Bring me but one; I'll promise thee, Thy wings shall be embalm'd by me, LXXXVI. UPON THE DEATH OF HIS SPARROW. WHY do not all fresh maids appear Where spring-time smiles throughout the year? Phil, the late dead, the late dead dear! For you once lost, who weep not here! POEM LXXXVI.] Catullus's celebrated little elegy on the death of Lesbia's sparrow, and Virgil's gnat, are poems too well known to every classic reader to need a comment here. LXXXVII. TO PRIMROSES FILLED WITH MORNING DEW. WHY do ye weep, sweet babes? Can tears Speak grief in you, Who were but born Just as the modest morn Alas! you have not known that show'r Nor felt th' unkind Breath of a blasting wind; Nor are ye worn with years; Who think it strange to see Such pretty flow'rs, like to orphans young, Speak, whimp'ring younglings; and make known The reason why Ye droop, and weep. Is it for want of sleep; Or that ye have not seen as yet Or brought a kiss From that sweetheart to this? No, no; this sorrow, shown By your tears shed, Would have this lecture read, "That things of greatest, so of meanest worth, "Conceiv'd with grief are, and with tears brought "forth." LXXXVIII... TO THE WILLOW TREE. THOU art to all lost love the best, When once the lover's rose is dead, Then willow garlands 'bout the head, When with neglect, the lover's bane, For their love lost; their only gain And underneath thy cooling shade, When weary of the light, The love-spent youth, and love-sick maid Come to weep out the night. LXXXIX. MRS. ELIZABETH WHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF THE LOST SHEPHERDESS. AMONG the myrtles as I walk'd, Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: POEM LXXXIX.] This elegant morceau is likewise found, under the title of the Inquiry, in Carew's poems, which were twice printed, the last edition in 1642, anterior to Herrick's book. There was besides a modern reprint of them, by T. Davies, in 1772. See the advertisement. Notwithstanding this, I am inclined to think, with Dr. Drake, that the poem was written by Herrick; its variations from the copy of Carew, he observes, bear indubitable marks of Tell me, said I, in deep distress, Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this, In yon carnation go and seek, There thou shalt find her lip and cheek; There thou shalt have her curious eye; In bloom of peach, and rose's bud, There waves the streamer of her blood. "Tis true, said I; and thereupon I went to pluck them one by one, its being the original. Besides, it is improbable that Herrick, who superintended, and arranged his own productions, and who must have been familiar with the volume of his ingenious rival, would have republished this piece as his own, if he had not possessed a prior claim to it. But I will give the poem as it stands in Carew, that the reader may judge for himself AMONGST the myrtles as I walk'd, Love and my sighs thus intertalk'd: Thou fool, said Love, know'st thou not this, In ev'ry thing that's good she is? In yonder tulip go and seek, There thou mayst find her lip, her cheek; In yon enamell'd pansy by, There thou shalt have her curious eye; There wave the streamers of her blood; With that I stopt; said Love, these be, Fond man, resemblances of thee; And, as these flow'rs, thy joys shall die, Like these short sweets thus knit together. To make of parts an union ; At which I stopp'd. Said Love, these be For, as these flow'rs, thy joys must die, And all thy hopes of her must wither, XC. THE POET'S GOOD WISHES FOR THE MOST HOPEFUL AND HANDSOME PRINCE, THE DUKE OF YORK.* MAY his pretty Dukeship grow Like to a rose of Jericho ; Sweeter far than ever yet Show'rs, or sunshines could beget! Prince of Helicon, but he! May his soft foot, where it treads, Gardens thence produce, and meads; With the rose, and violet! *Afterwards king James the second of England. These lines were evidently written during our poet's first residence at Dean Prior. G |