, These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. But at other times the masterful sway of Donne seizes hold of him, and it is a fitting homage to that great lyrist that he comes nearest to his manner in the elegy with which he laments his death. In the end it was Jonson who trimnphed. The f Restoration lyric — the songs of Sedley, Etherege, j Rochester, and Dryden — is the final expression of those ' principles of classicism which Jonson taught and prac- tised. It is a l37ric painfully limited in its range, and i devoid of the imaginative power and genuine emotion ; which are essential elements in all great lyric poetry : but in its sense of design, the evenness of its structure, \ the avoidance of tortured phrase and harsh inversion, [ and, finally, in the purity and precision of its vocabulary, \ it remains true to the pattern set by that great contem- porary of Shakespeare, who wrought the same revolution in the temper and form of our Enghsh lyric that Malherbe wrought in that of France. It is unnecessary to carry this review of the Renaissance lyric any farther into the seventeenth century. Carew, Suckling, Lovelace, Cartwright, and their fellows, to- gether with most of the religious lyrists, were junior to 146 ROBERT HERRICK Herrick in point of birth ; and if some of them saw their works pass through the press before the appearance of the Hesperides in 1648, they were not before him in their courtship of the muse. Although akin to many of them in sympathy of taste, and pursuing with them a like end in poetry, he seems never to have come under their direct influence, and there is indeed no evidence that he knew either them or their works. In his lyrics he renders, as we have seen, fuU and frequent homage to Jonson, and writes a glowing eulogy on " Master Fletcher's incomparable Playes " : at a later period, too, we find him on friendly terms with the younger generation of poets, including Denham, the younger Cotton, and John HaU of Durham. But there is no mention of the CavaUer lyrists of Charles I.'s time, and the silence is doubtless to be explained by the fact that, from 1629 onwards, Herrick, in the seclusion of his Devonshire parson- age, was out of reach of the Court and the courtly singers. Before bringing this chapter to a close, it will be well to retrace our steps a little, and take up again the history of the various forms of song-lyric and reflective Is^ric which we have followed as far as the end of the sixteenth century. The popular song was, as we have seen, driven from its last stronghold, the drama, by the reforming spirit of Ben Jonson very early in the new century. In the plays of Fletcher, Middleton, and Brome we occa- sionally meet with songs which preserve the traditions of the folk-song, but the great body of seventeenth-century dramatists followed the example of Jonson, and sub- stituted for it an art-lyric more or less classical in spirit and style. Yet the seventeenth century had not pro- ceeded very far before a revival of interest in the popular song began. In 1609 Thomas Ravenscroft published his Pammelia, a collection of rounds or catches, set to music, and distinctly popular in character. Here, for instance, we find such songs as " Joan, come kiss me now," " The white hen she cackles," and " Blow thy horn, thou LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 14^ jolly hunter." The collection was well received, and was followed in the same year by another, entitled Deuteromelia, and consisting of " pleasant Roundelaies, , King Harry's mirth or freemen's songs and such delightf ull catches." Two years later appeared Ravenscroft's third collection, Melismata, described as " Musical! Phantasies, fitting the Court, Citie and Countrey," and including such popular airs as " There were three ravens sat on a tree," and " The frog he would a-wooing ride." How far this revival of interest in popular song proved creative, and how far it remained merely antiquarian, is, on the evi- dence before us, difficult to decide ; but the vast number of songs, of a more or less popular character, contained in the Pepys, Bagford and Roxburghe collections, bear witness to the fact that the popular song regained in the seventeenth century some of the popularity which it had enjoyed before the coming to England of the Italian song-lyric. The EUzabethan madrigal, in spite of the presence of a new rival, lived on into the seventeenth century and retained a good deal of popularity for the space of nearly forty years. Michael East's seven collections of madrigals range between 1604 and 1638, and in literary quality rank above most of the sixteenth-century collections. But the classical taste of the age has left its influence upon many of these seventeenth-century madrigals. The Petrarchan mood gradually gives way to gallantry, or to the note of rebellion heard in the Ijrrics of Donne : at the same time we miss the Italianate graces of the earlier madrigal ; instead of these we meet with a greater directness of expression and a growing taste for epigram. This fondness for epigrammatic point is the extreme expression of that concision of style which is a feature of the Renaissance l5ndc from the time of Jonson onwards ; and it calls to mind the fact that many of the lyrists of the time — Sir John Davies, Ben Jonson, Herrick and others — ^were also writers of epigrams. The following madrigals will serve as illustrations of the new manner : 148 ROBERT HERRICK Your shining eyes and golden hair. Your hly-rosdd lips so fair ; Your various beauties which excel. Men cannot choose but like them well : But when for them they say they'll die, Beheve them not, — ^they do but lie.^ Crowned with flowers I saw fair Amaryllis By Th3nrsis sit, hard by a fount of crystal. And with her hand, more white than siiow or hhes. On sand she wrote : My faith shall be immortal ; And suddenly a storm of wind and weather Blew all her faith and sand away together .^ Madrigals of this sort have much more in common with some of the epigrammatic verses of the Greek anthologists than with the kind of madrigal which William Byrd was setting to music twenty years earlier ; and we are therefore scarcely surprised to find in Orlando Gibbons's. First Set of Madrigals (1612) the following adaptation of the famous dedicatory epigram from the Anthologia GrcBca, formerly attributed to Plato : Lais, now old, that erst all-tempting lass. To Goddess Venus consecrates her glass ; For she herself hath now no use of one. No dimpled cheeks hath she to gaze upon : She cannot see her springtide damask grace. Nor dare she look upon her winter face. The approximation of the madrigal to the manner of the Greek and Roman epigram may possibly be due to the fact that, as a pure Ijaic, it had to submit, during the later period of its existence, to the rivalry of the air or solo-song, which reached England from Italy just before the end of the sixteenth century. The air differed from the madrigal in several respects : the music was no longer polj^phonic, but introduced a definite melody ; 1 From Thomas Bateson's First Set of English Madrigals, 1604 ; quoted by BuUen, Lyrics from Elizabethan Song-Books, p. 45. 2 From William Byrd's Psalms, Songs and Semnets, 1611 ; ibid., p. 73. LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 149 this, in its turn, led to the division of the theme into I stanzas, the melody being repeated with each stanza after the manner of the popular song ; finally, the song was accompanied by music, the favourite instrument being the lute. This musical change brought with it a change in the character of the words set to music ; > these no longer remained of secondary interest, but became once more, in Pindar's phrase, " lords of the Ijnre " — or the lute. The sole object of these composers of solo-songs, writes Sir Hubert Parry, " seems to have been to supply a kind of music which would enable people with no voices worth considering to recite poems in a melodious semi-recitative, spaced out into- periods in conformity with the length of the lines or the literary phrases."^ The first collection of lute-accompanied songs was that of John Dowland, published in 1597. Many beautiful lyrics are found in this collection, including the familiar " His golden locks Time hath to silver turned," and their literary quality is fully on a level with that of the miscellany-lyrics of the same date. Three years later, with the appearance of the First Book of Airs of Thomas Campion and Phihp Rossiter, and Robert Jones's First Book of Songs and Airs, the solo- song won for itself an assured place in the musical world of the time. Books of " Songs and Airs " appeared in rapid succession during the succeeding years, and the popularity of the solo-song was no doubt enhanced by the fact that it found a place in the masques of the court. The masque-songs of Jonson, to which reference has already been made, together with those of other masque-writers, were almost invariably of this character, and were sung to a musical accompaniment. As the century advanced, the old composers — Campion, Dow- land, Jones, Ferrabosco — passed away, but their places were taken by a younger race, who followed in the main the same traditions, and included among whom were I The Music of the Seventeenth Century (Oxford History of Music), p. 209. 11 ISO ROBERT HERRICK Henry and William Lawes, Nicholas Laniere, John Wilson, John Gamble, and John Playford. This later generation of composers turned naturally to the songs of the Cavalier lyrists in their search for words to which to set their melodies. The extent to which the songs of Herrick received a musical setting has been indicated in an earlier chapter ; and, side by side with l5Tics from the Hesperides, we find, in the song-books of the period, frequent borrowings from the published works of Carew, Lovelace, Waller, Cartwright, Davenant, Randolph, Thomas Stanley, Katherine Phillips, "the matchless Orinda," and even Francis Quarles. The Cavalier lyrist who was most fortunate in securing a musical' setting for his songs was Thomas Stanley. In 1656, John Gamble, the composer, pubhshed a collection of songs, entitled " Ayres and Dialogues to be sung to the Theorbo-Lute or Base-Viol " ; this consisted of eighty-four songs and two dialogues, the words of all of which were furnished by Stanley. Mention has been made of these facts in order to correct the statement, sometimes made by historians of our lyric poetry, that the seventeenth- century 15^10 was far less closely associated with music than that of the EUzabethan age. It is true that the Caroline era produced no Campion capable of setting his own songs to music, but an examination of the song- books of the two periods shows that the lyrics of Carew, Lovelace, Herrick or Stanley stood as fair a chance of being set to music as those of Marlowe, Breton, Greene or Bamfield. Turning, in the last place, to the \yncs which were written to be read, we notice, before all else, the rapid decline of the sonnet after the turn of the century. This has already been alluded to, and attempts have been made to explain the decUne ; the sonnet, alike in its temper and its form, was out of harmony with the spirit of the age, and it seems to have lacked the power of altering its diaracter in the way that the madrigal did. Sonnets, and even sonnet-sequences, were written LYRIC OF THE ENGLISH RENAISSANCE 151 in the seventeenth century, but with the exception of those of Drummond of Hawthornden, who lived in a country which the flood-tide of the Renaissance reached very late, and those of Milton, which are a thing apart, they were the productions of obscure poets, content to keep to the backwaters of literary life. The last of the Renaissance sonneteers was PhUip Ayres, who published a volume of " Lyric Poems, made in imitation of the ItaUans," as late as 1687. In his preface he finds it necessary to apologize for writing such obsolete forms of lyric poetry as sonnets, canzones, and madrigals ; he is aware that " none of oiur great men, either Mr WaUer, Mr Cowley or Mr Dryden, whom it was most proper to have followed, have ever stoop'd to anjrthing of this sort," and that the success of Spenser, Sidney, and MUton as sonneteers is a thing which " cannot much be boasted of " (!) ; but he has followed the old manner because his genius has prompted him to do so.^ The quality of this derehct collection of Petrarchan love- IjTrics is, as may be supposed, not high. With the decUne of the sonnet-sequences proceeded, though in a less marked degree, that of the miscellanies. This, however, furnishes us with no evidence whatever of the decadence of this kind of lyric poetry. The poets ; of the seventeenth century were less willing to cast their verses to the winds than those of the preceding i generation ; they preferred to keep them by them until the harvest was large enough to induce them to court pubhcity through the ordinary channels. And at the ' same time it is a mistake to suppose that the production of anthologies of lyrics by various poets ceased with the appearance of Davison's Poetical Rhapsody in 1602. Collections of l5nics and epigrams, haiUng from various sources, appeared from time to time throughout the seventeenth century; and among the most important of these were Wit's Recreations {1640) and Musarum DelicicB (1655), wTiich contained some of Herrick's I Saintsbury, Caroline Poets, vol. u., p. 269. t52 ROBERT HERRICK jewelled lines, and the editing of which was in the hands of such distinguished persons as Sir John Mennes, the Commander of the King's Navy, and Dr James Smith, the divine. What conclusion, then, can be arrived at as to the relation of the seventeenth-century lyric to that of the Elizabethan age, and what reply can be made to those who bring against the later lyric the charge of decadence ? It is true that we have yet to consider the work of the greatest and most versatile of Carohne lyrics, but we are, nevertheless, in a position to state that the lyric of the first half of the seventeenth century is not inferior to that of the second half of the sixteenth, but different from it. It is true that the later period has nothing to show Uke the great Elizabethan sonnet-sequences, and it is also true that, when we pass from Marlowe, Shake- speare, Breton and Campion to the next generation of lyrists, we find an undoubted falUng off in spontaneity and pure songfulness. But in the seventeenth century we have, instead of the sonnet, the great outburst of reHgious lyric poetry associated with the names of Herbert, Crashaw, Vaughan and Traherne, and in no way inferior to the sonnet in soaring exaltation or mystic rapture, though the love which inspires these lyrics is directed towards Heaven and not towards woman. And if in the secular song there is a loss of spontaneity, timefulness, and at times of idyllic beauty, there is an immense gain in all that pertains to art. A sense of form and of structure manifests itself ; and the IjTric, sacrificing romantic charm, wins instead a certain classic grace. Lastly, the seventeenth century brought to Ijn-ic poetry the sense of individuality, the personal note, the lyrical cry of a human soul amid its pleasures and its pains, its hopes and its fears. This was a new thing in our poetry, and it gives to the work of these Carohne Ijrists a touch of modernity, a kinship with ourselves, whidi the Elizabethan lyric rarely possesses. CHAPTER II THE LYRICAL POEMS OF THE "HESPERIDES" The preceding chapter has been concerned with the main line of development taken by the secular 15010 in England dxuring the period of the Renaissance ; and before coming to a study of Herrick's individual poems, it is necessary to determine the general relationship which the poet bears to the tendencies of his age. We have to ask ourselves, What was his attitude towards the popular song, and towards the various forms of art-lyric which flourished under Elizabeth ? To what extent did he feel the spell exercised by the masterful genius of Donne, and how far did he conform to the classical traditions revived by Ben Jonson ? Sealed as he was of the " tribe of Ben," we may well expect to find in his verses some trace of that reform of lyric art begun by Jonson, and continued by other members of the " tribe." Nor are our expectations disappointed ; of aU Jonson's disciples none accepted the lessons which he taught so completely as Herrick. The classicism of Jonson, con- sisting as it does in the expression of sound sense in pure language, and also in the absorption of much of the colour and atmosphere of Greek and Roman poetry, is from first to last the classicism of Herrick. And though the disciple was doubtless poorer than his master in the wealth of classical scholarship, we nevertheless feel that he moves among the great shadows of the ancient world, and arrays himself in their apparel, with more ease and grace. There is at times a touch of pedantry in Jonson, 154 ROBERT HERRICK which suggests that he obtained his Roman citizenship with a great sum, whereas Herrick was undoubtedly free-bom. The classical qualities of Herrick's style must be reserved for later consideration ; what we are concerned with here is his indebtedness to Greek and Roman poets for ideas and lyric themes, and the readiness with which he enters into the spirit of classical poetry. And, at the outset, it may be stated that his classicism is, in the main, Roman and not Greek. He gives us, it is true, in his Ijnric entitled The Cruel Maid (159) a free rendering of a portion of Theocritus's twenty-third Idyll, and, as we shall see presently, he shows an intimate acquaintance with the Odes of Anacreon, and with some of the poems of the Greek Anthology ; but he borrows much more freely from Roman authors, and, what is stiU more important, the classic colour in which his lyrics are so often steeped, and the paganism which at times informs his verses, is that of Rome, and not that of Athens or Alexandria. The paganism of Herrick is one of his peculiar qualities. Jonson loved beyond all things to introduce into his lyrics some reference to ancient customs and ceremonial, to talk of Lares and Penates, or to call to mind some forgotten rite in the religious life of ancient Rome ; yet we are never tempted to forget that he was an Englishman' of the Elizabethan and Jacobean age, who satirized beneath classic masks the humours of London hfe, and engaged in wit-combats with Shake- speare at the Mermaid Tavern in Bread Street. But with Herrick the ca^e is different. We feel that there are times when, poring over the pages of the Roman lyrists and elegists in the seclusion of his Devonshire cell, he shakes off the fetters of time and place, and stands before us as a habitant of that city which clung for so long to " the religion of Numa," and found a pecuhar grati- fication in presenting its offerings of " holy meal and spirting salt " before the images of its household Lares and Penates. Herrick's allusions to these ceremonial rites are so simple and so intimate that they give to his LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 155 verses something more than a merely antiquarian colom-. His Hymns to the Lares (see Nos. 324, 333, 674) and To the Genius of his House (723) do not read like literary exercises, but like true expressions of his genuine faith. Some of these poems, moreover, were written in his graver moments, and at critical junctures in his Ufe. When the call comes to him to leave Dean Prior, he seizes the occasion to address a poem To Lar (333) : No more shall I, since I am driven hence. Devote to thee my grains of frankincense : No more shall I from mantle-trees hang down. To honour thee, my little parsley crown ; No more shall I (I "fear me) to thee bring My chives of garlic for an ofiering ; No more shall I from henceforth hear a choir Of merry crickets by my country fire. Go where I will, thou lucky Lar, stay here. Warm by a glitt'ring chimney all the year. Again, it is impossible to doubt that the verses which he wrote after paying a visit to his father's grave are both reverent and sincere ; yet what other poet could, with propriety, have introduced on such an occasion the mortuary ceremonial of ancient Rome, in the way that Herrick has done in the opening verses of this poem ? That for seven lusters I did never come To do the rites to thy religious tomb ; That neither hair was cut, or true tears shed By me, o'er thee, as justments to the dead. Forgive, forgive me ; since I did not know Whether thy bones had here their rest or no. But now 'tis known, behold ! behold ! I bring Unto thy ghost th' effused ofiering : And look what smallage, night-shade, cypress, yew. Unto the shades have been, or now are due. Here I devote. ' Poems such as these bring home to us the conviction that there was in Herrick a curious strain of paganism, 1 To the Reverend Shade of his Religious Father (82). 156 ROBERT HERRICK which accords none too well with his duties as a Christian priest, but which gives to his lyrics a classical flavour not met with elsewhere in English poetry. But it is time to pass from this, and to come, to a consideration of his indebtedness to the great classic masters of lyric poetry. Of the 13^10 poets of antiquity none made a deeper impression upon Herrick than that school of Alexandrian singers whose Odes are falsely ascribed to the Teian poet, Anacreon. Reference has already been made to the popularity with which the so- called Odes of Anacreon were received by Elizabethan madrigalists, by miscellany Ijnists, and by Ben Jonson in those love-lyrics entitled A Celebration of Charis ; and this popularity increased rather than diminished in the Carohne age. It is uncertain whether Herrick read his Anacreon in the original Greek, or in the Latin version of the French humanist, Henri Estienne ; and except that it would be interesting to know whether he had a knowledge of Greek, the point is not of great importance. But between the Anacreon of the Odes and the Caroline poet in his lighter moods there was undoubtedly a remark- able afifinity of temperament. The gaiety and frank hedonism of Anacreon, his picturesque and dainty fancifulness, and his fondness for self-portraiture, are all qualities equally characteristic of Herriclc. There are several references to Anacreon in the Hesperides, and in the poem entitled The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium (573), Herrick definitely recog- nizes that between himself and the Greek l3ndst titiere was a close bond of union : And that done, I'll bring thee, Herrick, to Anacreon, Quaffing his full-crown' d bowls of burning wine. And in his raptures speaking lines of thine. Like to his subject ; and as his frantic Looks show him truly BacchanaUan-like, Besmear' d with grapes, welcome he shall thee thither, Where both may rage, both drink and dance together. LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 157 The vision of an Elysium where Anacreon quotes Herrick, and Herrick Anacreon, is one which it is pleasant to linger over. Among the Hesperides there are some six or seven poems which are fairly close translations of Anacreon, ^ together with others which, partly because of the mood which they reveal, and partly because of the short trochaic verse in which they are written, he entitles " Anacreontic Verses." But the influence of the Greek lyrist is by no means confined to these ; we feel it again and again in his sensuous love-l5n:ics to Julia, Electra, and his other mistresses, and in the voluptuous dream- fancies, such as The Vision (142) and The Vision to Electra (56), which are modelled on certain Odes of Anacreon, similar in conception and expression. Still keeping to lyrics of which love is the theme, we cannot fail to recognize that such a poem as that entitled Upon the Loss of his Mistresses (39), in which he tells the number of those conquests of which Time has robbed him, bears something more than an accidental resemblance to the thirty-second Ode of Anacreon, in which that lyrist relates what spoils he has won in the lists of love at Athens, Corinth, and amongst Carian and Ionian dames. Or again, if wine be his theme, it is still Anacreon that inspires the strain ; his Hymn to Bacchus (304) and his Canticle to Bacchus (415) recall, both by their sentiment and their light trochaic verse, the manner of the Greek : To Bacchus : A Canticle Whither dost thou whorry me, Bacchus, being full of thee ? This way, that way, that way, this. Here and there a fresh love is. 1 See, in particular. The Cheat of Cupid (8i), The Wounded Cupid (139), and those lines On Himself, beginning " Bom I was to meet with age " (519). 158 ROBERT HERRICK That doth like me, this doth please ; Thus a thousand mistresses I have now ; yet I alone, Having all, enjoy not one. Herrick delighted equally in that fanciful side of Anacreon's genius which fashioned cameo-like pictures of Cupid stung by a bee, or drawing his arrow upon the poet who has given him warmth and shelter. Not only did he translate these odes, but he contrived others similar to them in manner, and rivalling them in the dainty grace of the workmanship : The Bag of the Bee 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 stripp'd them, ' And taking thence from each his flame. With rods of myrtle whipp'd them. Which done, to still their wanton cries. When quiet grown she'd seen them. She kiss'd, and wip'd their dove-Uke eyes. And gave the bag between them. ' Finally, it seems to have been mainly from Anacreon, though the practice reappears also in CatuUus, that Herrick drew the idea of addressing poems " To Him- self," in which, exactly in the manner of the Greek poet, he lightly discourses of his hopes and fears, his sensuous delight in the gay pleasures of Ufe, or his presentiment of grey hairs and advancing years. How intensely Anacreontic, for instance, is the following : I fear no earthly powers, But care for crowns of flowers ; 1 No. 92. LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 159 And love to have my beard With, wine and oil besmear' d. This day I'll drown all sorrow : Who knows to Uve to-morrow ? ^ But while recognizing the indebtedness of Herrick to Anacreon, it is important not to exaggerate it. It is in his shortest, hghtest, and most sensuous lyrics that this influence is chiefly felt ; in his nobler and more sustained flights of song, he soars to heights where the Greek lyrist was unable to lend him guidance ; the truth is that the whole of Anacreon is summed up in Herrick, but not the whole of Herrick in Anacreon. Of the Roman lyric poets, it is Catullus and Horace that have left the deepest impression upon him ; he was imdoubtedly familiar with their works, and translates from both of them. Lowell has called Herrick " the most Catullian of poets since Catullus," ^ and it is incumbent on us to see what truth there is in the statement. In that spirited poem. To Live Merrily and Trust to Good Verses (201), he empties his goblet in honour of Catullus, and refers to him as follows : Then this immensive cup Of aromatic wine, Catullus, I quaff up To that terse muse of thine. His song To Anthea (74) is reminiscent in places of the most passionate of Catullus's love lyrics to Lesbia, Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus ; and his elegy Upon the Death of his Sparrow (256), though different in presentment, was undoubtedly suggested by the famiUar Ltictus in Morte Passeris of the Veronese l3nist. But the actual borrowings from Catullus are much slighter than those from Martial, Ovid, Horace or Seneca, and indicate Uttle more than that Herrick had read the Carmina and remembered them. Yet the relationship 1 No. 170. 2 " Essay on Lessing." i6o ROBERT HERRICK which the EngUsh poet bears to the Roman goes deeper than mere reminiscence of phrase. In the first place, it should be borne in mind that the Hesperides bear a strik- ing superficial resemblance to the Carmina of CatuUus in their apparently disorderly arrangement — an arrange- ment which ignores chronological order, and brings the loftiest strains of l3nic song into close proximity with the coarsest epigrams. Penetrating beneath the surface, we notice the striking sincerity of utterance which char- acterizes either poet ; both of them lay bare their personal tastes, their loves and their hatreds, with absolute frankness. Herrick shares, too, Catullus's sympathetic nature, and his tender regard for friends and relations ; either poet is ready at aU times to devote his muse to the service of his friends, and is keenly alive to the sense of bereavement. Herrick's lament for the death of his brother William (i86) falls, in passionate intensity, little short of the immortal Unes in which Catullus bewails the death of his brother in the Troad.^ There is, too, a resemblance between their poems on the side of style. Herrick shows his critical faculty in attaching to Catullus the epithet " terse," and the terseness of the Carmina, the directness of appeal, the avoidance of surplusage and of mannerisms, find their counterpart in the Hes- perides. But it is as love poets that Catullus and Herrick have usually been compared, and here, it must be confessed, the difference between them is great. In his love-poems to JuUa, Corinna, and the other mistresses,. Herrick only on rare occasions glows with the same fiery passion which enkindles the Veronese poet's songs to Lesbia. The absence of passion on Herrick's part may be ac- counted for by the belief that he is singing only of imaginary mistresses, whereas we know that Catullus's Lesbia was luridly real ; but, however explained, this lack of the genuine fire of love makes Herrick's verses seem very different from those of the Roman poet. We have 1 Carmina, Izviii. LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " i6i only to compare the lines to Anthea with the fifth of the Carmina, on which, as already stated, they are based, in order to realize the difference between the love of the two poets. Herrick reproduces the somewhat fanciful lines — Da mi basia mille, deinde centum ; Dein mille altera, dein secunda centum ; Dein usque altera mille, deinde centum — cleverly enough : Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score ; Then to that twenty add a hundred more ; A thousand to that hundred ; so kiss on. To make that thousand up a milUon. ' But, unmoved by the passion and poignancy of the fore- going verses — Soles occidere et redire possunt : Nobis, quum semel occidit brevis lux, Nox est perpetua una dormienda— he substitutes for them some of his grossest lines. Peculiarly interesting is the attitude of Herrick to Horace. What is probably the first poem he ever wrote, A Country Life to Thomas Herrick, is singularly full of Horatian echoes, and shows the same deUght in the associations of country life which we meet with in the Odes. A few years later, he translated the ninth Ode of Book III. — the dialogue between Horace and Lydia — and had it set to music. Throughout the Hesperides, too, and especially in the poems of a sententious character, we come upon passages, and sometimes short poems, which are little more than free translations of Horace. Thus he loves to round off poems by a passage taken from the Roman master, and generally acknowledges the debt by itaUcs. For instance, the bold figure of the last line of The Bad Season makes the Poet Sad (612) : And once more yet ere I am laid out dead, Knock at a star with my exalted head— ^ 1 No. 74. (2.489) 6 i62 ROBERT HERRICK is an exact translation of the close of the first Ode of Book I. : Quodsi me lyricis vatibus inseres, Sublimi feriam sidera vertice. Similarly, the concluding couplet of the poem, To the Earl of Westmorland {459) : Virtue conceard, with Horace you'll confess, Differs not much from drowsy slothfulness — is an acknowledged translation of the following : Paulum sepultae distat inertias Celata virtus.' It is worthy of notice that Herrick turns to Horace for inspiration in his graver moments. The Hesperides bear witness to the fact that their author knew his Horace too well to fall into the common error that the Augustan poet was a mere seeker after pleasure, the bard of love and song and wine, who bids his readers enjoy the fleet- ing hours of present existence, taking no thought for the morrow. And it is significant that, when in the very highest spirits he writes To Live Merrily and Trust to Good Verses (201), and pledges in a bumper of wine the memory of Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Catullus, Propertius, and Tibullus, he makes no mention of Horace. In his BacchanaUan l37rics he looks not to Horace, but to Anacreon ; and when he celebrates in verse one of his many mistresses, he has in mind, not the love-lyrics which Horace devotes to his Lydia, or Glycera, but the Lesbia poems of Catullus, the elegies of Ovid, or again, the sensuous odes of Anacreon. To Horace he turns, as also to Seneca, in his graver moods, to furnish him with some sententious apophthegm, or to inculcate some of the more practical lessons of philosophy — ^mastery of self and a fife of moderation. Such poems as His Wish (153), Purposes (615), or that entitled Men mind no State in Sickness {696), are clearly reminiscent of Horace, as is 1 IV. Ode ix. 29. LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 163 also that entitled His Age, dedicated to his friend John Weekes (336). In this last it is Horace's famous Eheu fugaces that inspires the song, together with the allied in spirit and equally famous Diffugere nives of Book IV. Nor can it, I think, be doubted that the noble poem, The Christian Militant (323), which is not unworthy of comparison with Wordsworth's Happy Warrior, is in its philosophy more nearly akin to the blended Stoicism and Epicureanism that we meet with in the maturer poems of Horace than to the ethics of Christianity. If there was a kinship between Herrick and Horace in respect of their philosophy of Kfe, there was also a kin- ship of tastes. Horace on his Sabine farm, and Herrick tilling his acres of glebe at Dean Prior, come near to one another in their surroundings and habits of Ufe. Both had known the life of the court and the city, and both had followed up this Ufe by one of comparative seclusion in the country, and had found in the activities and recreations of rustic life, and in the ever-changing face of Nature, matter for song. In the place of his seclusion Horace was more fortunate than Herrick ; at such times as he felt the monotony and tedium of the Sabine farm steal over him, he could escape to Rome, or to fash- ionable Tibur or Baise, and there mingle freely in the society of the literati and the courtiers. But Herrick, far away from London, and held fast by parochial duties, could not so readily pass from the one life to the other, and as a result of this we find, instead of the affectionate terms in which Horace always refers to his country Ufe, those occasional outbursts of spleen against Dean Prior, of which we have already taken count. But the point at which Horace and Herrick come nearest to one another is in the feeUng that the work which they are doing, the monument which they are raising, is one which wU outUve them. This faith in the immortality of poetry was, as literary historians have shown, common to most of the poets of the Renaissance. But it was in a very special sense the faith of Herrick, i64 ROBERT HERRICK a faith to which he clung with a tenacity which no neglect could shake. The same faith was, of course, in Horace : it is the theme of the proud ode which closes the second book, and of the still prouder one at the end of the third. In his sure beUef in the immortality of the Hesperides Herrick had Horace in mind, and the thought of that poet's fame, veiled for something hke a thousand years beneath a cloud, and then effulgent in the stirring days of the Renaissance, when the dead came to life again, and old things were made new, may well have cheered the Carohne lyrist amid his work. The very language in which he assures himself of this immortality is a clear echo of Horace's Non omnis moriar and Exegi monumentum aere perennius : Thou shalt not all die ; for, while love's fire shines Upon his altar, men shall read thy Unes, And learned musicians shall, to honour Herrick' s Fame and his name, both set and sing his l3n:ics.' Behold this living stone I rear for me. Ne'er to be thrown Down, envious Time, by thee. Pillars let some set up If so they please : Here is my hope And my Pjnramides.' Space does not permit us to investigate further the in- debtedness of Herrick to the writers of the classic world. A large number of lines taken direct from the works of Ovid show his diUgent study of that poet, and here and there we come upon verses which recall Virgil and the great Roman elegists, Tibullus and Propertius. There are, too, throughout the Hesperides, frequent remin- iscences of both the tragedies and the prose works of 1 upon Himself {366). 2 His Poetry his Pillar (211). LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 165 Seneca, as well as of the historical writings of Tacitus. Indeed, the more carefully the Hesperides are studied, the more do they reveal the fact that Herrick carried with him to his vicarage at Dean Prior the best works of the great Roman authors, and that during the long winter evenings which he spent there, he pored over their writings with the eyes of a scholar and a lover. His acquaintance with the lyric poetry of the Re- naissance age was less profound. There is nothing to show that he had any acquaintance with the Petrarchan school of Itahan lyrists who had inspired the poets of EUzabethan England. The reaction against the Petrarch- ists, begun by Jonson and Donne, was continued by Herrick. He has left us nothing in the nattire of sonnet or canzone, nor is there much resemblance between his love Ijnics and those of Renaissance Italy. Nor, again, can we trace in his works the influence of French Ijrric poetry ; the lustrous names of the poets of La Pleiade seem to have been unknown to him. It would be pleasant to think that he had read Remy Belleau, and that the Petites Inventions, the lyncs and idyUs of La Bergerie and Les Amours et Nouveaux Eschanges des Pierres Pre- cieuses found a place on his shelves side by side with the Odes of Anacreon. There was in fact much that was com- mon to the two poets : both were lovers and imitators of Anacreon, who inspired both of them to write of love and of " times trans-slufting," and to weave delicate fancies round the minute* creations of Nature. Herrick would have found pure deUght in BeUeau's beautiful song, Avril : Avril, rhoimeur et des bois, Et des mois : Avril, la douce esp6rance Des fruicts qui spus le coton Du bouton Nourrissent leur jeune enfance. . . ' And the poet who sang of the hock-cart would have 1 Belleau, (Euvres Poitiques, ed. Marty-Lavaux, i. p. zoi. i66 ROBERT HERRICK found a kindred soul in the author of Les Vendangeurs. Herrick's Description of a Woman, again, is strikingly like BeUeau's Portrait de sa Maistresse, but there is no reason for suggesting imitation ; either poet found his model in the twenty-eighth ode of Anacreon. Herrick's attitude as a master of l5Tic poetry to the lyrists of Elizabethan England and those of his own generation is very interesting and calls for closest study. His classical sympathies and his sturdy allegiance to Ben Jonson made him turn aside from the dreamy mysticism of the sonneteers, nor could his mundane temperament appreciate the Platonic idealism of Spenser. But there was an undoubted strain of romance in Herrick's genius, while his long association with EngUsh rural hfe, and his intense delight in all the pagan ritual of the countryside, brought him into touch with the simple idylUc poetry of England's Helicon, and, in spite of his artistic tastes and classical bias, with the ruder min- strelsy of the popular song. Among the Hesperides are several songs of a distinctly popular character, and others which, if savouring more of the artist, keep, nevertheless, to the rhythm of popular song. There were in the seventeenth century severed songs which attained popularity, the hero of which was the roving, mirth-loving tinker. A song, entitled " The Jovial Tinker," is contained in the Pepys Collection, and akin to it is that beginning — There was a jovial tinker. Dwelt in the land of Turvey — preserved in the first part of Merry Drollery Complete (1670). In the spirit of these songs Herrick wrote his Tinker's Song (1051), the popular accent of which is unmistakable : Along, come along, Let's meet in a throng Here of tinkers : And quafi up a bowl LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 167 As big as a cowl To beer drinkers. The pole of the hop Place in the aleshop To bethwack us. If ever we think So much as to drink Unto Bacchus. Who froUc will be For little cost, he Must not vary From beer-broth at all, So much as to call For Canary. The rhythm of this song, with its alternating iambs and anapaests, recurs in a good number of the songs of the Hesperides, most of which have a certain popular ring in them. We meet with it, or something very like it, in Up Tails All (727), which is also a version of another extremely popular song of the time, in The Hag is Astride (643), The Peter-Penny (762), Ceremonies for Christmas (784), Draw-Gloves (243), The May-pole is up (695), and in Twelfth-Night, or King and Queen (1035). The use of this rhythm for popular airs is fairly common in the seventeenth century, a good example being The Encounter, published among the Rump-Songs in 1662. Again, Herrick's charm-songs have a distinctly popular flavour about them, and may be compared with those primitive charm-songs, " Against Stitch," " Against a Swarm of Bees," etc., which are among the earliest pieces of verse in English literature. In his charms he is content to ignore art, and to set forth the superstitions which he gathered in the chimney-comers of Dean Prior in the simplest possible manner : If ye fear to be affrighted. When ye are by chance benighted. In your pocket for a trust. Carry nothing but a crust ; i68 ROBERT HERRICK For that holy piece of bread Charms the danger and the dread .1 This I'll teU ye by the way. Maidens, when ye leavens lay ; Cross your dough, and your dispatch Will be better for your batch.' Herrick never wrote anything quite like the songs with recurring refrain which we meet with in the plays of Shakespeare and Dekker, and which approximate so closely to the manner of primitive folk-song ; but his charms, his may-pole songs and wassail-songs, and his lyrics for Christmas and Candlemas ceremonies, come very near the folk-lore rhjmies of the English countryside, and offer a pleasing contrast to those art-lyrics of his, in which the chief inspiration is drawn from classic sources. When we turn from the popular song, and its allies, to the more formal art-lyric of the Elizabethan period, it is not easy to say precisely at what points Herrick came under the influence of the earlier masters. It may be taken for granted that he was fairly well ac- quainted with the collections of madrigals and mis- cellany-lyrics ; and when the authors of these sing of country life and country festivities, they come very near to Herrick. But the more artificial kinds of art-l37ric, above all the sonnet and its kindred forms, were foreign to the taste of Ben Jonson's disciple, though the lyric of pastoralism, especially if written in amcebean form, was practised by him, as also by most of the secular lyrists of the time. It is significant, too, that whereas he makes frequent mention in his verses of the great l)?rists of classical antiquity, and of Ben Jonson among the modems, he does not once refer to Marlowe, Sidney, Spenser, Greene, Breton, Campion, Shakespeare, or any other of the Elizabethan masters of lyric song. Thus the 1 A Charm (1065). 2 A Charm (1063). LYRICAL POEMS OF THE " HESPERIDES " 169 reaction against the Petrarchan tradition of lyric poetry begun by Donne and Jonson, is fully maintained in the Hesperides. Now and again, it is true, we overhear in that collection of verses echoes of the older music. Like many another lyrist of the time, he takes up the beauti- ful strain of Marlowe's " Come live with me and be my love " in his song. To Phyllis, to love and live with him (521), and rivals the earlier master in the idyllic beauty of the rustic associations which he recalls. Again, Campion's matchless lyric, " There is a garden in her face," with its refrain, " Till ' Cherry ripe ' themselves do cry," is echoed in the familiar " Cherry Ripe " ; and it is impossible to read Herrick's haunting " Mad Maid's Song " without thinking of Opheha. There is, further, a certain kinship between some of the lighter Ijmcs of the Hesperides and some of the madrigal-songs, especially those which break away from the Italian manner and set forth homely themes in simple and homely words. Some of Morley's canzonets and ballets on May-day rejoicings, or on the rustic game of barley-break, come, in spirit and expression, very near to Herrick's treatment of the same themes,^ and what Js-Jregweatlv— regard ed as the most perfect of aHnSisi d yllir. songs, Cnrinna's eoine' a-Maying {17 6), seems to have owed its inspiration to tne lollowing song from Thomas Bateson's First Set of English Madrigals (1604) : Sister, awake ! close not your eyes I The day her Ught discloses. And the bright morning doth arise Out of her bed of roses. See, the clear sun, the world's bright eye. In at our window peeping : Lo ! how he blusheth to espy Us idle wenches sleeping. 1 Compare the barley-break song in Morley's Canzonets or Little Short Aers (1597) (BoUe, p. 135), with Herrick's " Barley-Break " (loi). (2,489) 6 a 170 ROBERT HERRICK Therefore awake ! make haste, I say. And let us, without staying. All in our gowns of green so gay Into the park a-maying.'^ It would be interesting to have heard Herrick's opinions on the poetic genius of Donne, with whose lyrics he was certainly acquainted, and concerning whom, we may readily beUeve, he exchanged opinions with his master, Ben Jonson, during their hours together in the London tavern. The direct influence of Donne upon Herrick may be hard to determine, and in many respects their poetic tastes ran in opposite directions ; yet it must, I think, be admitted that the ever-present personal note of the author of the Hesperides, the individuaUty afid direct manner of his lyrics, were aU qualities which Donne had been the first to introduce into the Eliza- bethan lyric, and that without the example of Donne before him, Herrick would somehow have written dif- ferently. In this quality of self-revelation the Hesperides have much more in common with the Songs and Sonnets of Donne than with the Forest or the Underwoods of Jonson. At the same time, it is not easy to single out poems of Herrick which directly recall those of Donne,^ and it must be confessed that the qualities which are most frequently regarded as characteristic of Donne's genius — ^tus obscurity, his perverse ingenuity and meta- physic wit, his cramped diction and harsh rhythms — are directly opposed to the lucidity and fluid melody of the vicar of Dean Prior. Of Enghsh lyric poets, the only one that can be com- pared with the great lyrists of antiquity, in respect of the influence exerted upon the author of the Hesperides, was the one whom he so often and so loyally acclaimed as 1 BuUen, Lyrics from Elizabethan Song-Books, p. 198. " Exception must perhaps be made in the case of No Loathsomeness in Ixme (21), which recalls Donne's The Indifferent ; it is also probable that Herrick's Litany to the Holy Spirit (N.N. 41) was suggested by the Litany of Donne. LYBICAL POElfS CfF THE " HESPESIDES " 171 w>a?feT — B^ Jccsan. We can "weS Deherc fhax it was _l ^TiBcc 5 zr^.z^pz aaad example Thsi led Whu w3t: to dae jaiady --I - ^ — — = -inp of xhe Gaeek asd lt«amain Inic. that Aai HBTcrad "Hrm -wjdi xiis fasridiDiis serse of ammc TT5H,-menT- TbecSasEkasm DiHemckisiiatfrfABacBenB, Ca'mlhE- and HoEaoe^ "bin it is afeo xbai of JioiBan, who UMjiOuLCur ixte Petianbaa trMliiiiiMK: aud Scpboed 'rtym Itt mcse of ainiqi_ii_v . HDKeiw^ar, it "sras aWt^iaiirf to t iosoli, Tsizi2rc3t!d_ 11 is tme, liy Mi!iii*jiJip ssjuly of gHMJij*^ , ■B~iii ir^Ti Hsmcfc irsr irrtEi all tqe tJ^LJta t' aymnH-; rf the lExiTasii: sdmd sTDnndiniTL And in Sns Tsspen — e tobeai rtii' i Hrl lliat ■B±ssi is sinost Henidk's cejt -mai'ini^i^m of style — a .':-■" - — lavE o£ mvssirc — ss eae srtki ii-e ^aiES "srixh ids masier. lla^y a chEzir^ |Jina»jap scaixered Trn-n nsrh tHp H^erids is r?— zzis-en ^ iije FflViB^ die f7a&7aEeo&. asd '^e Jfxs^is of Be& Tccsaii. ami ni''^ assd ^jain "we •^1 ^ tea* ig^imlTiag ixif "^n^ar of Ids j'hi-*' XhlE Hie iilM ^. jlOEMS OP " HESPERIDES " 201 relationship with human affairs. They are thejairies of rustic superstition, diminutive beings who lurk in acorn- cups and hazel-nuts, and who, loving mischief and hating sluttery, gallop through the brains of sleeping lovers, beguile old gossips and bean-fed horses, and pinch as blue as bilberry the maids who have left their fires unraked and their hearths unswept. Thus at every point his fairy-world is made to converge upon that of mortal men. The fairies of Jonson's masques have the same intimate concern with human affairs and the same dehght in mischief-making ; but he insists less upon their diminutive stature, and, while keeping the background of rustic superstition, also contrives to introduce a cer- tain amount of classic colouring, and associates his native elves with the fauns and satyrs of ancient mythology. In the next generation this poetic handUng of fairy-lore underwent further modification, and between the years 1620 and 1630 there airose a considerable mass of fairy- poetry which, under the forms of epic, lyric, and descrip- tive verse, attracted the attention not only of young men Uke Herrick, but also of such a veteran as Michael Drayton. Within this decade were written Drayton's Nymphidia and A Fairy Wedding, the three fairy-poems of Herrick, the detailed account of the fairies' feasts and sports in the third book of William Browne's Britannia's Pastorals, the contributions of Steward and other anony- mous writers to the little fairy-volume of 1635, together with various other verses of this sort, found among the manuscripts of the period. The fairy-kingdom which is revealed to us in all these poems is the pure creation of ingenious wit, and its inhabitants are, in the words of Mercutio, the children of an idle dream, Begot of nothing but pure fantasy. The connection between these fairy-poems and popular folk-lore is somewhat slender, and nowhere is the fairy- world brought into touch with the lives of men and (8.489) 7 a 202 ROBERT HERRICK women. Drawing their inspiration from Shakespeare, above all from Mercutio's description of Queen Mab in Romeo and Juliet, the authors seized upon Shakespeare's representation of the diminutive size of the fairies, and taxed their ingenuity to the utmost in fashioning a fairy- world on a Lilliputian scale, and in observing a nice sense of proportion between the various parts. These poems are almost entirely lacking in those finer elements of romance with which Shakespeare has invested his elves, and the complete detachment of this fairy-world from the affairs of mortal men checks at its source the outflow of that delicate humour which, in A Midsummer Night's Dream, springs from the contemplation of human life through the eyes of beings who live upon a different plane from that of common mortality. Drayton, it is true, atones, in his Nynvphidia, for this lack of humour by the skilful use of the mock-heroic, but in this he stands alone. These fairy-poems are, therefore, triumphs of ingenious fancy, but little else. It can readily be imagined that the production of poems of this character proved a congenial task for a man of Herrick's temper. The lightness of his touch enabled him to tread easily along this gossamer track ; and, keeping closely within the bounds of descriptive verse, he threw off fairy-poems which exhibit nimbleness of fancy, sharpness of outhne, and a nice sense of pro- portion in miniature. At times, too, nobler qualities reveal themselves, as when, for instance, describing the grove of Oberon, he writes — Sweet airs move here, and more divine. Made by the breath of great-eyed kine. Who, as they low, impearl with milk The four-leaved grass, or moss like silk.^ Or again, in his description of the altar in Oberon's Chapel (223) — I Oberon's Palace (444). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF "HESPERIDES" 203 The fringe that circumbinds it, too. Is spangle-work of trembhng dew ; Which, gently gleaming, makes a show Like frost-work gUtt'ring on the snow. But full of charm as these Oberon verses are, we must regard them as so many oblations to a passing literary cult, rather than as transcripts of the poet's impressions of rustic superstition and ceremonial. Scattered through the Hesperides, however, are a number of other poeuis dealing with fairy- and folk-lore, which bring us much nearer to the life of the time and the imaginings of a rural community. Thus the swift anapaestic verses in which Herrick describes the night-hag stand out in bold contrast to the thia-spun fancies of the fairy-poems : The hag is astride This night for to ride. The devil and she together ; Through thick and through thin Now out and then in. Though ne'er so foul be the weather. A thorn or a burr She takes for a spur. With a lash of a bramble she rides now ; Through brakes and through briars. O'er ditches and mires. She follows the spirit that guides now. No beast for his food Dare now range the wood. But hush'd in his lair he lies lurking ; While mischiefe, by these. On land and on seas. At noon of night are a-working. The storm will arise And trouble the skies ; This night, and more for the wonder. The ghost from the tomb AflErighted shall come, Call'd out by the clap of the thunder.' I TU Hag (643). 204 ROBERT HERRICK Here we are face to face with the darker and more malignant forces of the spirit-world, and Herrick makes us realize the baneful influence of the night-hag, and her league with the powers of darkness, as surely as Shake- speare does in the portrayal of his weird sisters. Herrick has left no poems which treat of the famous fairy- or pixy-lore of the Dartmoor villages, but many of his verses recording country superstitions and ceremonies have a close coimection with Devonshire customs, and belong, beyond a doubt, to the time of his residence at Dean Prior. There, for instance, must have been written his verses on the Christmas ceremony for the fertiliza- tion of the fruit trees — Wassail the trees that they may bear You many a plum and many a pear : For more or fess fruits they will bring As you do give them wassailing. ^ The ceremony here referred to, that of firing shot from a gun into the branches of the fruit-trees at Christmas- tide, has lingered on in the neighbourhood of Dean Prior down to the present day. Mingling freely with his Devonshire parishioners in all the homely details of their Uves, Herrick finds an espe- cial delight in the ceremonious ritual with which they propitiated the occult powers of Nature, and has en- shrmed much of this ritual in his verses. Through these we learn much concerning the customs and ceremonies which were observed on such high festivals as Christmas and Candlemas-eve, Twelfth Ni^t and St Distaffs Day. A certain direct homeliness characterizes all these cere- monial verses, and they make us realize that the poet, during his long residence in the west-country village, had sent his roots deep down into the soil of rural England. The following verses written for Saint Distaff's Day, or the Morrow after Twelfth Day {1026) have something of the radness of Bums's Hallowed en : 1 A Charm (787). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF 'HESPERIDES" 205 Partly work and partly play Ye must on S. Distaff's Day : From the plough soon free "your teani, Then come home and fodder them. If the maids a-spinning go, Bum the flax and fire the tow ; Scorch their plackets, but beware That ye singe no maidenhair. Bring in pails of water, then. Let tile maids bewasb the men. Gi\-e S. Distaff all the right ; Then bid Christmas sport good-night ; And next morrow ever\- one To his own vocation. Akin to these ceremonial verses are the charm-poems which lie scattered throiogh the pages of the Hespendes. These not only serve to associate their author with the simple faiths and superstitions of rural England, but, as stated before, they connect him with one of the most primiti\-e forms of &ighsh \-erse. His charms to allay love (5S7), to make the bread rise (1063), to bring in the witch (890), or to secure stables against the mahce of the night-hag (891), are all of this character, and show that Enghsh folk-lore and pagan ritual appealed to him no less strongly than the ceremonial customs of ancient Rome. It is the custom to regard Herrick's epigrams as obnoxious tares sown by him in unguarded moments among the good red wheat of his garden ; and Mr Pollard, in his edition of tlie HesperiJes, has seen fit to root up these tares and cast them into an appendix by themselves. If by an epigram is meant simply a distich of scurrilous verse, concei\-ed in the worst manner of Martial, and directed against some hapless wTetch who has goaded the poet to sting, it would be desirable to pass by the epigrams of the Hesperides in silence. But if we use the word in the Greek rather than the Roman sense, and consider an epigram as a terse, highly compressed and deUcately finked poem which does not necessarily aim 2o6 ROBERT HERRICK at satiric point, then, so far from dismissing Herrick's epigrams as garbage, we must regard him as one of the greatest masters of the epigrammatic art, and as the only English poet who can bear comparison with the epigrammatists of the Greek Anthology. It can hardly be doubted that Herrick himself used the word epigram in the Roman and modem sense, or that he would have accepted Boileau's definition of it as " un bon mot de deux rimes om6," or, again, that of the English wit who wrote the following : The qualities rare in a bee that we meet In an epigram never should fail ; The body should always be little and sweet. And a sting should be left in its tail. To the titles of many of those verses of his which come under this definition he adds himself the word " epigram," ^ and fails to add it to those epigrammes d. la grecque which, in number as in poetic quaUty, far exceed the satiric verses directed against some offending person at Dean Prior or elsewhere. But this should not prevent us from applying the term to those exquisite cameos of verse — epitaphs, gnomic verses, short compli- mentary poems, prayers and dedications to pagan deities — ^which are too brief to be called l5aics, and which, as already stated, conform so closely to the manner of the Greek epigram. Before coming to a study of these, it is necessary to say something about epigram-writing in England in the preceding age. The epigram, like many another hterary form, sprang into being through the contact of the modem with the ancient world at the time of the Renaissance. Then it was that the Roman epigrammatists, in particular the greatest of them. Martial, came to be read and imitated ; and with them the Greek epigrammatists, whose poems were made accessible through the pubhcation 1 Two instances out of many are Upon Adam Peapes : Epig. (835), and Upon Hauch a Schoolmaster : Epig. (842). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF "HESPERIDES" 207 of the Planudean Anthology. This anthology, which had been compiled from the earher anthology of Cephalas by Maximus Planudes as late as the fourteenth century, was printed at Florence in 1484 by the Greek scholar, Janus Lascaris, and many other editions followed. ^ The composition of Latin epigrams, either after the Greek or the Roman model, thenceforward became the delight of humanists aU over Western Europe, the Scotsman, George Buchanan, and the Englishman, Sir Thomas More, being among those who practised the art. The first collection of English epigrams is that of John Heywood, pubUshed in black letter in 1562.* He wrote six huncfred epigrams in aJl, but they are such rather in name than in character. A large proportion of them are simply expansions of homely proverbs ; and of the rest, many are nothing more than anecdotes in verse. Scarcely any of them are personal, and although Heywood was, as his translation of Seneca's tragedies shows, a classical scholar, his epigrams give httle evidence of the study of Roman models. The epigram is recognized by Puttenham in his Arte of English Poesie (1589), who defines it as a form of poetry " in which every mery conceited man might, without any long studie or tedious ambage, make his frend sport and anger his foe, and give a prettie nip, or shew a sharpe conceit in few verses," * and it is interesting to find that, instead of limiting the epigram to purposes of satire, he includes both epitaphs and posies imder this term. The true satiric epigram in the Roman sense arose in England just at the end of the sixteenth century, and at the same time as the satire proper. In 1598 Thomas Bastard published his Chresioleros,* consisting of nearly three hundred epigrams, arranged in seven books ; and 1 See J. W. Mackail, Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology, pp. 21-23. 2 Republished by the Spenser Society, s Ed. Arber, p. 68. * Re-edited by E. V. Utterson, 1842. 2o8 ROBERT HERRICK about the same time were written the better known epigrams of Sir John Davies.^ Da vies claims to be the direct successor and also the eclipser of Heywood : Heywood that did in epigrams excel Is now put down since my light muse arose ; As buckets are put down into a weU, Or as a schoolboy putteth down his hose.^ His epigrams are all conceived in the manner of Martial, and are always satiric, and frequently foul-mouthed. In 1599 appeared John Weever's Epigrammes in the oldest cut and newest fashion, and with the turn of the century epigram- writing became the fashion in England. There are epigrams among the collected poems of Raleigh, and Donne practised this form of verse both in Latin and in English. In 1610 appeared John Heath's Two Centuries of Epigrammes, and the following year saw the publication of John Davies of Hereford's Scourge of Folly — a collection of two hundred and ninety-three epigrams, all satiric in character. In 1613 were pubhshed no less than three collections of epigrams, namely those of Sir John Harington, many of which were merely trans- lations from Martial, Henry Parrott's Laquei Ridiculosi, or Springes for Wood-cocks, and William Gamage's Linsi- Woolsie or two Centuries of Epigrammes ; these were succeeded in 1614 by a collection, entitled Rubbe and a Great Caste, by Thomas Freeman, and in 1616 appeared Ben Jonson's Epigrams in the folio edition of his works. Side by side with these collections of epigrams in the vernacular, others, written in Latin verse, were passing through the press. Campion had published a series of Latin epigrams as early as 1595, but the most famous of Latin epigrammatists was the Welsh schoolmaster, John Owen, whose verses won a European fame and were translated into several languages. His first three 1 Published in Dyce's edition of the Works of Christopher Marlowe. 2 Epigram zzix. NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF "HESPERIDES" 209 books of epigrams appeared in 1612, and were followed by others a little later. The epigrams of Ben Jonson, which, in the letter to the Earl of Pembroke, he calls " the ripest of my studies," are by no means entirely satiric. Many of them are, and their grossness, which provoked Sir Walter Scott to say that their author enjoyed "using the language of scavengers and night-walkers," equals and even exceeds the grossness of Herrick. But mingled with these are epigrams of a very diSerent character. There are, for instance, generous tributes of friendship to men hke Donne, Camden, Francis Beaumont, and Edward Alleyn, and complimentary verses to great nobles ; included amongst them, too, are the touching epitaphs on " My first Daughter," " My first Son," and that on Salathiel Pavy, the chorister. Finally, there are gnomic verses " On Death " and " On Life and Death," and epigrams in which the poet himself is the theme — " To my Book," " To my Muse." In aU this, however, he does not depart far from the Roman manner. Complimentary verses, tributes to friends, epitaphs, gnomic verses, and lines ad- dressed to himself and his book, may all be foimd among the epigrams of Martial, though their number is small in comparison with the satiric verses. Yet, when compared with earher Enghsh epigrammatists, Jonson must be credited with having widened the range of the epigram, and with having relieved the strain of scurrilous abuse by verses which appeal to the nobler side of man's nature. Meanwhile, a knowledge and appreciation of the Greek form of epigram was growing in England. Salmasius's discovery of the famous Palatine Anthology at Heidel- berg, in 1606, led to the circulation in manuscript of those epigrams not contained in the Planudean Anthology, and in 1629 the classical scholar and friend of Ben Jonson. Thomas Famaby, pubhshed in London a collection of epigrams from the anthologies, to which he also added a Latin translation. Eight years later, Abraham Wright, by the publication of his Dditiae Delitiarum, familianzed 310 ROBERT HERRICK classical students in England with the Latin epigrams, written after the Greek manner, by Italian, French, and English humanists of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. And although most of the seventeenth-century collections of EngUsh epigrams remained faithful to Martial and the satiric Roman manner, we nevertheless find, scattered through the works of some of the finer spirits of the age, a number of epigrams which recall the great anthologies of ancient Greece. One of the first poets to write epigrams in conformity with the Greek pattern was Drummond of Hawthomden. Among his collected poems, published in 1656, after his death, is a section entitled " Madrigals and Epigrams," the composition of which in all proba- biMty belonged to his youth. The title of the section is significant. As we have already seen, the seventeenth- century madrigal aimed at the terseness of the epigram, and in these verses of Drummond it is impossible to say, judging from their literary quality, which are madrigals, and which are epigrams. There is a certain epigram- matic finish in almost all of them, but it is the epigrams of the Greek Anthology, not those of Martial, which serve as model. These verses of Drummond are not personal, and, as a consequence, they do not seek after satiric point ; they may be described as short fanciful poems, which, both in matter and in style, conform to the manner of the countr5Tnen of Meleager and CaUimachus. Their literary quality is not high, but, as furnishing a contrast to the satiric epigram of the period, they are of some interest. The following will perhaps best illustrate Drummond's workmanship : Proxeus of Marble This is no work of stone. Though it seems breathless, cold, and sense hath none. But that false god which keeps The monstrous people of the raging deeps. Now that he doth not change his shape this while. It is thus constant more you to beguile. NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF "HESPERIDES" 211 Love Vagabonding Sweet nymphs, if as ye stray, Ye find the froth-born goddess of the sea, All blubber' d, pale, undone. Who seeks her giddy son, That little god of Jove, Whose golden shafts your chastest bosoms prove, Who, leaving all the heavens, hath run away ; If aught to him who finds him she'll impart, ' Tell her he nightly lodgeth in my heart. r In approaching the epigrams of Herrick, we may dismiss with a very few words those of a satiric character. There is Uttle wit in them to relieve the coarseness, and, strewn as they often are among the daintiest of his lyrics, they leave just the same unpleasant taste in the mouth which is produced by the satiric epigrams with which Catullus befouls the pages of his Carmina. The most that can be said for them is that they are neither more witless nor more foul than those written by many another epigrammatist of the Renaissance. It would seem, indeed, that coarse scurrility was at this time looked upon as an essential element in the making of a satiric epigram, and in reference to this it is interesting to notice that Campion introduces into his Observations on the Art of English Poesie epigrams quite as coarse as those of Jonson or Herrick, simply as Uterary exercises, and in order to illustrate the fitness of trochaic verse for this form of poetry. The satiric epigrams of Herrick have much in common with those of Martial, but it is only fair to add that the influence of the Roman epigrammatist is by no means limited to verses of this character. There is abundant evidence that the author of the Hesperides had read Martial with the greatest care, and that, whUe he repro- duced much of his indelicacy, he also had an eye for his terse mother-wit and vivacious fancy. One or two of his gnomic epigrams are literal translations from Martial, and 212 ROBERT HERRICK he likes nothing better than to introduce one of his felicitous phrases into his verses/ or to round off a couplet with some sententious maxim borrowed from the Roman. His epigram On Virtue (298) will illustrate the practice as well as any : Each must in virtue strive for to excel ; That man lives twice that lives the first life well — where the second Une is a translation of the following words : hoc est Vivere bis, vita posse priore frui. ' On other occasions he plays upon the fanciful idea of Martial's epigram, On a Bee enclosed in Amber ; ^ imitates, in his Upon Julia washing herself in the River (939), the twenty-second epigram of Martial's fourth Book ; and transfers the elaborate fancy of the epigram Ad Diadu- menum (iii. 65) to a graceful compUmentary poem addressed to his kinswoman, The most fair and lovely Mistress Anne Soame (375). One of the neatest of Henick's epigrams is that entitled His Wish {938) : Fat be my hind ; unlearned be my wife ; Peaceful my night, my day devoid of strife : To these a comely offspring I desire. Singing about my everlasting fire. Here, again, the suggestion comes from Martial's famous epigram to- Quintilian (ii. 90), and as already noticed, many of the ideas of the Panegyric on Sir Lewis Pem- berton (zyy) may be traced back, through Jonson's Penshurst, to Martial's description of the country-house of Faustinus (iii. 58). 1 e.g. : 'Tis sin to throttle wine " (502), a translation of Martial's Scelus est jugulare Falernum (Book i. 9). ' Epigrammata, x. 23. ' Epigrammata, iv. 32, and compare Herrick, The Amber Bead (817) and Upon a Fly (497). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF " HESPERIDES '' 213 But it is in those clear-cut epigrams in which his theme is the fate of his book of poems that Herrick comes nearest to Martial. He enters whole-heartedly into that half-serious and half-humorous mood in which Martial expresses his hopes of winning for himself a fair competence in this life and fame to all eternity. More than once in his epigrams To his Book he is trans- lating the Roman literally, and on many other occasions he is drawing suggestions from him. He reproduces the shrewd humour of Martial in the following epigram : 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.' and glances both at him and at Catullus in writing this : Make haste away, and let one be A friendly patron unto thee : Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee he Torn for the use of pastery : Or see thy injur' d leaves serve well To make loose gowns for mackerel : Or see the grocers in a trice Make hoods of thee to serve out spice. ^ But a large proportion of Heirick's epigrams have no connection with Martial, and are not conceived in the Roman manner at all ; in theme and in style they recall the Greek Anthology. The extent of Herrick's acquaint- ance with the epigrams of that anthology, either in the original Greek or in Latin translations, is hard to deter- mine. Mr Pollard has traced two or three of the epigrams to Greek originals,* but there is very httle of that trans- ference of some fortunate idea or phrase from the antho- 1 To his Booh (4) ; cf. Martial, Epigrammata, xi. i6. ' To his Book (844) ; cf. Martial, iii. 2, and Catullus, Carmina, xcv. ' See his notes to the following poems of the Hesperides, Nos. 121, 213, 271. 214 ROBERT HERRICK legists into the verses of the Hesperides, which we meet with in the case of Martial. The most, perhaps, that can be said is that the manner of the Greek anthologists was in the air, that it makes itself felt in the poems of Drummond and the later madrigalists, and that it reappears again and again in the epigrams of the Hes- perides. Whether he is writing on erotic or on gnomic themes, addressing complimentary verses to the living, or writing epitaphs for the dead, Herrick acquires some- thing of tiie Greek style. This is especially the case, too, with those prayers and dedicatory vows which he offers up to pagan gods and goddesses. These lack, of course, the element of sincerity which we meet with in similar epigrams of the Anthology, but it is surprising with what success Herrick feigns an accent of genuine feeling in such verses as the following : Mighty Neptune, may it please Thee, the rector of the seas, That my barque may safely run Through the watery region. And a tunny fish shall be Offered up with thanks, to thee.* Stately goddess, do thou please. Who art chief at marriages. But to dress the bridal bed When my love and I shall wed. And a peacock proud shall be Offered up by us to thee. * i Hymn to Neptune (325). With this we may compare the following epigram from the Palatine Anthology (vi. 251) : " Phoebus who holdest the sheer steep of Leucas, far seen of mariners and washed by the Ionian sea, receive of sailors this mess of hand-kneaded barley bread and a libation mingled in a Uttle cup, and the gleam of a brief-shining lamp, that drinks with half-saturate mouth from a sparing oil-flask ; in recompense whereof be gracious, and send on their sails a favourable wind to run with them to the harbours of Actium." (Translated by J. W. Mackail, Select Epigrams from the Greek Anthology, p. 126.) " Hymn to Juno (360). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF " HESPERIDES " 213 Occasionally Herrick's humour peeps out in these prayers to classic deities : Thy sooty godhead I desire Still to be ready with thy fire ; That, should my book despised be. Acceptance it might find of thee.' But in his Hymn to the Muses (657) he grows IjTrical in the warmth of his ardour : O you, the virgins nine. That do our souls incline To noble discipline. Nod to this vow of mine. Come then, and now inspire My viol and my lyre With your eternal fire. And make me one entire Composer in your choir. Then I'll your altars strew With roses sweet and new ; And ever Uve a true Acknowledger of you. The epigrams on the theme of love are inferior in quality to his love-lyrics, but through them he often conveys to his many mistresses a well-turned compli- ment. In The Rosary (45) it is Julia that is the recipient of the compliment : One ask'd me where the roses grew, I bade him not go seek. But forthwith bade my Julia show A bud in either cheek. In the following it is Electra : When out of bed my love doth spring, 'Tis but as day a-kindUng : But when she's up and fially dress' d 'Tis then broad day throughout the east.' I To Viikan (613). 2 upon Electm (404). 2i6 ROBERT HERRICK The pleasure which he finds in the sunshine of Sappho's smiles is implied in the following : Sappho, I will choose to go Where the northern winds do blow Endless ice and endless snow, Rather than I once would see But a winter's face in thee, To benumb my hopes and me. ' And in these lines to Anthea he recalls the fancifulness of the sonneteers : Sick is Anthea, sickly is the spring. The primrose sick, and sickly everything ; The while my dear Anthea does but droop. The tulips, luies, daffodils do stoop : But when again she's got her healthful hour, Each, bending then, will rise a proper flower.* Some of his epigrams are concerned with Nature, though there is far less real insight into the forms of natural life shown in his epigrams than in his lyrics. He prefers, instead, to let his fancy play, and to inform us how lihes came white " (190), " how roses came red " (706), or " how violets came blue " (260). But his epigram on the daffodil, though inferior to the lyric on the same flower (see page 195), deserves to be quoted here : When a daffodil I see. Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may what I must be : First, I shall decline my head ; Secondly, I shall be dead : Lastly, safely buried.' One is not often disposed to turn to Herrick in one's search for a philosophy of life, though it must be re- » To Sappho (803). a To Anthea (10J4). 3 DiviniUion by a Daffodil (107). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF " HESPERIDES " 217 membered that he loved to assume the rSle of feruled preceptor and inculcate some practical lessons of conduct by means of gnomic epigrams. But, except where he is borrowing a thought from Seneca or some other Roman moralist, his philosophy is not much more profound than that of Shakespeare's Corin, who knew that " the property of rain is to wet, and of fire to burn, and that a great cause of the night is lack of the sun." He gravely in- forms us that " all things decay with time," that health and a gentle disposition are among man's most prized possessions, that work must precede wages, and that victory is possible only after conflict. The faith by which he lived was not unUke that happy blend of Stoicism and Epicureanism which we meet with in the odes of Horace. He enjoys to the full the fleshpots of Egypt while they are within his reach, but his easy mind can also rest con- tent with the manna of the wilderness — the pulse and beans of Dean Prior. Estimating an equal mind and mastery over self at their true worth, he places " con- tent " above " cates " : 'Tis not the food, but the content That makes the table's merriment. Where trouble serves the board, we eat The platters there, as soon as meat. A little pipldn with a bit Of mutton or of veal in it. Set on my table, trouble-free. More than a feast contenteth me.* There is scarcely a trace of distinctively Christian ethics among these gnomic verses. When he feels par- ticularly snug in his Devonshire home, he offers up a hymn of thanksgiving to his Lares, his Chimney-keepers, (I dare not call ye chimney-sweepers)— 1 ConterU, not Cates (312). 2i8 ROBERT HERRICK and bedecks their idol brows with crowns of green parsley and garlic chives.^ His purpose is to make the most of this lifp, uncertain what may foUow : Let us now take time and play. Love and live here while we may : Drink rich wine, and make good cheer. While we have our being here ; For once dead and laid i' the grave. No return from thence we have.' Even in the noblest of his gnomic epigrams, that entitled The Christian Militant (323), there is, as already observed, more of the classic Stoicism — in utrumque paratus — than of the Sermon on the Mount : A man prepar'd against all ills to come. That dares to dead the fire of martyrdom ; That sleeps at home, and saiUng there at ease. Fears not the fierce sedition of the seas ; That's counter-proof against the farm's mishaps, Undreadful too of courtly^ thunderclaps ; That wears one face, like heaven, and never shows A change when fortune either conies or goes ; That keeps his own strong guard in the despite Of what can hurt by day or harm by night ; That takes and re-dehvers every stroke Of chance (as made up all of rock and oak) ; That sighs at others' death, smiles at his own Most dire and horrid crucifixion. Who for true glory suflEers thus, we grant Him to be here our Christian militant. No poet has ever been more ready than Herrick to place his muse at the service of his friends ; having little silver or gold to bestow, he leaves lyrics and epigrams for legacies, and promises the immortality of reflected fame to all whose names are enshrined in his verses. In these occasional poems, most of which are short and epi- 1 Hymn to the Lares (674). 2 To Sappho (691). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF " HESPERIDES " 219 grammatic, we find him ever prepared to rejoice with those that rejoice, and to weep with those that weep : he is the attendant spirit at christenings and funerals, offering in his graceful, affectionate, but never very pro- found way, felicitation or condolence. He is the " music of a feast," and the domiduca of home-coming brides ; he pays compUments to high-bom ladies with the easy grace of the practised cavalier, and to the memory of his many friends, kinsmen, and kinswomen, he builds a " college," a " white temple of my heroes," where, immortalized in verse, they shall dwell to all eternity.^ So many of these complimentary epigrams have been quoted in the first part of this volume, with the object of throwing light upon the poet's friendships, that it is unnecessary to refer to them again ; but space must be found for some study of his epitaphs. The epitaph was regarded as a form of epigram already by Puttenham,* and epitaph-writing was the fashion of Elizabethan England from Turberville to Jonson. Herrick was a master of the art, and many of his epitaphs are, in their simple beauty and exquisite pathos, equal to the best epitaphs of the Alexandrian anthologists. Except in his verses on his dying brother William (No. 186), his grief has little real intensity, and those epitaphs are accordingly the best where the situation calls for gentle pity rather than the tearless grief of pent-up passion. He wrote epitaphs on men and women who passed away fuU of years, and on mothers d5dng in childbed ; but his touch is surest where it is lightest — in his epitaphs on little children, or on maidens taken hence in the first bloom of womanhood : Here she lies, a pretty bud. Lately made of flesh and blood. Who as soon fell fast asleep. As her little eyes did peep. 1 See the poem, To his honoured kinsman. Sir Richard Stone (496), 2 Arte of English Poesie, chap, xxviii. 220 ROBERT HERRICK Give her strewings, but not stir The earth that Ughtly covers her.i Here a solemn fast we keep ; While all beauty Ues asleep Hush'd be all things — ^no noise here, But the toning of a tear : Or a sigh of such as bring Cowshps for her covering.' It is characteristic of Herrick that he should write epitaphs on himself. His address To Robin Redbreast (50) reveals that delicate fancy and sureness of artistic touch which are the secret of so many of his best verses : 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. In a rather more serious mood he writes His Own Epitaph (617) : As wearied pilgrims, once possest Of long'd-for lodging, go to rest, So I, now having rid my way. Fix here my button' d staff and stay. Youth, I confess, hath me misled ; But age hath brought me safe to bed. From these epitaphs on his own decease we pass, in the last place, to those epigrams — some of them not exceeding the single distich — " On Himself." It was the practice of the Anacreontic poets and of Catullus to write epigrams of this character, but they are seldom met with in English poetry outside of the pages of the Hesperides. Herrick's epigrams " On Himself " display ' Upon a Child that died (310). ^ An Epitaph upon a Virgin (450). NON-LYRICAL POEMS OF " HESPERIDES " 221 the personal touch of his verses in its purest form. Occasionally there is a certain element of quiet humour in these poems, as for instance in the following, written after completing the Hesperides : The work is done ; young men and maidens set. Upon my curls the myrtle coronet, Wash'd with sweet ointments : thus at last I come To suffer in the Myses' martyrdom ; But this with comfort, if my blood be shed. The Muses will wear blacks when I am dead.' ' But more often the note is one of wistfulness — regret for the years that have sUpped from his grasp, or for the loss of the treasured gift of song : Ask me why I do not sing To the tension of the string, As I did not long ago. When my members fuU did flow ? Grief, ay me ! hath struck my lute And my tongue, at one time, mute.' A wearied pilgrim, I have wandered here ■ Twice five-and-twenty, bate me but one year ; Long I have lasted in this world, 'tis true. But yet those years that I have hved, but few. Who by his grey hairs doth his lusters tell, Lives not those years, but he that Uves them well. One man has reach' d. his sixty years, but he Of all those threescore, has not liv'd half three. He hves, who hves to virtue ; men who cast Their ends for pleasure, do not Uve, but last.' The epigrams of the Hesperides wiU never win from the reader the same recognition that the l37rics have won, for they are inferior to them in variety of rhythmic effect, ^ On Himself {1128). 2 On Himself (333). 1 0n Himself (1088). 222 ROBERT HERRICK in warmth of emotion, and in sustained power. But as master of an art rarely practised in England with much success, Herrick has acquired a new title to fame. And at the same time these epigrams, by virtue of the resem- blance which they bear to those of Greek literature in the Alexandrian period, deepen our sense of the classical qualities of their author's genius. CHAPTER IV THE " NOBLE NUMBERS " It is sometimes stated that the secular poems, in par- ticular the love-ljrrics, belong to Herrick's early years, and the Noble Numbers to the time when he was a priest in orders. We have already seen that the first half of this statement is not entirely correct, but exception can scarcely be taken to the second half of it. It is possible that some of the religious carols which find a place in the Noble Numbers, and which were set to music and sung before the King at Whitehall, were composed while Herrick still lived in the neighbourhood of the Court, but the bulk of his religious verses were in all probability written at Dean Prior. In his Farewell to Poetry, written to all appearance at the time when he took orders, he teUs us that his mind is now fUled with " sublime respect and conscience unto priesithood," and that henceforth he must part company with' that Muse of Helicon with whom he has outworn The fresh and fairest flourish of the mom With flame and rapture ; but he goes on to say — when my diviner muse Shall want a handmaid (as she oft will use). Be ready, thou for me, to wait upon her, Though as a servant, yet a maid of honour .^^ 1 " Poems not included in the Hesperides," ed. Pollard, ii. 367. 224 ROBERT HERRICK As we have already seen, the vow to part company with the Muse of Helicon was not kept, but there can be Uttle doubt that we owe the Nohle Numbers chiefly to the fact that Herrick was by profession a clergyman. In seeking the help of his diviner muse, whose habitation is not Mount Helicon, but " the secret place of Oreb or of Sinai," he was also faUing into hne with the practice of many other poets of the day. The reUgious lyric of the seventeenth century is in its way as unique a creation as the sonnet-sequences of the Elizabethan age ; in- timately associated with the High Church movement of the Carohne age, its nearest parallel is to be found in the reUgious l5mc of the High Church movement of the early Victorian era. The religious l3nic in the age of EUza- beth is of small accoimt. The composition of metrical versions of the Psalms was then in vogue, and among the early Elizabethan song-books — for example, William Byrd's Psalms, Sonets, arid Songs of Sadness and Pietie ^ (1587), and John Mundy's Songs and Psalmes * (1594) — we find a number of the Psalms set to madrigal music, and arranged for part-singing. We also know that in England, as weU as in France, the sonnet came to be used for the expression of reUgious sentiment. In 1591^ Henry Constable pubUshed his Spiritual Sonnettes to the Honour of God and His Sayntes ; * in 1593, appeared the Divine Centurie of Spirituall Sonnets by Bamabe Barnes, and in 1597, Henry Lok's Sundrie Sonnets of Christian Passions. A year or two later, Gervase Mark- ham pubUshed two collections of religious lyrics, written in a six-Une stanza and entitled Tears of the Beloved (1600) and Mary Magdalen's Tears (1601) respectively. But the Uterary quality of these collections of reUgious verses is exceedingly low, and the only l3nics of a reU- gious character in the EUzabethan age which have the breath of true poetic Ufe in them are those of the Jesuit 1 See Bolle, Die gedruckten englischen Liederbiicher bis 1600, p. a. s Ibid., p. 77. s Ed. W. C. HazUtt. THE "NOBLE NOIBERS " 225 Fathi^, Robert Southwell, idio stands far apart from tiie main tendencies of the age m wbidi he fived. The seventeenth century saw a rapid growth of this kind of lyric poetry. Jonson's Poems of Devotion are too few in number to be taken into account here, but reference may be made to the Divine and Moral Songs of Campion, which appeared side by ^de with his madrigals and csazanets in 1613. In his reiig^knis, as in his secolax, work, Camj«m is a tran^tional figure. Some of his ^vine s(Hig> are in the maimer of the old psalm-lyrics of Byrd or Mnndy, but in the following, and in otheis like it, we discern the first begimdn^ of a rehgioos iync, touched with that p^sonal feding ^vhidi a few years later was to rise to intensest fervoor : Mew me. Lord, a wcvk of Thine. Shall I then Ue drown'd in ni^tt ? Mi^tt Thy grace in me bat sMne, I sbould seem made all of light. Bat my sonl still zvxiais so On tiie poiscm'd baits of ma. That I strange and n^y grow ; AD. is dark and fool within. Cleanse me. Lord, fliat I may kneel At TUne attar, pure and -widte ; They that once Tmr mercies fed Coze no more on earth's deS0it. Worldly joys, like shadows, fade. When the ieavesiY Ught appears ; But the covenants Tnoa hast made. Endless, know not days nor years. In Thy Word, Lord, is my tmst. To Tly merdes fast I f^ ; Tbou^ I am but day and dnst. Yet Thy grace can hit me fai^ fee© 8 226 ROBERT HERRICK But the true founder of the seventeenth-century reHgious lyric was Donne, some of whose Divine Poems, though not published until 1633, were written before 1607. Donne's influence upon the Caroline religious lyrists — Herbert, Crashaw, and Vaughan — ^in respect of style has often been alluded to, but it is less generally recognized that he is their master in the art of infusing personal lyric emotion into religious poetry. There is nothing of the metrical psalm in the Holy Sonnets or the Litany of Donne ; running through these poems is the note of poignant individuaUty, and as we read them, we feel ourselves brought face to face with a human soul in the throes of contrition, or, again, rising to a mood of seraphic exaltation. We hear the voice of a repentant sinner, lamenting his wasted youth, in his Hymn to God, the Father : Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run. And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done. Thou hast not done. For I have more. Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won Others to sin, and made my sin their door ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun A year or two, but wallowed in a score ? When Thou hast done. Thou hast not done. For I have more. I have a sin of fear that when I have spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ; But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore ; And having done that. Thou hast done ; I fear no more. ■ Nor is Donne content with mere emotion in his reli- gious Ijnrics. Here, as in his secular verse, he loves to 1 Donne's Poems, ed. E. K. Chambers, i. Z13. THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 227 pack the lines with profound and original thoughts, aiming rather at compression than clearness of utterance. His most sustained religious lyric is his Litany, the following stanzas of which well illustrate this quality of his verse : From being anxious, i or secure. Dead clods of sadness, or light squibs of mirth, From thinking that great courts immure All, or no happiness, or that this earth Is only for our prison framed. Or that Thou'rt covetous To them whom Thou lov'st, or that they're maim'd From reaching this world's sweet who seek Thee thus. With aU their nught, good Lord, deliver us. From needing danger to be good. From owing Thee yesterday's tears to-day. From trusting so much to Thy blood. That in that hope we wound our soul away. From bribing Thee with alms, to excuse Some sin more burdenous. From hght affecting, in rehgion, news. From thinking us sdl soul, neglecting thus Our mutual duties. Lord, deUver us. • From Donne's Divine Poems to George Herbert's Temple (1633), and thence to Crashaw's Steps to the Temple {1646) and the religious lyrics of Vaughan and Traheme, is but an easy step, and with these later publications we reach the fuU florescence of the seventeenth-century religious lyric. Herrick's NoUe Numbers have far less in common with the Caroline reUgious lyric than his secular lyrics have with those of the Cavalier singers, though it must be allowed that, with the publication of the Hesperides in 1648, these two forms of lyric poetry meet and mingle. Of the spiritual wrestlings which are revealed in Her- bert's Temple, of the rapt ecstasy of Crashaw, or the 1 Poems, i. 181. 228 ROBERT HERRICK mystic soarings of Traheme or Vaughan, Herrick knew nothing at aU. Among his Noble Numbers are many poems of unquestioiiable orthodoxy, in which he sets forth the attributes of God, or depicts the warfare of soul with sense ; and there are others in which he shows his acquaintance with the writings of the great Church Fathers — St Augustine, St Ambrose, St Bernard, " learned Basil," and " learned Aquinas." But these orthodox verses disclose very little of the man's rare personality, and show no trace of religious emotion. And no sooner does his true character appear than his orthodoxy falls from him like a mask, and the pagan Flamen stands revealed to our gaze. His Thanksgiving to God for his House (see page 83) is almost identical in spirit with his hymns to the Lares ; and his famous Litany to the Holy Spirit (41), beautiful as it is, is wholly unlike that of Donne, and is distinguished more for its naive himiour than for its piety : When the artless doctor sees No one hope, but of his fees. And his sldll runs on the lees. Sweet Spirit, comfort me \ When his potion and his piU Has, or none, or little skill. Meet for nothing but to kill. Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When the passing bell doth toll. And the furies in a shoal Come to fright a parting soul. Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! When the tapers now bum blue. And the comforters are few. And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 229 When the priest his last hath prayed, And I nod to what is said, 'Cause my speech is now decayed. Sweet Spirit, comfort me ! Nothing was further from Herrick's mind than ir- reverence when he wrote verses such as these ; the truth is that his conception of religion, in spite of his reading of the Fathers, was scarcely more mature than that of a child of eight. His God is neither the stem Taskmaster of the Puritans, nor the ineffable King whom Laud taught his followers to worship in " the beauty of holi- ness." He is an amiable Being with whom the poet stands on very intimate terms ; God has given him his bin, his pipkin, his piggin, and his teeming hen, and for these he renders the thanks that are due ; he even invites Him to read his book of verses, assuring Him, with a naivete that almost takes one's breath away, that He will take no harm from their impurities ! Pardon me, God, once more I Thee entreat. That I have placed Thee in so mean a seat ; Where round about Thou seest but all things vain, Uncircumcis'd, unseason'd and profane. But as Heaven's pubUc and immortal eye Looks on the filth, but is not soil'd thereby. So Thou, my God, may'st on this impure look. But take no tincture from, my sinful book. ' In another poem. To God (232), he entreats Him to speak familiarly with him of love, promising, for his own part, to reply By way of Epithalamy ; and we know what Herrick's epithalamies are like ! The Christ whom he adores is the child of Bethlehem, a " Twelfth-tide King " to be honoured with wassailings, and to whom he bids a child bring childish presents — a. 1 To God (113). 230 ROBERT HERRICK flower, a coral, and a whistle — after the manner of the Secunda Pastorum of the Wakefield cycle of Mystery Plays. Or, if he presents to us the Christ of Calvary, it is under the figure of a tragic Roscius : The Cross shall be Thy stage, and Thou shalt there The spacious field have for Thy theatre. Thou art that Roscius and that marked-out man That must this day act the tragedian To wonder and afhightment ; Thou art He Whom all the flux of nations comes to see. Not those poor thieves that act their parts with Thee.i He is conscious of sin, and in one of his quaintest poems he confesses that his heart is an Augean stable : Lord, I confess that Thou alone art able To purify this my Augean stable ; Be the seas water, and the land all soap. Yet if Thy blood not wash me, there's no hope.' But this sense of sin does not disquiet him for long ; he recognizes the place of a Saviour in the scheme of redemption, and is as sure of salvation as any elect Anabaptist. Hell, he informs us, is " the place where whipping-cheer abounds," ' but it has no terrors for him, and he intones his creed with imfaltering voice : — I do believe that die I must, I And be return' d from out my dust : I do believe that when I rise, Christ I shall see with these same eyes. I do believe that I must come. With others, to the dreadful doom. I do believe the bad must go From thence to everlasting woe ; I do believe the good, and I, Shall live with Him eternally. 1 Rex tragicus ; or, Christ going to His Cross (263). 2 To his Saviour (73). 3 Hell (120). THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 231 I do believe I shall inherit Heaven by Christ's mercies, not my merit. I do beUeve the One in Three, And Three in perfect unity : Lastly, that Jesus is a deed j Of gift from God : and here's my creed. In one of his most beautiful Ij^rics he describes the joys of that Heaven for which he is bound. The abode of the blessed is a white island where immortal spirits pursue immortal pleasures and where no monstrous fancies intrude : In this world, the isle of dreams. While we sit by sorrow's streams. Tears and terrors are our themes Reciting : But when once from hence we fly. More and more approaching nigh Unto young Eternity Uniting : In that whiter island, where Things are evermore sincere ; Candour here, and lustre there Delighting : There no monstrous fancies shall Out of hell an horror call. To create, or cause at all. Affrighting : There in calm and cooling sleep We our eyes shall never steep. But eternal watch shall keep. Attending 232 ROBERT HERRICK Pleasures such as shall pursue Me immortalized, and you ; And fresh joys as never to Have ending.^ The childlike mind of Herrick, in all that pertains to the Christian faith, is disclosed in poem after poem of the Noble Numbers, and as we contemplate it we wonder what the sermons were like which he preached to his Devonshire parishioners. He turned this chUdHke mind to good account in his " graces for children," the most familiar of which might have come straight from A Child's Garden of Verses. 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.' But in the following verses To God, which are not placed on the lips of a child, it is hard to believe that we are listening to a contemporary of George Herbert or Bishop Hall : Lord, do not beat me. Since I do sob and cry. And swoon away to me Ere thou dost threat me. Lord, do not scourge me If I by lies and oatiis Have soil'd myself or clothes. But rather purge me.' In the Noble Numbers the epigrams are much more numerous than the lyrics, and many of them are confined to a single distich. Most of them add nothing to Her- rick's fame as a poet, but occasionally they convey some ^ The White Island; or. Place of the Blest (xzS). ' 2 Another Grace for a Child (95). 8 To God (49). THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 233 new thought, or some old thought set forth in a new and striking way. The following may serve as ex- amples : God, when He takes my goods and chattels hence. Gives me a portion, giving patience : What is in God is God ; if so it be He patience gives. He gives Himself to me.i There is no evil that we do commit. But hath th' extraction of some good from it : As when we sin, God, the great Chemist, thence Draws out th' elixir of true penitence.^ The most sustained of the lyrics in the Noble Numbers are the two dirges — The Dirge of Jephthah's Daughter (83) and The Dirge of Dorcas (123). The beauty of the latter is somewhat marred by the same kind of material- ism which we find in the poet's " Thanksgiving to God for his House," but the former is quite free from this. It represents the Jewish maidens gathered about the grave of the sacrificed virgin, shedding bitter tears for the sister they have lost, and strewing daffodils and other flowers about her tomb. There is at times a curious, but not unseemly, aroma of the bridal-chamber in this funeral dirge, but the tone of it is elegiac throughout, and the concluding stanzas are imbued with all the caressing fancy and exquisite pathos of Herrick's lyric genius : Sleep in thy peace, thy bed of spice. And make tms place all paradise. May sweets grow here, and smoke from hence Fat frankincense : Let balm and cassia send their scent From out thy maiden-monument. May no wolf howl, or screech-owl stir A wing about thy sepulchre ! 1 Upon God (87). 2 Sin (196). 234 ROBERT HERRICK No boisterous winds, or storms, come hither To statve or wither Thy soft sweet earth ! but, Uke a spring, Love keep it ever flourishing. May all shy maids, at wonted hours, Come forth to strew thy tomb with flow'rs : May virgins, when they come to mourn, Male-incense burn Upon thine altar ! then return. And leave thee sleeping in thy urn. Herrick'S supremacy over all his contemporaries in the field of lyric poetry is partly due to the greater volume and variety of his poems, partly also to the fact that he was before all things a consummate artist. The mob of gentlemen who, in these cavaliering days, spent idle moments in tossing off verses of gallantry to their mis- tresses, prided themselves upon nothing so much as the ease and speed with which they wrote. One of the most famous of them, " natural, easy Suckling," even brought it as a reproach against Carew that — the issue of 's brain Was seldom brought forth but with trouble and pain.' But Herrick, spending long years amid the seclusion of his country vicarage, and treasuring his poems with idolatrous affection, thought otherwise. The easy flow of his lyrics gives, perhaps, the impression that they were written in haste ; but if so, they were corrected at leisure, and not given to the world until they had reached that state of chiselled perfection which satisfied the demands of a 'poet who was as fastidious as Gray : Better 'twere my book were dead. Than to Uve not perfected.'' 1 A Sessions of the Poets. 2 His Request to Julia (59). THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 235 In addition to the authentic text of 1648, we possess, as we have already seen, earlier printed versions of some of the Hesperides poems ; moreover, there are to be found among the Ashmole, Harley, Egerton, and Rawlin- son MSS. earlier renderings of some of the most sustained of Herrick's verses, including the Farewell and Welcome to Sack, some of the fairy poems, and the Nuptial Song on Sir Clipseby Crew. These versions have been care- fully collated with those of the 1648 volume by Dr Grosart and Mr Pollard, and furnish us with abundant evidence of the author's unsparing use of the file. The twenty- three stanzas of the Harleian MS. version of the " Nuptial Song " are reduced in the Hesperides to six- teen, though some of the rejected stanzas seem to our less exacting taste almost faultless. Elsewhere we find single lines, and sometimes whole stanzas, entirely remodelled, and a single illustration will show how much they gain by the process. The fourteenth stanza of the epistle To Mr John Weekes (336) reads as follows in the Egerton MS. : When the high Helen her fair cheeks Showed to the army of the Greeks. At which I'll rise (Blind though as midnight in my eyes). And, hearing it. Flutter and crow, and in a fit Of young concupiscence, and feel New flames within the aged steal. In the Hesperides it is altered to the following : When the fair Helen from her eyes Shot forth her loving sorceries. At which I'll rear Mine aged Umbs above my chair. And, hearing it. Flutter and crow as in a fit Of fresh concupiscence, and cry : No lust there's like to poetry. ^35 ROBERT HERRICK One of the most radical and most interesting changes introduced by Herrick into the Hesperides is that which we encounter in the poem, entitled The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium (575). This was first pubUshed in 1640, and contained the following lintes describing the modem dramatists who sit with Homer, Virgil, " soft Catullus," " sharp-fang'd Martial," and other great classic poets in the green meadows of Elysium : Among which synod, crown' d with sacred bays And flatt'ring ivy, we'll have, to recite their plays, Shakespeare and Beaumont, swans to whom the spheres Listen while they call back the former years To teach the truth of scenes. Eight years later, it seems that Herrick had come round to the common opinion of the age that Fletcher was a greater dramatist than Shakespeare, and so he alters the verses as follows : Among which glories, crown' d with sacred baj« And flatt'ring ivy, to recite their plays — Beaumont and Fletcher, swans to whom all ears Listen, while they, Uke sirens in their spheres. Sing their Evadne. We may think what we like of the poet's dramatic taste, but must acknowledge how much the later rendering surpasses the earlier in respect of style and rhjrthm. Illustrations of the emendations made by the poet might be furnished to any extent, but they all tell the same tale — gain in terseness and simplicity of utter- ance, and, likewise, in purity and variety of rhythm. The most obvious quality of Herrick's style is its freedom from the fashionable mannerisms of his day. There is at times a certain quaintness in his diction, and, more rarely, a Jonsonian fondness for inversions. Mr Courthope has also drawn attention to his occasional THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 237 use of strange words like " carcanet " and " pannicle," and to his fondness for diminutives like " cherrylet " and " pipkinnet " ; but in the twelve hundred poems of the Hesperides there is scarcely a trace of the strained conceits, the violent comparisons, the recondite allusions, and all the rest of the metaphysic wit of the fantastic school of poetry then in vogue. To the allurements of this seventeenth-century poetic diction even so sure an artist as Milton fell a victim in the early portion of his career, but Herrick, from first to last, kept himself free from blemish. At the same time, he is free from the affectations of the EUzabethans. He admits into his verses neither the archaisms and provincialisms of Spenser, nor the indirectness and over-subtlety of the sonneteers ; and everything in the nature of word- quibbling he regards with just abhorrence. In the Ash- mole MS. version of A Country Life (106) there occurs the following hne : Vice is vice-gerent at the court. Recognizing afterwards that his readers might accuse him of punning, he recasts it thus : Vice rules the most or all at court. The secret of his art consists in the perfect adjustment of the style to the theme. In lyrics like The May-pole is up (695), The Hag is astride (643) or The Peter-Penny (762), where he is imitating the rhythm of the popular song, his diction is also extremely simple. Simplicity is Ukewise sought in most of his song-l5nics, and the beauty of the song To Anthea (267), The Night-Piece to Julia (619), or The Mad Maid's Song (412), is largely due to the magic effect produced by the homely words. In poems of this nature he relies upon monosyllabic words to a greater extent than any other EngUsh poet, and it is not at all difficult to find among the Hesperides whole 238 ROBERT HERRICK stanzas like the following, where nothing but mono- syllables appear : A heart as soft, a heart as kind, A heart as sound and free As in the whole world thou canst find. That heart I'U give to thee.^ Again, in the poem His Grange, or Private Wealth (724), which contains one hundred and forty-five words, only fifteen of them run to more than a single syllable. Where, however, he departs most widely from the manner of the song-l37ric, as, for instance, in his odes and elegies, his style grows more elaborate. StiU pursu- ing clearness and precision of utterance, and avoiding everything in the nature of preciosity, he at the same time manages to introduce high-soundrag latinized words, enriches the verses with the treasures of classic story, and makes a bold use of figures of speech. The result is that his verses acquire a certain massiveness, a reson- ance, and an august, imperial splendour, which place them at a wide distance from the homely strains of his songs. We meet with this heightened style in his Fare- well and Welcome to Sack, and in the lines entitled The Apparition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium (575). His style as a whole is not particularly rich in metaphor, but in some of his more sustained flights of song he uses it with magnificent effect, and in such a stanza as the following, we see him passing from one metaphor to another with the ease and boldness of Shakespeare : Alas ! for me, that I have lost E'en all almost ; Sunk is my sight, set is my sun, And all the loom of life undone : The staff, the elm, the prop, the shelf ring waU Whereon my vine did crawl. Now, now blown down ; needs must the old stock fall.' 1 To Anthea (267). 2 An Ode to Endytmon Porter upon his Brother's Death (185). THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 239 A fondness for classical allusions is one of the marked characteristics of his style, and gives to it much of its classical colour. These are not the trite references which we meet with in much of the poetry of the Renaissance ; without being recondite or obscure, they bear witness to his sound scholarship, and show, in particular, his curious delight in ancient ritual. These allusions are most noticeable in that early poem, A Country Life : to his Brother, Thomas Herrick (106), and in His Age : To Mr John Wickes (336) ; and again, in his impassioned Farewell to Poetry, from which the following lines are taken : And in that mystic frenzy we have hurled. As with a tempest, nature through the world. And in a whirlwind twirl' d her home, aghast At that which in her ecstasy had past. Thus crown'd with rosebuds, sack, thou mad'st me fly Like fire-drakes, yet didst me no harm thereby, O thou almighty nature, who didst give True heat wherewith humanity doth hve Beyond its stinted circle, giving food. While fame and resurrection to the good ; Shoring them up 'bove ruin till the doom. The general April of the world doth come. That makes all equal. Many thousands should, Were't not for thee, have crumbled into mould, And with their sere-clothes rotted, not to show Whether the world such spirits had or no ; Whereas by thee those and a million since Nor fate, nor enyy, can their fames convince. Homer, Musseus, Ovid, Maro, more Of those Godful prophets long before Held their eternal fires, and ours of late (Thy mercy helping) shall resist strong fate, Nor stoop to the centre, but survive as long As fame or rumour hath or trump or tongue.' ■Mn<;t of the popms describinpf the rustic festival s of.., -thft mnntqwiflff are ajTsiiiiplH n.t, li Jyr^taTng-HpJaiit pvp^ Tiprp , 1 " Poems not included in the Hesperides," Pollard, ii. 264. 240 ROBERT HERRICK t h ere are -.: fenes when reminiscences of the ceremonial rites of a. bygone a^e co m e back to hitn, ann tnpn hiT* imagination glows with a rare incandesc enc e and his ■Style takes on a riche r minnr Thus many 6f t^ p gtanyac pf that Hmpif) p npnj y Cnrin'nn'f (jni'infi n Mnym[j (rnS)^ jJjp — thcmo of which is peculiarly English, have dii mid u uU ted- ^assicaaana, and the Jigurative opening lines m ight have come straight from Ovid : Get up, get up for shame, the blooming mom Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colours through the air : Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangUng herb and tree. The yrace and purity of Herrick's d iction are the natural complement to tne grace and pufltV 6f hlS '^'^fS^ "He lived in an age when Ivric poetry wa.s wn ndf-rfully plgg+1^; injr espect of the m etric al moulds into wh ich it" .flnwprl. TTTp Tyranny OT fhf> sntinpl-sl iiir[ iiit^ iajuu Al/fJiy and no other rigid form of verse had arisen to take its place. The seventeenth-century poet enjoyed perfect freedom in regard to form, and there was nothing to impede him in his desire to win for his lyric emotion that form which suited it best. Occasionally we find the freedom abused. I am not aware that any of the poets of this age followed the precept and example of Putten- ham who, in his Arte of English Poesie, devised poems in the shape of triangles, cylinders, lozenges, and spheres,^ and declared that though at first there " wil seeme nothing pleasant to an English eare, time and usage wil make them acceptable inough ; " bu,t George Herbert carves his verses into the shape of altars and " Easter wings," and even Herrick aspires to a pillar and a cross.^ But these were only momentary aberrations, and do not need to be taken into account here. 1 See chapter xi., " Of Proportion in Figure." * See The Pillar of Fame (1129) and Tlie Cross {Noble Numbers, 368). THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 241 Henick had at his command an immense host of lyric measures, some of them of his own creation,, and aU of them skilfully adapted to the Ijndc theme which is being set forth. In his choice of metres, he shows once again that between him and the Elizabethan lyrists there was not much in common. He will have nothing to do with the sonnet or canzone, nor do the slow-moving measures of the early Ehzabethan lyric — ^Alexandrine, septenarius, and poulter's measure — ^which still drag their weary chains through some of the Ijnics of Ccunpion, find favour with him. Verses of more than five beats are extremely rare in the Hesperides, and a striking feature of Herrick's metric art is his fondness for a short line in iamhjr m - trochaic. TP f'^siiJe.^^ Y g! ^ "^ foufT three, or two accenS~ are extremely common, a nd in his poem. Upon Ms Departure Hence (475), he keeps throughout to a line of a single accent. In his use of the heroic couplet, he seems to have followed the tendency of his age, which was slowly hammering the Augustan distich out of the flowing heroic verse of Chaucer ; the structure of his earhest verses in this measure — e.g., the Farewell to Sack — is stiU free, but in his later poems, such as The Christian Militant, the pause at the end of the couplet is rarely missed, and there is a nicer balance of parts. The dehcacy of his ear and the fineness of his work- manship are best displayed in his strophic poems. Like most of the poets of the time, he keeps chiefly to iambic and trochaic measures. Dactyls are rarely met with in his poems,^ and anapaests are reserved almost entirely for certain song-l37rics in which he is employing the rhythms of popular airs ; ^ but by the use of feminine rhymes, and by bringing in to proximity lines of different 1 His most effective use of the dactyl is in his poem To his Mistress (94) : Choose me yom: valentine. Next let us marry — Love to the death will pine If we long tarry. ' Instances are Ceremonies for Christtnas (784), The hag is astride (643). 242 ROBERT HERRICK thp rnmhinatinn of vp.rspg with fnnr ;^frf'ntc gnf^ i^'erses writh turn irrpntc givp=; a Hpliglitfnl rhythm tr, |)fg r/ifliwfe- giving to God /or his House {Noble Numbers. 47) : Lord, thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell ; A little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof. Under the spars of which I lie Both soft and dry ; . . . and equally happy is the union of verses of one, two, and three accents in To keep a True Lent [Noble Numbers, 228): Is this a fast, to keep The larder lean ? And clean From fat of veals and sheep ? Is it to quit the dish Of flesh, yet still To fill The platter high with fish ? No ; 'tis a fast to dole Thy sheaf of wheat. And meat. Unto the hungry soul. It is to fast from strife. From old debate, And hate ; To circumcise thy Ufe. To show a heart grief-rent ; To starve thy sin. Not bin ; And that's to keep thy Lent. A still more signal illustration of this device of metric art is to be foimd, not imfittingly, in one of the several THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 243 poems written in honour of Ben Jonson, from whom he had learnt so much of the harmonies of verse. Here a sweUing effect is produced by the gradual lengthening of the line as the stanza advances, the rhythmic waves increasing in volume like the breakers of an incoming tide : Ah Ben! Say how or when Shall we, thy guests, Meet at those Ijrric feasts Made at the Sun, The Dog, the Triple Tun ? Where we such clusters had As made us nobly wild not mad ; And yet each, verse of thine Out-did the meat, out-did the frolic wine.' All his poems are in rhyme, but occasionally he intro- duces, Kke Milton in Lycidas, a rhymeless verse into his more highly-wrought stanzas. This is the case with the first hne of His Recantation (246) : Love, I recant. And pardon crave That lately I ofEended ; But 'twas Alas! To make a brave. But no disdain intended. Nor is he afraid of placing verses which rhj^me together at a great distance from one another, the delicacy of his ear assuring him that the eifect of the rhyme will not be lost. Thus in the poem, To Daffodils (316), the rhyme of the first verse is not taken up till we reach the ninth, and in To Primroses filled with Morning Dew {257), the stanza of which is a masterpiece of the most cunning craftsmanship, there is the same interval : ' An Ode for Ben Jonson (911). 244 ROBERT HERRICK Why do ye weep, sweet babes ? Can tears Speak grief in you. Who were but bom Just as the modest mom Teem'd her refreshing dew ? Alas ! you have not known that shower That mars a flower. Nor felt the unkind Breath of a blasting wind ; Nor are ye worn with years. Or warp'd as we, Who think it strange to see Such pretty flowers, like to orphans young. To speak by tears before ye have a tongue. Thus does one attempt to bring Herrick's lyric raptures to the disseclang table, and lay bare their intricate and finely-wrought structure. But in so doing, it must be remembered that it is the prerogative of all high art to defy the last analysis ; we may codify Herrick's rhymes and tabulate his rhythms, but the evanescent, and yet ever-abiding, charm of his verse eludes our search. When, finally, we turn from the contemplation of the outward structure of Herrick's lyrics to the spirit which informs them, we are at once impressed by the universality of his genius in all that pertains to lyricism. His con- sciousness of discipleship, while it attests the humility of his nature, must not be allowed to obscure the fact that he was the supreme master of the lyre in his own generation, and the glorious consummator of Renaissance song. All the most melodious notes in that loud chorus which made of the England of the Renaissance " a nest of singing-birds," are heard in the Hesperides. Herri ck can attune his lyre to the strains of Marlowe and the earliest melodists of Ehzabethan song, and, at the same time, he can rival the courtly gallantries of his immediate contemporaries, Carew and SuckUng. The varying ply of his genius gives him also the right to sit down, in that Elysium which his poetic fancy wrought, with Anacreon on his right hand, and Catullus and Horace on his left. THE "NOBLE NUMBERS" 245 He is at once romantic and classic, learned and popular. Nothing is too low for his genius, and nothing too high. He can stoop to the ale-house catch, fashioning it into a thing of beauty ; and he can rise to the full-voiced and intricate harmonies of the classic ode, giving to it fresh power and fresh enchantment. In like manner, he is the bard of the town and of the country, of the court and of the meadows. His songs are sung in the thatched cottages of Dean Prior, in the taverns of Temple Bar or Southwark, and beneath the fretted roof of Inigo Jones's banqueting-house at Whitehall. He can render the homage of matchless verse to court ladies and princes of the blood, to aldermen and city madams, to village youths bringing in the hock-cart, or to maidens in sun-bonnets going a-Maying. He can write epithalamies for wealthy knights, and charms for simple housewives ; the Countess of Carlisle inspires his muse, and so does Prudence Baldwin. He can weave poetry, as fine as threads of gossamer, out of the fancies of an esoteric fairy-lore, and at the same time he can touch with beauty the crude superstitions of the country-side. He is both Christian and pagan, and, almost in the same breath, he will present his supphcation to God the Father, and invite the protection of his " pecuhar Lar." The comparison which is sometimes drawn between Herrick and the lyrists of a later day — Burns, Shelley, Heine — ^is of singiiarly little value, for it is like a com- parison between youth and age. CiviUzation has moved fopvard since the day on which Herrick published his Hesperides, and advancing years have brought to l3^c poetry deeper purposes, intenser emotions, and more obstinate questionings as to the whence and whither, the meaning and worth, of life. The Renaissance song of Marlowe and Breton and Shakespeare and Dekker and Herrick is the song of children in the eager air of a spring morning. Life to them is a perpetual holiday and the world is very new and very wonderful. They are conscious at times that this joy cannot last for ever, and ^4^ ROBEfeT iHERRlCK that " youth's a stuff will not endure " ; but the resilience of their natures soon lifts them out of their forebodings, and the thriU of exultation comes back to them with quickened pulse. They know nothing of the heartache of modem l3aicism, and their philosophy of Ufe is but to seize the day. With Bums and Shelley and Heine all this is changed. In them lyric emotion is adult and self- conscious. Their sweetest songs are only too often those that teU of saddest thought, and about them there gathers an intensity which is sometimes the child of hope, and sometimes of disillusionment. The passion of Bums, the alternating moods of hope and dejection which inform the songs of Shelley, the bitter-sweet emotion of Heine — these are almost unknown to Herrick and the other masters of Renaissance song. Bums and Shelley and Heine are of necessity more to us than Herrick can ever be ; for they speak to us in our own language, offering us hope and encouragement, rousing us to finer issues and nobl^ aspirations, or confirming us in our fears and misgivings. But there are times when, feeHng that the world is too much with us, we try to free our minds from the burden of modernity ; and then it is that, in hoUday mood, we turn to the Hesperides, and find refreshment of soul in the contemplation of an age that knew httle of misgiving or disillusionment, and of a poet in whom, beneath the garb of an Anglican clergyman, there beat the heart of a votary of Apollo, " for ever piping songs for ever new," and bidding us gather rosebuds while we may in the bowered glades of Arcady. APPENDIX APPENDIX I herrice's indenture of appeenxiceship (September 25, 1607) * This indentnre witnesseth that Robert Herick the sonne of Nicholas Herick of London, Goldsmithe, doth pnt him selfe apprentize to Sir Wm. Herick, knighte, citizen, and goldsmith of London to leame his Arte. And with him {after the manner of Apprentize) to serve from the feaste of St Bar- tholomew the apostle last past before the date heereof onto the full end and terme of Tenn yeres from thence next fol- lowing to be full complete and ended. During which terme the said Apprentize his said master :^thfaUy shall serve his secrets keepe his lawfull commandements every where gladly doe. He shall doe no damage to his said master, nor see to be done of other (but that so his power shall lett, or forthwith give warning id his master of tiie same. He shaU not waste the goode of his said master nor lend them un- lawfully to any p.son : He shall not commit fornication nor contract matrimony 'within the said terme. He shall not playe at the cardes, dice, tables or any other unlawfuU games whereby his said master may have any losse with his own goode or others during the said terme without Ucence of his said master ; he shall neither beg nor stele ; he shall not haunt Tavemes nor absent him seUe from his said master's service daie nor nighte unlawfully. But in all tbinges as a faithfull Apprentize he shaU behave him selfe towards his said master and all his during the said terme. And the said master his said Apprentize in the same Arte which he nseth, by the best means he can, shall teach and instruct with due correction, finding imto his said Apprentize meate, drinke, Apparell, Lodging, and aU other necessaries accord- 1 From the Herrick Papers at Beaumaoor. 240 250 APPENDIX ing to the Custome of the Citty of London during the said terme. And for the true performance of all and singuler the said covenants and agreements either of the saide parties bindeth him selfe unto the other by theis presents. In witness whereof the parties above named to this Indenture interchangably have put their hand and seales the xxv" daie of September in tiie year of our Lord God 1607, and in ffyfte yere of the Raigne of our Soveraigne Lord King James, by the grace of God King of England Scotland fErance and Ireland, defender of the ffaith etc. (Signed) Robert Hericke. APPENDIX II THE DIRGE OF ERIC BLOOD-AXE It is a far cry from the publication of Hesperides back through the centuries to the old Norse Eiriks-Mal, or Dirge of Eric Blood-axe, the earliest of all Valhalla songs. But the dirge is so audacious in conception, and so heroic in spirit, that I cannot refrain from reproducing it here in the metre of Morris's Sigurd. The paganism of Robert Herrick was classic and not Teutonic, but he would, I think, have taken pleasure in this story of the apotheosis of his far-distant ancestor. The poem in the Hesperides, entitled The Appa- rition of his Mistress calling him to Elysium, is, after its kind, a treatment of the same theme which is set forth in the following poem. Eric Blood-axe fell at the battle of Stain- moor, in Westmorland, which was fought about the year 954, and tradition informs us that the dirge was composed at the command of his wife Gunhild. It is most unfortunate that the poem is incomplete. The Old Norse text, with a transla- tion into English prose, and fuller details as to the life of Eric Blood-axe, will be found in the first volume of Mag- nusson and Powell's Corpus Poeticum Boreale, pp. 259-261. Odin. O say, what of dreams is this ? Methought ere the dawn I arose Valhalla's dwellings to garnish for the warriors slain by their foes. From sleep I awoke the Champions, I bade them stir their Umbs, The benches with rushes to scatter, the beer-vats to fill to the brims ; Bade the Valk3?rie bear the wine, as though a king were at hand. Or of chieftains, to gladden my heart, a fair and goodly band. 261 253 APPENDIX Bragi. What uproar is this that I hear ? 'Tis as if a thousand men. Or some great host of warriors, were moving hither again. The boarded walls are creaking, as if to Odin's hall Balder himself were returning, of the gods the fairest of aU. Odin. Of a truth thou speakest fondly, good Bragi, though thou art wise, 'Tis for Eric Blood-axe it thunders, 'tis he who comes to the skies. Sigmund, and thou, SinfiotU, rise in haste the king to greet. Bid him in, if it fee Eric, give him welcome to this seat. Sigmund. Why lookest thou more for this Eric than for kings of other lands ? Odin. Because over many a kingdom he has borne his blood- stained brands. Sigmund. Then why didst thou rob him of victory, if thou thought' st him brave 'gainst all odds ? Odin. Because who knows when the Grey Wolf shall threaten the seats of the gods. Sigmund {meeting Eric) All hail ! to thee, Eric the kingly, thou art welcome within these wards. But -what kings are these which follow from the clash of the keen-edged swords ? Eric. Kings are they five in number, I wUl teU thee all their names. And I myself am the sixth. . . . PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS