George Herbert- Collected Poetical Works

by George Herbert

  Twin gems of our Golden Age they are,

  Twin thunderbolts of the Holy War.

  Cam, listening backward, heard the one;

  Thames, tremulous, look’d the other upon;

  Both wond’ring as ‘fore flashing swords

  How each grand mouth spoke burning words.

  Or should I celebrate BEZA hoar,

  Soothing the Rhone and Leman’s shore

  In his green old age? who, white-hair’d, saw

  His fourscore years; and still doth draw

  For five years more his line of life,

  Fruitful as Spring with young flow’rs rife;

  His mouth — like stream o’erflowing, rushing —

  Still his prime eloquence forth-gushing,

  Filling men’s minds as they list attent

  With grace as rich as dews heaven-sent;

  Above all envy, thousands outliving,

  And holy SADEEL and CALVIN surviving —

  Greatest of names that Europe hoasts,

  Grandest e’er led the Lord’s own hosts:

  With swan-like voice to the flowing waves,

  He sings the praise of Him Who saves:

  How of God the Father kind,

  Now of the Son, now of the Wind

  Divine, e’en God the Spirit holy,

  Sanctifier of the meek and lowly:

  He sings what he feels of Truth more pure,

  Of simpler Worship that shall endure;

  The pure an added pureness taking,

  The already worthy worthier making;

  Furnishing arms to smite the foes

  Of Him Whose Cross on Calv’ry rose.

  To him singing, Alpine summits hoar,

  Which up to the heavens serenely soar,

  Shout forth his praise; the valleys beneath

  Take up the echo, and their breath

  Far Jura rolls back in his thund’ring woods,

  And Father Ister with his floods —

  They ring together from afar;

  And two-horn’d Rhine doubles the war;

  Garonne, Seine, Saône, and Loire,

  And our British Isles, that rule the sea,

  In great part join the melody,

  Lifting a liquid voice on high;

  And earth and sea and the wide sky,

  In emulation to prolong

  His form and mode who leads the song,

  Together sing, and seek to move

  In measures which BEZA will approve,

  And renew those laws, by zeal inspir’d,

  Which our Scoti-British king requir’d;

  Laws which he order’d to stand fast,

  That the FAITH REFORM’D for aye may last.

  Thus His eternal, fix’d decree

  On brazen tablets keepeth He, —

  The King Who rules the earth and sea,

  And governs all things wondrously.

  Whose Offspring takes coequal place

  With’s Father — Guard of the Elect Race,

  And nurt’ring Spirit, equal to Both,

  Proceeding from them as BREATH doth —

  In fine, the Tri-une God, yet One

  In nature, virtue, action;

  One Glory and one Majesty,

  One self-containèd Deity;

  One boundless Power, One Endless Life,

  One Light, one Wisdom superlative;

  One Mind, one Reason, and One Voice,

  One Will, according in all choice;

  Gentle, indulgent, easy, kind —

  Yet other attributes are join’d;

  Stern, rig’rous, unyielding, and severe —

  O, weak our words how deep soe’er! —

  Omnipotent, eternal, just,

  Yet ever mild to all Him trust.

  Clear Mirror of Whose Pace of Wonder —

  Golden and awful in its splendour —

  Is He the Virgin-born from above,

  And Mediator there of Love;

  The Son Who doth the Father show

  All that He feels, all He doth know,

  With such a keen and piercing light

  As drives away the blackest night;

  Whether He holy doctrine preacheth,

  Or Way of Christian life He teacheth;

  Public or private ordinances —

  Whate’er His Kingdom great advances;

  Referring all unto the King,

  ‘Neath Whose will he all doth bring;

  By light which better Sun bestows

  Than our dim sky or earth e’er knows;

  By a law which The Lawgiver made,

  Whose Will may never he gainsaid;

  Of perfect duty the supreme rule —

  He who denies it is a fool!

  Blind, alas, is mind of man;

  His will deprav’d and under ban;

  Passions outrageous, soul benighted;

  His choice from duty disunited;

  Lust at the call of Appetite,

  That doth all obedience slight.

  Whoe’er to Duty turns deaf ear,

  And yields to Passion without fear,

  While like a storm it bears along

  His foolish heart with impulse strong, —

  Pool — blockhead — thrice, four times, we say,

  And wholly wretched every way.

  Whoe’er drinks-in with ready ear

  The voice of Duty stern yet clear,

  As freely it makes known abroad,

  Throughout the world, the will of God;

  He is thrice prudent and wise of heart,

  Perfectly wise in every part.

  Therefore, ye foremost men of Cam,

  And ye whom famous Thames doth claim,

  Whom ill-advising Error hath

  Turned aside from the right path,

  O, return now, and once again

  Guidance of King of Kings obtain.

  And if no fear of man will awe,

  Think — God will yet avenge His Law;

  The right, the wrong, is ‘neath His eye,

  Nor may you hope Him to defy;

  Bethink ye too o’ the realms below,

  Which only fiends as pleasant know;

  And of the doom that there awaits

  All guilty souls whom Pride elates.

  Ah, pomp-full Prelates, ye shall feel

  Strange fiery overseers’ zeal,

  And through Hell’s night shall ye their flock

  Be held — who the Almighty mock!

  Prelates! in twice-dipt Tyrian dyes,

  As proud ye court admiring eyes;

  Gorging your paunches in banquets high,

  Outvying all regal revelry;

  Such pride as did URSINUS show —

  Such pride as DAMASIS did blow,

  Swelling in luxury, insolent,

  Pugnacious, to fierce ambition bent;

  Polluting God’s House and the City

  With vilest slaughter — without pity;

  Drawing precedent for our age,

  Kindling e’en now to utmost rage

  Against the prelate-order, who

  All the old wrong-doings full renew;

  What will not this dire thirst of gold

  Lead men to do? Crimes manifold.

  What guilt will not Ambition

  Prom age to age bring mortals on?

  Alas, how many woes, and great,

  Doth it not pour, unconsecrate! G.

  EPIGRAMS IN DEFENCE OF THE DISCIPLINE OF OUR CHURCH.

  I. Augustissimo Potentissimoque Monarchae Jacobo, D. G. Magnae

  Britanniae, Franciae, et Hiberniae Regi, Fidei Defensori, dx. Geo. Herbertus.

  To the Most August and Mighty Monarch, James, by the Grace of God of Great Britain, France, and Ireland King, Defender of the Faith, d’c. George Herbert.

  Lo, on the fruitful banks of ebbing Nile

  The sun begets new tribes with nurturing smile.

  So, Cæsar, ere thy favouring ray bad gleam’d,

  Nothing
but common mud our Muses seem’d.

  Now these, through thee, so live that they can creep,

  And into thy sun’s bedchamber dare peep. R. WI.

  II. Illustris celsissimoque Carolo, Walliae et Juventutis Principi.

  To the most illustrious and exalted Charles, Prince of Wales and of our Youth.

  On this new page which in thy hand I place,

  O crown and glory of the youthful race,

  Breathe thou with tranquil countenance benign.

  Surely before a single glance of thine

  Devouring worms and dusky moths will flee —

  The carping race which Envy bears to me;

  E’en as the rising sunbeams put to flight

  Hoar-frosts, which cultivated crops affright;

  Or as sweet syrups soothe a wearing cold;

  So — shall I call thee young, O prince, or old? —

  May Death believe thee always young in years,

  While to our eyes thy wisdom old appears. R. WI.

  III. Reverendissimo in Christo Patri ac Domino Episcopo Vintoniensi, &c.

  To the Right Reverend Father in Christ and Lord Bishop of Winchester, &c. [Launcelot Andrewes.]

  Blest sire, Heaven’s guard, than whom more learnèd seems

  Nought upon Earth, on High nought holier gleams;

  When in weak numbers were imprison’d fast

  My words, thy friendly doors they well-nigh past:

  But quickly, cleverly there issu’d thence,

  And stay’d them as they went along, GOOD SENSE —

  Teaching my poetry henceforth to find

  Its fair proportion only from thy mind. — R.WI.

  IV. Ad Regem Epigrammata duo.

  To the King: Two Epigrams.

  1. The reason of the epigrammatic form.

  Since thousand matters knock at thy mind’s gates,

  Upon whose aid a world dependent waits;

  Lest with long poems I should tedious be,

  For solid verse, fragments I offer thee.

  2. Second Epigram of the two.

  “With looks and books the Puritans crush thou;

  Thy table’s pickings be for me enow. R. WI.

  V. Ad Melvinum.

  Nor to attack, vet’ran, my age befits,

  Nor conquer thee; but yet the theme permits.

  Let my good cause my want of years supply;

  So thou a youth art found, an old man I.

  As thou contendest, shorten’d see thine age,

  While with thy hoary hairs I deck my page.

  But how obliging am I! when our blows

  Have brought the changing conflict to a close,

  Then thy fleet years, an’t please thee, I’ll resign,

  And rest contented with this youth of mine. R. WI.

  VI. In Monstrum vocabuli Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria.

  On the Monster of a Word, ‘Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria.’

  To the same [=Melville].

  What a fine man thou art! a pretty word to say,

  This ‘Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria’!

  Thus Puritans in words and things love novelties;

  What smacks of age or hoary time neglected lies.

  To hammer-out some words now also grant to me;

  The shop for forging them is not confin’d to thee.

  Accept, since Puritanic fury rules the day,

  My ‘Anti-furi-Puri-Categoria;’

  Or since you blam’d the bowls which on James’ altar lay,

  Take ‘Anti-pelvi-Melvi-categoria.’ R. WI.

  VII. Partitio Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoriae.

  The division of Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria.

  Three parts, O Scot, to make the thing more clear,

  Of ‘Anti-categoria’ appear.

  One Sacred Rites attacks: Two, lifts on high

  Holy Divines: Three, treats of Deity. —

  Concerning the two last we think the same:

  I praise the Good, and I adore God’s Name.

  About the first alone debate is found:

  O, well that we possess some, fighting-ground! R. WI.

  VIII. In Metri Genus.

  On the kind of Metre of Anti-Tami-Cami-Categoria (Sapphics).

  Why, when the Classics deal in many a measure.

  Does female Sappho only give thee pleasure?

  How came thy poet-fancy to decline

  So readily the grand Heroic line,

  Iambics quick, and mournful Elegies?

  Hearts agitated best find words in these.

  This style suits you, who wear so demure face,

  And deem the people’s ways defil’d and base.

  Leaders and learned men ye bid depart,

  And ‘silly women’ guile with cozening art.

  And now to suit your verse to tender ears,

  The unwarlike Sapphic on your page appears. R. WI.

  IX. De Larvata Gorgone.

  Concerning the Masked Gorgon.

  Why thrustest thou on us a Gorgon dire

  And senseless masks, our patience thus to tire?

  Near is the Muse — Medusa, far be thou!

  Or if, as happy poets, we allow

  Once on a time Pallas Gorgonean nam’d,

  Then thy words please me, nor must thou be blam’d;

  Or if between us we must draw a line,

  Gorgonean shall belong to tbee and thine,

  While Pallas shall be left to me and mine. G.

  X. De Praesulum Fastu.

  Concerning the Pride of Prelates.

  Our Prelates, Melville, oft dost thou asperse

  As swoll’n with pride. Stay, list my answering verse.

  Whate’er above ‘the people’ towering high

  Is elevated to the ceiled sky

  As puffd-up, straightway wilt thou that decry?

  Then thou must designate as proud the Sun

  Holding its lofty course, O foolish one!

  Disdaining thee, he speeds his heavenly round,

  Yet ceaselessly illumes the lowest ground.

  So Prelates, who, when to high places rais’d,

  Lighten with help the wretched, should be prais’d, G.

  XI. De Gemina Academia.

  Concerning the Twin Universities.

  Who here is proud? Prelates, or thou, forsooth?

  Prelates, whom thou dost seize with thy black tooth

  Thou dost strike through the Muses’ double throne

  By thine own merit, mighty though alone.

  Powerless is one the conflict to maintain;

  A valiant kicker, thou dost floor them twain.

  All fools, or hypocrites, we are esteem’d;

  Clever and upright thou alone art deem’d.

  Are we not rather, changing places, good?

  Thou full of obstinate and envious blood?

  If through perspective you make inspection,

  Holding it in the usual direction,

  Objects are magnified; but turn it round

  The other way, all things are lessen’d found.

  Thou who dost deem all others proud to be,

  Although naught prouder do we know than thee,

  Just turn the perspective; for now, I wis,

  You use the magnifying glass amiss! — R.WI.

  XII. De S. Baptismi Ritu.

  Concerning the Rite of holy Baptism.

  When to the Font a tender babe is brought,

  Must the accustom’d words profane be thought,

  Because the child knows not? Thus buy we fields

  For whom Christ’s blood a heavenly kingdom yields?

  If circumstance or nonage buyer prevent,

  A friend to go through points of law is sent.

  Would you the carrying of the babe escheat,

  Bidding it cross the church on its own feet?

  But if another’s feet a babe demands,

  How is’t another’s voice displeasing stands?

  Rightly may innocent sucklings claim from you

&nbs
p; All things which Sense mature itself would do.

  Why should not one make good an infant’s cries,

  Powerless itself to supplicate the skies?

  Cruel, dost snatch from babes the pledge of heaven Ί

  No surety be to thee in thy need given. G.

  XIII. De Signaculo Crucis.

  Concerning the Sign of the Cross.

  Why ‘gainst the harmless Cross do you thus puff

  Reproaches keen and fierce and ne’er enough?

  Not more precip’tate flee demons malign

  Than you and yours before the sacred Sign!

  It was of the Apostles no light blame

  To eschew Christ’s Sp’rit, breathing Cross’s shame:

  Each Christian, Tertullian styles a fish

  From Baptism’s waters in the sacred dish

  Wherein when we are children we are dipp’d,

  And thereby for life’s warfare are equipp’d.

  Who looks upon the arms of one who swims,

  Nor sees the Cross in his outstretched limbs?

  I will not waste more time: your Cross will come,

  Whether you welcome it, or meet it dumb. G.

  XIV. De Juramento Ecclesiae.

  Concerning the Church’s Oath.

  To sign the Articles when one was told,

  ‘Ah, gout forbids my hand a pen to hold!’

  O finely said! when all who order hate

  Find rack’d articulations is their fate! R. WI.

  XV. De Purificatione post Puerperium.

  On Purification (= Churching) after Childbirth.

  Childbearing mothers you object to find

  In God’s House, praising Him with grateful mind.

  Perchance, since with such waves of mutual strife

  The harass’d Kirk of Scotland still was rife, [years,

  No mother’s prayers and hymns bless’d your young

  And the neglect in your marr’d life appears.

  But we, when children’s tongue to God is still,

  That parent should not praise Him, think it ill:

  If for our daily food our thanks we raise,

  For our own flesh shall we ascribe no praise?

  Nay, pious souls for gain the occasion count [mount.

  When from meek hearts their prayers to heaven may

  So when a woman, conscious of the gloom

  Of the pluck’d apple and the sorrowing womb,

  Groans bitterly beneath the Curse’s doom,

  Eightly does she, escap’d from storm to rest,