Complete Poetical Works of George Herbert Page 3

  LOVE III.

  FINIS.

  THE CHURCH MILITANT

  L’ENVOY.

  THE PRINTERS TO THE READER.

  The dedication of this work having been made by the author to the Divine Majesty only, how should we now presume to interest any mortal man in the patronage of it? Much less think we it meet to seek the recommendation of the Muses, for that which himself was confident to have been inspired by a diviner breath than flows from Helicon. The world therefore shall receive it in that naked simplicity with which he left it, without any addition either of support or ornament more than is included in itself. We leave it free and unforestalled to every man’s judgement, and to the benefit that he shall find by perusal. Only for the clearing of some passages we have thought it not unfit to make the common Reader privy to some few particularities of condition and disposition of the Person.

  Being nobly born, and as eminently endued with gifts of the mind, and having by industry and happy education perfected them to that great height of excellency, whereof his fellowship of Trinity College in Cambridge, and his Oratorship in the University, together with that knowledge which the King’s Court had taken of him, could make relation far above ordinary. Quitting both his deserts and all the opportunities that he had for worldly preferment, he betook himself to the Sanctuary and Temple of God, choosing rather to serve at God’s Altar, than to seek the honour of State employments. As for those inward enforcements to this course (for outward there was none) which many of these ensuing verses bear witness of, they detract not from the freedom but add to the honour of this resolution in him. As God had enabled him, so he accounted him meet not only to be called but to be compelled to this service: wherein his faithful discharge was such as may make him justly a companion to the primitive Saints, and a pattern or more for the age he lived in.

  To testify his independency upon all others and to quicken his diligence in this kind, he used in his ordinary speech, when he made mention of the blessed name of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, to add, My Master.

  Next God, he loved that which God himself has magnified above all things, that is, his Word: so as he has been heard to make solemn protestation, that he would not part with one leaf thereof for the whole world, if it were offered him in exchange.

  His obedience and conformity to the Church and the discipline thereof was singularly remarkable. Though he abounded in private devotions, yet went he every morning and evening with his family to the Church; and by his example, exhortations and encouragements drew the greater part of his parishioners to accompany him daily in the public celebration of Divine Service.

  As for worldly matters, his love and esteem to them was so little, as no man can more ambitiously seek than he did earnestly endeavour the resignation of the Ecclesiastical dignity, which he was possessor of. But God permitted not the accomplishment of this desire, having ordained him his instrument for re-edifying of the Church belonging thereunto that had lain ruinated almost twenty years. The reparation whereof, having been uneffectually attempted by public collections, was in the end by his own and some few others’ private free-will offerings successfully effected. With the remembrance whereof, as of an especial good work, when a friend went about to comfort him on his deathbed, he made answer, It is a good work, if it be sprinkled with the blood of Christ: otherwise than in this respect he could find nothing to glory or comfort himself with, neither in this nor in any other thing.

  And these are but a few of many that might be said, which we have chosen to premise as a glance to some parts of the ensuing book, and for an example to the Reader. We conclude all with his own Motto, with which he used to conclude all things that might seem to tend any way to his own honour:

  Less than the least of God’s mercies.

  THE DEDICATION.

  Lord, my first fruits present themselves to thee;

  Yet not mine neither: for from thee they came,

  And must return. Accept of them and me,

  And make us strive, who shall sing best thy name.

  Turn their eyes hither, who shall make a gain:

  Theirs, who shall hurt themselves or me, refrain.

  THE CHURCH-PORCH.

  PERIRRHANTERIUM

  1

  Thou, whose sweet youth and early hopes enhance

  Thy rate and price, and mark thee for a treasure;

  Harken unto a Verser, who may chance

  Rhyme thee to good, and make a bait of pleasure.

  A verse may find him, who a sermon flies, 5

  And turn delight into a sacrifice.

  2

  Beware of lust: it doth pollute and foul

  Whom God in Baptism washt with his own blood.

  It blots thy lesson written in thy soul;

  The holy lines cannot be understood. 10

  How dare those eyes upon a Bible look,

  Much less towards God, whose lust is all their book?

  3

  Abstain wholly, or wed. Thy bounteous Lord

  Allows thee choice of paths: take no byways;

  But gladly welcome what he doth afford; 15

  Not grudging, that thy lust hath bounds and stays.

  Continence hath his joy: weigh both; and so

  If rottenness have more, let Heaven go.

  4

  If God had laid all common, certainly

  Man would have been th’ incloser: but since now 20

  God hath impaled us, on the contrary

  Man breaks the fence, and every ground will plough.

  O what were man, might he himself misplace!

  Sure to be cross he would shift feet and face.

  5

  Drink not the third glass, which thou canst not tame, 25

  When once it is within thee; but before

  Mayst rule it, as thou list; and pour the shame,

  Which it would pour on thee, upon the floor.

  It is most just to throw that on the ground,

  Which would throw me there, if I keep the round. 30

  6

  He that is drunken, may his mother kill

  Big with his sister; he hath lost the reins,

  Is outlaw’d by himself: all kind of ill

  Did with his liquor slide into his veins.

  The drunkard forfeits Man, and doth devest 35

  All worldly right, save what he hath by beast.

  7

  Shall I, to please another’s wine-sprung mind,

  Lose all mine own? God hath giv’n me a measure

  Short of his can, and body; must I find

  A pain in that, wherein he finds a pleasure? 40

  Stay at the third glass: if thou lose thy hold,

  Then thou art modest, and the wine grows bold.

  8

  If reason move not gallants, quit the room,

  (All in a shipwrack shift their several way)

  Let not a common ruin thee entomb: 45

  Be not a beast in courtesy; but stay,

  Stay at the third cup, or forgo the place.

  Wine above all things doth God’s stamp deface.

  9

  Yet, if thou sin in wine or wantonness,

  Boast not thereof; nor make thy shame thy glory. 50

  Frailty gets pardon by submissiveness;

  But he that boasts, shuts that out of his story.

  He makes flat war with God, and doth defy

  With his poor clod of earth the spacious sky.

  10

  Take not his name, who made thy mouth, in vain: 55

  It gets thee nothing, and hath no excuse.

  Lust and wine plead a pleasure, avarice gain:

  But the cheap swearer through his open sluice

  Lets his soul run for nought, as little fearing.

  Were I an Epicure, I could bate swearing. 60

  11

  When thou dost tell another’s jest, therein

  Omit the oaths, which true wit cannot need:

  Pick out of tales the mirth, but
not the sin.

  He pares his apple, that will cleanly feed.

  Play not away the virtue of that name, 65

  Which is thy best stake, when griefs make thee tame.

  12

  The cheapest sins most dearly punished are;

  Because to shun them also is so cheap:

  For we have wit to mark them, and to spare.

  O crumble not away thy soul’s fair heap. 70

  If thou wilt die, the gates of hell are broad:

  Pride and full sins have made the way a road.

  13

  Lie not; but let thy heart be true to God,

  Thy mouth to it, thy actions to them both:

  Cowards tell lies, and those that fear the rod; 75

  The stormy working soul spits lies and froth.

  Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie:

  A fault, which needs it most, grows two thereby.

  14

  Fly idleness, which yet thou canst not fly

  By dressing, mistressing, and compliment. 80

  If those take up thy day, the sun will cry

  Against thee: for his light was only lent.

  God gave thy soul brave wings; put not those feathers

  Into a bed, to sleep out all ill weathers.

  15

  Art thou a magistrate? then be severe: 85

  If studious; copy fair, what time hath blurr’d;

  Redeem truth from his jaws: if soldier,

  Chase brave employments with a naked sword

  Throughout the world. Fool not: for all may have,

  If they dare try, a glorious life, or grave. 90

  16

  O England! full of sin, but most of sloth;

  Spit out thy phlegm, and fill thy breast with glory:

  Thy gentry bleats, as if thy native cloth

  Transfused a sheepishness into thy story:

  Not that they all are so; but that the most 95

  Are gone to grass, and in the pasture lost.

  17

  This loss springs chiefly from our education.

  Some till their ground, but let weeds choke their son:

  Some mark a partridge, never their child’s fashion:

  Some ship them over, and the thing is done. 100

  Study this art, make it thy great design;

  And if God’s image move thee not, let thine.

  18

  Some great estates provide, but do not breed

  A mast’ring mind; so both are lost thereby:

  Or else they breed them tender, make them need 105

  All that they leave: this is flat poverty.

  For he, that needs five thousand pound to live,

  Is full as poor as he, that needs but five.

  19

  The way to make thy son rich, is to fill

  His mind with rest, before his trunk with riches: 110

  For wealth without contentment, climbs a hill

  To feel those tempests, which fly over ditches.

  But if thy son can make ten pound his measure,

  Then all thou addest may be called his treasure.

  20

  When thou dost purpose ought (within thy power), 115

  Be sure to do it, though it be but small:

  Constancy knits the bones, and makes us stour,

  When wanton pleasures beckon us to thrall.

  Who breaks his own bond, forfeiteth himself:

  What nature made a ship, he makes a shelf. 120

  21

  Do all things like a man, not sneakingly:

  Think the king sees thee still; for his King does.

  Simp’ring is but a lay-hypocrisy:

  Give it a corner, and the clue undoes.

  Who fears to do ill, sets himself to task: 125

  Who fears to do well, sure should wear a mask.

  22

  Look to thy mouth; diseases enter there.

  Thou hast two sconses, if thy stomach call;

  Carve, or discourse; do not a famine fear.

  Who carves, is kind to two; who talks, to all. 130

  Look on meat, think it dirt, then eat a bit;

  And say withal, Earth to earth I commit.

  23

  Slight those who say amidst their sickly healths,

  Thou liv’st by rule. What doth not so, but man?

  Houses are built by rule, and common-wealths. 135

  Entice the trusty sun, if that you can,

  From his Ecliptic line: beckon the sky.

  Who lives by rule then, keeps good company.

  24

  Who keeps no guard upon himself, is slack,

  And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. 140

  Man is a shop of rules, a well truss’d pack,

  Whose every parcel underwrites a law.

  Lose not thyself, nor give thy humours way:

  God gave them to thee under lock and key.

  25

  By all means use sometimes to be alone. 145

  Salute thyself: see what thy soul doth wear.

  Dare to look in thy chest; for ’tis thine own:

  And tumble up and down what thou find’st there.

  Who cannot rest till he good fellows find,

  He breaks up house, turns out of doors his mind. 150

  26

  Be thrifty, but not covetous: therefore give

  Thy need, thine honour, and thy friend his due.

  Never was scraper brave man. Get to live;

  Then live, and use it: else, it is not true

  That thou hast gotten. Surely use alone 155

  Makes money not a contemptible stone.

  27

  Never exceed thy income. Youth may make

  Ev’n with the year: but age, if it will hit,

  Shoots a bow short, and lessens still his stake,

  As the day lessens, and his life with it. 160

  Thy children, kindred, friends upon thee call;

  Before thy journey fairly part with all.

  28

  Yet in thy thriving still misdoubt some evil;

  Lest gaining gain on thee, and make thee dim

  To all things else. Wealth is the conjurer’s devil; 165

  Whom when he thinks he hath, the devil hath him.

  Gold thou mayst safely touch; but if it stick

  Unto thy hands, it woundeth to the quick.

  29

  What skills it, if a bag of stones or gold

  About thy neck do drown thee? raise thy head; 170

  Take stars for money; stars not to be told

  By any art, yet to be purchasèd.

  None is so wasteful as the scraping dame.

  She loseth three for one; her soul, rest, fame.

  30

  By no means run in debt: take thine own measure. 175

  Who cannot live on twenty pound a year,

  Cannot on forty: he’s a man of pleasure,

  A kind of thing that’s for itself too dear.

  The curious unthrift makes his cloth too wide,

  And spares himself, but would his tailor chide. 180

  31

  Spend not on hopes. They that by pleading clothes

  Do fortunes seek, when worth and service fail,

  Would have their tale believèd for their oaths,

  And are like empty vessels under sail.

  Old courtiers know this; therefore set out so, 185

  As all the day thou mayst hold out to go.

  32

  In clothes, cheap handsomeness doth bear the bell.

  Wisdom’s a trimmer thing, than shop e’er gave.

  Say not then, This with that lace will do well;

  But, This with my discretion will be brave. 190

  Much curiousness is a perpetual wooing

  Nothing with labour; folly long a-doing.

  33

  Play not for gain, but sport. Who plays for more,

  Than he can lose with pleasure, stakes his heart;

  Perhaps hi
s wife’s too, and whom she hath bore; 195

  Servants and churches also play their part.

  Only a herald, who that way doth pass,

  Finds his crack’d name at length in the church glass.

  34

  If yet thou love game at so dear a rate,

  Learn this, that hath old gamesters dearly cost: 200

  Dost lose? rise up: dost win? rise in that state.

  Who strive to sit out losing hands, are lost.

  Game is a civil gunpowder, in peace

  Blowing up houses with their whole increase.

  35

  In conversation boldness now bears sway. 205

  But know, that nothing can so foolish be,

  As empty boldness: therefore first assay

  To stuff thy mind with solid bravery;

  Then march on gallant: get substantial worth.

  Boldness gilds finely, and will set it forth. 210

  36

  Be sweet to all. Is thy complexion sour?

  Then keep such company; make them thy allay:

  Get a sharp wife, a servant that will lour.

  A stumbler stumbles least in rugged way.

  Command thyself in chief. He life’s war knows, 215

  Whom all his passions follow, as he goes.

  37

  Catch not at quarrels. He that dares not speak

  Plainly and home, is coward of the two.

  Think not thy fame at ev’ry twitch will break:

  By great deeds show, that thou canst little do; 220

  And do them not: that shall thy wisdom be;

  And change thy temperance into bravery.

  38

  If that thy fame with ev’ry toy be pos’d,

  ’Tis a thin web, which poisonous fancies make:

  But the great soldier’s honour was compos’d 225

  Of thicker stuff, which would endure a shake.

  Wisdom picks friends; civility plays the rest.

  A toy shunn’d cleanly passeth with the best.

  39

  Laugh not too much: the witty man laughs least:

  For wit is news only to ignorance. 230

  Less at thine own things laugh; lest in the jest

  Thy person share, and the conceit advance.

  Make not thy sport, abuses: for the fly

  That feeds on dung, is colourèd thereby.

  40

  Pick out of mirth, like stones out of thy ground, 235

  Profaneness, filthiness, abusiveness.

  These are the scum, with which coarse wits abound:

  The fine may spare these well, yet not go less.

  All things are big with jest: nothing that’s plain,

  But may be witty, if thou hast the vein. 240