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The Welcome To Sack.
By Robert Herrick
So soft streams meet, so springs with gladder smiles
Meet after long divorcement by the isles;
When love, the child of likeness, urgeth on
Their crystal natures to a union:
So meet stolen kisses, when the moony nights
Call forth fierce lovers to their wish'd delights;
So kings and queens meet, when desire convinces
All thoughts but such as aim at getting princes,
As I meet thee. Soul of my life and fame!
Eternal lamp of love! whose radiant flame
Out-glares the heaven's Osiris,[H] and thy gleams
Out-shine the splendour of his mid-day beams.
Welcome, O welcome, my illustrious spouse;
Welcome as are the ends unto my vows;
Aye! far more welcome than the happy soil
The sea-scourged merchant, after all his toil,
Salutes with tears of joy, when fires betray
The smoky chimneys of his Ithaca.
Where hast thou been so long from my embraces,
Poor pitied exile? Tell me, did thy graces
Fly discontented hence, and for a time
Did rather choose to bless another clime?
Or went'st thou to this end, the more to move me,
By thy short absence, to desire and love thee?
Why frowns my sweet? Why won't my saint confer
Favours on me, her fierce idolater?
Why are those looks, those looks the which have been
Time-past so fragrant, sickly now drawn in
Like a dull twilight? Tell me, and the fault
I'll expiate with sulphur, hair and salt;
And, with the crystal humour of the spring,
Purge hence the guilt and kill this quarrelling.
Wo't thou not smile or tell me what's amiss?
Have I been cold to hug thee, too remiss,
Too temp'rate in embracing? Tell me, has desire
To thee-ward died i' th' embers, and no fire
Left in this rak'd-up ash-heap as a mark
To testify the glowing of a spark?
Have I divorc'd thee only to combine
In hot adult'ry with another wine?
True, I confess I left thee, and appeal
'Twas done by me more to confirm my zeal
And double my affection on thee, as do those
Whose love grows more inflam'd by being foes.
But to forsake thee ever, could there be
A thought of such-like possibility?
When thou thyself dar'st say thy isles shall lack
Grapes before Herrick leaves canary sack.
Thou mak'st me airy, active to be borne,
Like Iphiclus, upon the tops of corn.
Thou mak'st me nimble, as the winged hours,
To dance and caper on the heads of flowers,
And ride the sunbeams. Can there be a thing
Under the heavenly Isis[I] that can bring
More love unto my life, or can present
My genius with a fuller blandishment?
Illustrious idol! could th' Egyptians seek
Help from the garlic, onion and the leek
And pay no vows to thee, who wast their best
God, and far more transcendent than the rest?
Had Cassius, that weak water-drinker, known
Thee in thy vine, or had but tasted one
Small chalice of thy frantic liquor, he,
As the wise Cato, had approv'd of thee.
Had not Jove's son,[J] that brave Tirynthian swain,
Invited to the Thesbian banquet, ta'en
Full goblets of thy gen'rous blood, his sprite
Ne'er had kept heat for fifty maids that night.
Come, come and kiss me; love and lust commends
Thee and thy beauties; kiss, we will be friends
Too strong for fate to break us. Look upon
Me with that full pride of complexion
As queens meet queens, or come thou unto me
As Cleopatra came to Anthony,
When her high carriage did at once present
To the triumvir love and wonderment.
Swell up my nerves with spirit; let my blood
Run through my veins like to a hasty flood.
Fill each part full of fire, active to do
What thy commanding soul shall put it to;
And till I turn apostate to thy love,
Which here I vow to serve, do not remove
Thy fires from me, but Apollo's curse
Blast these-like actions, or a thing that's worse.
When these circumstants shall but live to see
The time that I prevaricate from thee.
Call me the son of beer, and then confine
Me to the tap, the toast, the turf; let wine
Ne'er shine upon me; may my numbers all
Run to a sudden death and funeral.
And last, when thee, dear spouse, I disavow,
Ne'er may prophetic Daphne crown my brow.
Extra Info:
Convinces, overcomes.
Ithaca, the home of the wanderer Ulysses.
Iphiclus won the foot-race at the funeral games of Pelias.
Circumstants, surroundings.
[H] The sun. (Note in the original edition.)
[I] The moon. (Note in the original edition.)
[J] Hercules. (Note in the original edition.)
The Welcome to Sack. Two MSS. at the British Museum (Harl. 6931 and Add. 19,268) contain copies of this important poem. These copies differ considerably from the printed version, are proved by small variations to be independent of each other, and at the same time agree in all important points. We may conclude, therefore, that they represent an earlier version of the poem, subsequently revised by Herrick before the issue of Hesperides. In the subjoined copy, in which the two MSS. are corrected from each other, italics show the variations, asterisks mark lines omitted in Hesperides, and a dagger the absence of lines subsequently added.
"So swift streams meet, so springs with gladder smiles
Meet after long divorcement made by isles:
When love (the child of likeness) urgeth on
Their crystal waters to an union.
So meet stol'n kisses when the moonie night
Calls forth fierce lovers to their wisht delight:
So kings and queens meet, when desire convinces
All thoughts, save those that tend to getting princes.
As I meet thee, Soul of my life and fame!
Eternal Lamp of Love, whose radiant flame
Out-darts the heaven's Osiris; and thy gems
Darken the splendour of his mid-day beams.
Welcome, O welcome, my illustrious spouse!
Welcome as are the ends unto my vows:
Nay, far more welcome than the happy soil
The sea-scourged merchant, after all his toil,
Salutes with tears of joy, when fires display
The smoking chimneys of his Ithaca.
Where hast thou been so long from my embraces,
Poor pitied exile? Tell me, did thy Graces
Fly discontented hence, and for a time
Choose rather for to bless some other clime?
+*Oh, then, not longer let my sweet defer
*Her buxom smiles from me, her worshipper!
Why have those amber looks, the which have been
Time-past so fragrant, sickly now call'd in
Like a dull twilight? Tell me, *hath my soul
*Prophaned in speech or done an act that is foul
*Against thy purer essence? For that fault
I'll expiate with sulphur, hair and salt:
And with the crystal humour of the spring
Purge hence the guilt, and kill the quarrelling.
Wilt thou not smile, nor tell me what's amiss?
Have I been cold to hug thee, too remiss,
Too temperate in embracing? Tell me, has desire
To-thee-ward died in the embers, and no fire
Left in the raked-up ashes, as a mark
To testify the glowing of a spark?
+I must confess I left thee, and appeal
'Twas done by me more to increase my zeal,
And double my affection[+]; as do those
Whose love grows more inflamed by being froze.
But to forsake thee, [+] could there ever be
A thought of such-like possibility?
When all the world may know that vines shall lack
Grapes, before Herrick leave Canary sack.
*Sack is my life, my leaven, salt to all
*My dearest dainties, nay, 'tis the principal
*Fire unto all my functions, gives me blood,
*An active spirit, full marrow, and, what is good,
Sack makes me sprightful, airy to be borne,
Like Iphyclus, upon the tops of corn.
Sack makes me nimble, as the wingèd hours,
To dance and caper o'er the tops of flowers,
And ride the sunbeams. Can there be a thing
Under the cope of heaven that can bring
More joy unto my soul, or can present
My Genius with a fuller blandishment?
Illustrious Idol! Can the Egyptians seek
Help from the garlick, onion and the leek,
And pay no vows to thee, who art the best
God, and far more transcending than the rest?
Had Cassius, that weak water-drinker, known
Thee in the Vine, or had but tasted one
Small chalice of thy nectar, he, even he
As the wise Cato had approved of thee.
Had not Jove's son, the rash Tyrinthian swain
(Invited to the Thesbian banquet), ta'ne
Full goblets of thy [+] blood; his *lustful sprite
Had not kept heat for fifty maids that night.
+As Queens meet Queens, so let sack come to me
Or as Cleopatra unto Anthonie,
When her high visage did at once present
To the Triumvir love and wonderment.
Swell up my feeble sinews, let my blood
+Fill each part full of fire,* let all my good
Parts be encouraged, active to do
What thy commanding soul shall put me to,
And till I turn apostate to thy love,
Which here I vow to serve, never remove
Thy blessing from me; but Apollo's curse
Blast all mine actions; or, a thing that's worse,
When these circumstants have the fate to see
The time when I prevaricate from thee,
Call me the Son of Beer, and then confine
Me to the tap, the toast, the turf; let wine
Ne'er shine upon me; let my verses all
Haste to a sudden death and funeral:
And last, dear Spouse, when I thee disavow,
May ne'er prophetic Daphne crown my brow."
Certainly this manuscript version is in every way inferior to that printed in the Hesperides, and Herrick must be reckoned among the poets who are able to revise their own work.
The smoky chimneys of his Ithaca. Ovid, I. de Ponto, ix. 265:--
Non dubia est Ithaci prudentia sed tamen optat
Fumum de patriis posse videre focis.
Upon the tops of corn. Virgil (Æn. vii. 808-9) uses the same comparison of Camilla: Illa vel intactae segetis per summa volaret Gramina, nec teneras cursu laesisset aristas.
Could the Egyptians seek Help from the garlick, onion and the leek. Cp. Numbers xi. 5, and Juv., xi. 9-11.
Cassius, that weak water-drinker. Not, as Dr. Grosart queries: "Cassius Iatrosophista, or Cassius Felix?" but C. Cassius Longinus, the murderer of Cæsar. Cp. Montaigne, II. 2, and Seneca, Ep. 83: "Cassius totâ vitâ aquam bibit" there quoted.
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