So that we may guess by these The other parts will richly please.

343. TO FLOWERS.

In time of life I graced ye with my verse; Do now your flowery honours to my hea.r.s.e.

You shall not languish, trust me; virgins here Weeping shall make ye flourish all the year.

344. TO MY ILL READER.

Thou say'st my lines are hard, And I the truth will tell-- They are both hard and marr'd If thou not read'st them well.

345. THE POWER IN THE PEOPLE.

Let kings command and do the best they may, The saucy subjects still will bear the sway.

346. A HYMN TO VENUS AND CUPID.

Sea-born G.o.ddess, let me be By thy son thus grac'd and thee; That whene'er I woo, I find Virgins coy but not unkind.

Let me when I kiss a maid Taste her lips so overlaid With love's syrup, that I may, In your temple when I pray, Kiss the altar and confess There's in love no bitterness.

347. ON JULIA'S PICTURE.

How am I ravish'd! when I do but see The painter's art in thy sciography?

If so, how much more shall I dote thereon When once he gives it incarnation?

_Sciography_, the profile or section of a building.

348. HER BED.

See'st thou that cloud as silver clear, Plump, soft, and swelling everywhere?

'Tis Julia's bed, and she sleeps there.

349. HER LEGS.

Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.

350. UPON HER ALMS.

See how the poor do waiting stand For the expansion of thy hand.

A wafer dol'd by thee will swell Thousands to feed by miracle.

351. REWARDS.

Still to our gains our chief respect is had; Reward it is that makes us good or bad.

352. NOTHING NEW.

Nothing is new; we walk where others went; There's no vice now but has his precedent.

353. THE RAINBOW.

Look how the rainbow doth appear But in one only hemisphere; So likewise after our decease No more is seen the arch of peace.

That cov'nant's here, the under-bow, That nothing shoots but war and woe.

354. THE MEADOW-VERSE; OR, ANNIVERSARY TO MISTRESS BRIDGET LOWMAN.

Come with the spring-time forth, fair maid, and be This year again the meadow's deity.

Yet ere ye enter give us leave to set Upon your head this flowery coronet; To make this neat distinction from the rest, You are the prime and princess of the feast; To which with silver feet lead you the way, While sweet-breath nymphs attend on you this day.

This is your hour, and best you may command, Since you are lady of this fairy land.

Full mirth wait on you, and such mirth as shall Cherish the cheek but make none blush at all.

_Meadow-verse_, to be recited at a rustic feast.

355. THE PARTING VERSE, THE FEAST THERE ENDED.

Loth to depart, but yet at last each one Back must now go to's habitation; Not knowing thus much when we once do sever, Whether or no that we shall meet here ever.

As for myself, since time a thousand cares And griefs hath filed upon my silver hairs, 'Tis to be doubted whether I next year Or no shall give ye a re-meeting here.

If die I must, then my last vow shall be, You'll with a tear or two remember me.

Your sometime poet; but if fates do give Me longer date and more fresh springs to live, Oft as your field shall her old age renew, Herrick shall make the meadow-verse for you.

356. UPON JUDITH. EPIG.

Judith has cast her old skin and got new, And walks fresh varnish'd to the public view; Foul Judith was and foul she will be known For all this fair transfiguration.

359. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE PHILIP, EARL OF PEMBROKE AND MONTGOMERY.

How dull and dead are books that cannot show A prince of Pembroke, and that Pembroke you!

You who are high born, and a lord no less Free by your fate than fortune's mightiness, Who hug our poems, honour'd sir, and then The paper gild and laureate the pen.

Nor suffer you the poets to sit cold, But warm their wits and turn their lines to gold.

Others there be who righteously will swear Those smooth-paced numbers amble everywhere, And these brave measures go a stately trot; Love those, like these, regard, reward them not.

But you, my lord, are one whose hand along Goes with your mouth or does outrun your tongue; Paying before you praise, and, c.o.c.kering wit, Give both the gold and garland unto it.

_c.o.c.kering_, pampering.