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A Nuptial Song Or Epithalamy On Sir Clipseby Crew And His Lady.
By Robert Herrick
What's that we see from far? the spring of day
Bloom'd from the east, or fair enjewell'd May
Blown out of April, or some new
Star filled with glory to our view,
Reaching at heaven,
To add a nobler planet to the seven?
Say, or do we not descry
Some goddess in a cloud of tiffany
To move, or rather the
Emergent Venus from the sea?
'Tis she! 'tis she! or else some more divine
Enlightened substance; mark how from the shrine
Of holy saints she paces on,
Treading upon vermilion
And amber: spic-
ing the chaft air with fumes of Paradise.
Then come on, come on and yield
A savour like unto a blessed field
When the bedabbled morn
Washes the golden ears of corn.
See where she comes; and smell how all the street
Breathes vineyards and pomegranates: O how sweet!
As a fir'd altar is each stone,
Perspiring pounded cinnamon.
The ph[oe]nix' nest,
Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who, therein, would not consume
His soul to ash-heaps in that rich perfume?
Bestroking fate the while
He burns to embers on the pile.
Hymen, O Hymen! tread the sacred ground;
Show thy white feet and head with marjoram crown'd:
Mount up thy flames and let thy torch
Display the bridegroom in the porch,
In his desires
More towering, more disparkling than thy fires:
Show her how his eyes do turn
And roll about, and in their motions burn
Their balls to cinders: haste
Or else to ashes he will waste.
Glide by the banks of virgins, then, and pass
The showers of roses, lucky four-leav'd grass:
The while the cloud of younglings sing
And drown ye with a flowery spring;
While some repeat
Your praise and bless you, sprinkling you with wheat;
While that others do divine,
Bless'd is the bride on whom the sun doth shine;
And thousands gladly wish
You multiply as doth a fish.
And, beauteous bride, we do confess y'are wise
In dealing forth these bashful jealousies:
In love's name do so; and a price
Set on yourself by being nice:
But yet take heed;
What now you seem be not the same indeed,
And turn apostate: love will,
Part of the way be met or sit stone-still.
On, then, and though you slow-
ly go, yet, howsoever, go.
And now y'are entered; see the coddled cook
Runs from his torrid zone to pry and look
And bless his dainty mistress: see
The aged point out, "This is she
Who now must sway
The house (love shield her) with her yea and nay":
And the smirk butler thinks it
Sin in's napery not to express his wit;
Each striving to devise
Some gin wherewith to catch your eyes.
To bed, to bed, kind turtles, now, and write
This the short'st day, and this the longest night;
But yet too short for you: 'tis we
Who count this night as long as three,
Lying alone,
Telling the clock strike ten, eleven, twelve, one.
Quickly, quickly then prepare,
And let the young men and the bride-maids share
Your garters; and their joints
Encircle with the bridegroom's points.
By the bride's eyes, and by the teeming life
Of her green hopes, we charge ye that no strife
(Farther than gentleness tends) gets place
Among ye, striving for her lace:
O do not fall
Foul in these noble pastimes, lest ye call
Discord in, and so divide
The youthful bridegroom and the fragrant bride:
Which love forfend; but spoken
Be't to your praise, no peace was broken.
Strip her of springtime, tender-whimpering maids,
Now autumn's come, when all these flowery aids
Of her delays must end; dispose
That lady-smock, that pansy, and that rose
Neatly apart,
But for prick-madam and for gentle-heart,
And soft maidens'-blush, the bride
Makes holy these, all others lay aside:
Then strip her, or unto her
Let him come who dares undo her.
And to enchant ye more, see everywhere
About the roof a siren in a sphere,
As we think, singing to the din
Of many a warbling cherubin.
O mark ye how
The soul of nature melts in numbers: now
See, a thousand Cupids fly
To light their tapers at the bride's bright eye.
To bed, or her they'll tire,
Were she an element of fire.
And to your more bewitching, see, the proud
Plump bed bear up, and swelling like a cloud,
Tempting the two too modest; can
Ye see it brusle like a swan,
And you be cold
To meet it when it woos and seems to fold
The arms to hug it? Throw, throw
Yourselves into the mighty overflow
Of that white pride, and drown
The night with you in floods of down.
The bed is ready, and the maze of love
Looks for the treaders; everywhere is wove
Wit and new mystery; read, and
Put in practice, to understand
And know each wile,
Each hieroglyphic of a kiss or smile;
And do it to the full; reach
High in your own conceit, and some way teach
Nature and art one more
Play than they ever knew before.
If needs we must for ceremony's sake,
Bless a sack-posset, luck go with it, take
The night-charm quickly, you have spells
And magics for to end, and hells
To pass; but such
And of such torture as no one would grutch
To live therein for ever: fry
And consume, and grow again to die
And live, and, in that case,
Love the confusion of the place.
But since it must be done, despatch, and sew
Up in a sheet your bride, and what if so
It be with rock or walls of brass
Ye tower her up, as Danae was;
Think you that this
Or hell itself a powerful bulwark is?
I tell ye no; but like a
Bold bolt of thunder he will make his way,
And rend the cloud, and throw
The sheet about like flakes of snow.
All now is hushed in silence: midwife-moon
With all her owl-eyed issue begs a boon,
Which you must grant; that's entrance; with
Which extract, all we can call pith
And quintessence
Of planetary bodies, so commence,
All fair constellations
Looking upon ye, that two nations,
Springing from two such fires
May blaze the virtue of their sires.
Extra Info:
Tiffany, gauze.
More disparkling, more widespreading.
Nice, fastidious.
Coddled, lit. boiled.
Lace, girdle.
Brusle, raise its feathers.
Grutch, grumble.
A Nuptial Song on Sir Clipseby Crew. Of this Epithalamium (written in 1625 for the marriage of Sir Clipseby Crew, knighted by James I. at Theobald's in 1620, with Jane, daughter of Sir John Pulteney), two manuscript versions, substantially agreeing, are preserved at the British Museum (Harl. MS. 6917, and Add. 25, 303). Seven verses are transcribed in these manuscripts which Herrick afterwards saw fit to omit, and almost every verse contains variants of importance. It is impossible to convey the effect of the earlier version by a mere collation, and I therefore transcribe it in full, despite its length. As before, variants and additions are printed in italics. The numbers in brackets are those of the later version, as given in Hesperides. The marginal readings are variants of Add. 25, 303, from the Harleian manuscript.
1 [1].
"What's that we see from far? the spring of Day
Bloom'd from the East, or fair enamell'd May
Blown out of April; or some new
Star fill'd with glory to our view,
Reaching at Heaven,
To add a nobler Planet to the seven?
Say or do we not descry
Some Goddess in a Cloud of Tiffany
To move, or rather the
Emerging Venus from the sea?
2 [2].
"'Tis she! 'tis she! or else some more Divine
Enlightened substance; mark how from the shrine
Of holy Saints she paces on
Throwing about Vermilion
And Amber: spice-
ing the chafte-air with fumes of Paradise.
Then come on, come on, and yield
A savour like unto a blessed field,
When the bedabbled morn
Washes the golden ears of corn.
3.
"Lead on fair paranymphs, the while her eyes,
Guilty of somewhat, ripe the strawberries
And cherries in her cheeks, there's cream
Already spilt, her rays must gleam
Gently thereon,
And so beget lust and temptation
To surfeit and to hunger.
Help on her pace; and, though she lag, yet stir
Her homewards; well she knows
Her heart's at home, howe'er she goes.
4 [3].
"See where she comes; and smell how all the street
Breathes Vine-yards and Pomegranates: O how sweet,
As a fir'd Altar, is each stone
Spirting forth pounded Cinnamon.
The Ph[oe]nix nest,
Built up of odours, burneth in her breast.
Who would not then consume
His soul to ashes in that rich perfume? [ash-heaps
Bestroking Fate the while
He burns to embers on the Pile.
5 [4].
"Hymen, O Hymen! tread the sacred round [ground
Shew thy white feet, and head with Marjoram crowned:
Mount up thy flames, and let thy Torch
Display thy Bridegroom in the porch
In his desires
More towering, more besparkling than thy fires: [disparkling
Shew her how his eyes do turn
And roll about, and in their motions burn
Their balls to cinders: haste
Or, like a firebrand, he will waste.
6.
"See how he waves his hand, and through his eyes
Shoots forth his jealous soul, for to surprise
And ravish you his Bride, do you
Not now perceive the soul of C[lipseby] C[rew],
Your mayden knight,
With kisses to inspire
You with his just and holy ire.
7 [5].
"If so, glide through the ranks of Virgins, pass
The Showers of Roses, lucky four-leaved grass:
The while the cloud of younglings sing,
And drown you with a flowery spring:
While some repeat
Your praise, and bless you, sprinkling you with Wheat,
While that others do divine,
'Blest is the Bride on whom the Sun doth shine';
And thousands gladly wish
You multiply as do the fish.
8.
"Why then go forward, sweet Auspicious Bride,
And come upon your Bridegroom like a Tide
Bearing down Time before you; hye
Swell, mix, and loose your souls; imply
Like streams which flow
Encurled together, and no difference show
In their [most] silver waters; run
Into your selves like wool together spun.
Or blend so as the sight
Of two makes one Hermaphrodite.
9 [6].
"And, beauteous Bride, we do confess you are wise
On drawing forth those bashful jealousies [doling
In love's name, do so; and a price
Set on yourself by being nice.
But yet take heed
What now you seem be not the same indeed,
And turn Apostata: Love will
Part of the way be met, or sit stone still;
On them, and though y'are slow
In going yet, howsoever go.
10.
"How long, soft Bride, shall your dear C[lipseby] make
Love to your welcome with the mystic cake,
How long, oh pardon, shall the house
And the smooth Handmaids pay their vows
With oil and wine
For your approach, yet see their Altars pine?
How long shall the page to please
You stand for to surrender up the keys
Of the glad house? Come, come,
Or Lar will freeze to death at home.
11.
"Welcome at last unto the Threshold, Time
Throned in a saffron evening, seems to chime
All in, kiss and so enter. If
A prayer must be said, be brief,
The easy Gods
For such neglect have only myrtle rods
To stroke, not strike; fear you
Not more, mild Nymph, than they would have you do;
But dread that you do more offend
In that you do begin than end.
12 [7].
"And now y'are entered, see the coddled cook
Runs from his Torrid Zone to pry and look
And bless his dainty mistress; see
How th' aged point out: 'This is she
Who now must sway
Us (and God shield her) with her yea and nay,'
And the smirk Butler thinks it
Sin in his nap'ry not t' express his wit;
Each striving to devise
Some gin wherewith to catch her eyes.
13.
"What though your laden Altar now has won
The credit from the table of the Sun
For earth and sea; this cost
On you is altogether lost
Because you feed
Not on the flesh of beasts, but on the seed
Of contemplation: your,
Your eyes are they, wherewith you draw the pure
Elixir to the mind
Which sees the body fed, yet pined.
14 [14].
"If you must needs for ceremonie's sake
Bless a sack posset, Luck go with you, take
The night charm quickly; you have spells
And magic for to end, and Hells
To pass, but such
And of such torture as no God would grutch
To live therein for ever: fry,
Aye and consume, and grow again to die,
And live, and in that case
Love the damnation of that place. [the
15 [8].
"To Bed, to Bed, sweet Turtles now, and write
This the shortest day,+ this the longest night
And yet too short for you; 'tis we
Who count this night as long as three,
Lying alone
Hearing the clock go Ten, Eleven, Twelve, One:
Quickly, quickly then prepare.
And let the young men and the Bridemaids share
Your garters, and their joints
Encircle with the Bridegroom's points.
16 [9].
"By the Bride's eyes, and by the teeming life
Of her green hopes, we charge you that no strife,
Further than virtue lends, gets place
Among you catching at her Lace.
Oh, do not fall
Foul in these noble pastimes, lest you call
Discord in, and so divide
The gentle Bridegroom and the fragrous Bride,
Which Love forefend: but spoken
Be't to your praise: 'No peace was broken'.
17[10].
"Strip her of spring-time, tender whimpering maids,
Now Autumn's come, when all those flowery aids
Of her delays must end, dispose
That Lady-smock, that pansy and that Rose
Neatly apart;
But for prick-madam, and for gentle-heart,
And soft maiden-blush, the Bride
Makes holy these, all others lay aside:
Then strip her, or unto her
Let him come who dares undo her.
18 [11].
"And to enchant you more, view everywhere [ye
About the roof a Syren in a sphere,
As we think, singing to the din
Of many a warbling cherubin:
List, oh list! how
Even heaven gives up his soul between you now, [ye
Mark how thousand Cupids fly
To light their Tapers at the Bride's bright eye;
To bed, or her they'll tire,
Were she an element of fire.
19 [12].
"And to your more bewitching, see the proud
Plump bed bear up, and rising like a cloud,
Tempting thee, too, too modest; can
You see it brussle like a swan
And you be cold
To meet it, when it woos and seems to fold
The arms to hug you? throw, throw
Yourselves into that main, in the full flow
Of the white pride, and drown
The stars with you in floods of down.
20 [13].
"You see 'tis ready, and the maze of love
Looks for the treaders; everywhere is wove
Wit and new mystery, read and
Put in practice, to understand
And know each wile,
Each Hieroglyphic of a kiss or smile;
And do it in the full, reach
High in your own conceipts, and rather teach
Nature and Art one more
Sport than they ever knew before.
21.
To the Maidens:]
"And now y' have wept enough, depart; yon stars [the
Begin to pink, as weary that the wars
Know so long Treaties; beat the Drum
Aloft, and like two armies, come
And guild the field,
Fight bravely for the flame of mankind, yield
Not to this, or that assault,
For that would prove more Heresy than fault
In combatants to fly
'Fore this or that hath got the victory.
22 [15].
"But since it must be done, despatch and sew
Up in a sheet your Bride, and what if so
It be with rib of Rock and Brass,
Yea tower her up, as Danae was, [ye
Think you that this,
Or Hell itself, a powerful Bulwark is?
I tell you no; but like a [ye
Bold bolt of thunder he will make his way,
And rend the cloud, and throw
The sheet about, like flakes of snow.
23 [16].
"All now is hushed in silence: Midwife-moon
With all her Owl-ey'd issue begs a boon
Which you must grant; that's entrance with
Which extract, all we + call pith
And quintessence
Of Planetary bodies; so commence,
All fair constellations
Looking upon you that the Nations
Springing from to such Fires
May blaze the virtue of their Sires."
- R. HERRICK.
The variants in this version are not very important; one of the most noteworthy, round for ground, in stanza 5 [4], was overlooked by Dr. Grosart in his collation. Of the seven stanzas subsequently omitted several are of great beauty. There are few happier images in Herrick than that of Time throned in a saffron evening in stanza 11. It is only when the earlier version is read as a whole that Herrick's taste in omitting is vindicated. Each stanza is good in itself, but in the MSS. the poem drags from excessive length, and the reduction of its twenty-three stanzas to sixteen greatly improves it.
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