The Hesperides and Noble Numbers

by Robert Herrick, A. C. Swinburne (Foreword), Alfred W. Pollard (Editor)

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

Genres: Poetry, Classics, 17th Century

360 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1648

About the author

Robert Herrick was a 17th-century English lyric poet and cleric. He is best known for Hesperides, a book of poems. This includes the carpe diem poem "To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time", with the first line "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may".

Librarian Note: There is more than one Robert Herrick in the GoodReads database. See this thread for more information.

Reviews

[Courtney Johnston · Rating 4 out of 5]

I think if I were to pick one poet from history to be my lover, it would be Robert Herrick. He is such a charmer. And he takes such seemingly straightforward pleasure in the sensual.

How could you not want to open a letter from him and find this?

Be the mistress of my choice,
Clean in manners, clear in voice;
Be she witty, more than wise,
Pure enough, though not precise;
Be she showing in her dress,
Like a civil wilderness,
That the curious may detect
Order in a sweet neglect;
Be she rolling in her eye,
Tempting all the passers by;
And each ringlet of her hair,
An enchantment, or a snare,
For to catch the lookers on;
But herself held fast by none.
Let her Lucrece all day be,
Thais in the night, to me.
Be she such, as neither will
Famish me, nor overfill.

('What kind of mistress he would have')

Or have this whispered to you one dark morning ...

I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which crawling one and every way
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
Methought her long small legs and thighs
I with my tendrils did surprise;
Her belly, buttocks, and her waist
By my soft nervelets were embraced.
About her head I writhing hung,
And with rich clusters (hid among
The leaves) her temples I behung,
So that my Lucia seemed to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curls about her neck did crawl,
And arms and hands they did enthrall,
So that she could not freely stir
(All parts there made one prisoner).
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts which maids keep unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took
That with the fancy I awoke;
And found (ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock than like a vine.

('The Vine')

A friend of mine, knowing my soft spot for Herrick, if not the full extent of my predilection, gave me this slim little 1938 hardcover for my birthday this year, and I've just spent a happy sunny hour immersed in it. The collection does not actually include either of the poems above (my two favourites) but it does convey his chief themes: that life is fleeting, love is good, the world is wonderful, nature is beautiful, and pleasure ... pleasure is there for us to enjoy.

He is, of course, the creator of 'Gather ye rose-buds while ye may, / Old Time is still a-flying; / And this same flower that smiles today / Tomorrow will be dying.' The central message of this poem seems to be 'marry quickly, before your bloom wears off'. This is the message too of 'Corinna's Going A-Maying', which is less familiar and thus less cloying, and concludes

Come, let us go, while we are in our prime;
And take the harmless folly of the time.
We shall grow old apace, and die
Before we know our liberty.
Our life is short, and our days run
As fast away as does the sun;
And as a vapour, or a drop of rain,
Once lost, can ne'er be found again,
So when or you or I are made
A fable, song, or fleeting shade,
All love, all liking, all delight
Lies drown'd with us in endless night.
Then while time serves, and we are but decaying,
Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying.

Less coy is 'Upon a delaying lady'

Come, come away
Or let me go;
Must I here stay
Because you're slow,
And will continue so;
--Troth, lady, no.

I scorn to be
A slave to state;
And since I'm free,
I will not wait,
Henceforth at such a rate,
For needy fate.

If you desire
My spark should glow,
The peeping fire
You must blow;
Or I shall quickly grow
To frost, or snow.

Herrick was a clergyman and never married; there is unanswered debate as to whether his Antheas and Julias and Dianemes were real women or imaginary muses. Of all his idols, it is Julia, I think, whose poems most touch my heart - there is a sweetness and playfulness to them that appeals, and 'The night piece, to Julia' (which is in the collection) is a favoured example:

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mis-light thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear without number.

Then Julia let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv'ry feet,
My soul I'll pour into thee.

Certainly, Herrick is no Marvell. But you have to love a guy who opens his book by telling you he sings

... of youth, of love, and have access
By these to sing of cleanly wantonness

I love that last phrase. I love it. And it leads beautifully into my favourite piece in this collection, 'Delight in disorder' (which reminds me a little of Cummings' 'a pretty girl who naked is / is worth a million statues')

A sweet disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness;
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction;
An erring lace, which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher;
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribands to flow confusedly;
A winning wave, deserving note,
In the tempestuous petticoat;
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility:
Do more bewitch me, than when art
Is too precise in every part.

[Bronte Madeleine · Rating 3 out of 5]

very hit or miss; liquefaction is now my favourite word

[Gabrielle Danoux · Rating 5 out of 5]

Une brève note de lecture en 5 étoiles et 5 mots-clés :
Mais avant toute chose, je mentionne que c'est admirablement bien traduit (édition bilingue) de l'anglais et présenté par Gérard Gacon.
# CAVALIER POETS : on parle aussi de « Sons of Ben », comme Ben Jonson. Il s'agit de poètes fidèles à la royauté : raffinement, dignité, opposition au puritanisme (Cromwell).
# METAPHYSICAL POET : Herrick, à moindre titre que John Donne en est ; concentration (poèmes brefs, un seul thème, pas de digressions), usage des « conceits » (sorte de périphrases/comparaisons de choses très différentes) où il se différencie de Donne.
# ÉROTISME : parfois très explicite, même si le poète était pourtant un « bachelor » comment on dit.
# CALLIGRAMME : un poème en forme de croix (p. 116-119).
# ÉPIGRAMMES : nombreux poèmes satiriques très courts.

[Tslyklu · Rating 1 out of 5]

Ugh, if you only have to read one poem then I guess I maybe wouldn't have realized he's crap, but reading through all of them... all he talks about is woman who sweat rose oil and tired metaphors for "pale" and his billion mistresses who are always satisfying him. He manages to make phallic vines wrapping around a woman sound tired and lazy, ~poetic~ fog too thick, very difficult to get through.