Mr. Herrick: His Daughter's Dowry.

Ere I go hence and be no more     Seen to the world, I'll give the score     I owe unto a female child,     And that is this, a verse enstyled     My daughter's dowry; having which,     I'll leave thee then completely rich.     Instead of gold, pearl, rubies, bonds     Long forfeit, pawned diamonds     Or antique pledges, house or land,     I give thee this that shall withstand     The blow of ruin and of chance.     These hurt not thine inheritance,     For 'tis fee simple and no rent     Thou fortune ow'st for tenement.     However after times will praise,     This portion, my prophetic bays,     Cannot deliver up to th' rust,     Yet I keep peaceful in my dust.     As for thy birth and better seeds     (Those which must grow to virtuous deeds),     Thou didst derive from that old stem     (Love and mercy cherish them),     Which like a vestal virgin ply     With holy fire lest that it die.     Grow up with milder laws to know     At what time to say aye or no;     Let manners teach thee where to be     More comely flowing, where less free.     These bring thy husband, like to those     Old coins and medals we expose     To th' show, but never part with. Next,     As in a more conspicuous text,     Thy forehead, let therein be sign'd     The maiden candour of thy mind;     And under it two chaste-born spies     To bar out bold adulteries,     For through these optics fly the darts     Of lust which set on fire our hearts.     On either side of these quick ears     There must be plac'd, for seasoned fears     Which sweeten love, yet ne'er come nigh     The plague of wilder jealousy.     Then let each cheek of thine entice     His soul as to a bed of spice     Where he may roll and lose his sense,     As in a bed of frankincense.     A lip enkindled with that coal     With which love chafes and warms the soul,     Bring to him next, and in it show     Love's cherries from such fires grow     And have their harvest, which must stand     The gathering of the lip, not hand;     Then unto these be it thy care     To clothe thy words in gentle air,     That smooth as oil, sweet, soft and clean     As is the childish bloom of bean,     They may fall down and stroke, as the     Beams of the sun the peaceful sea.     With hands as smooth as mercy's bring     Him for his better cherishing,     That when thou dost his neck ensnare,     Or with thy wrist, or flattering hair,     He may, a prisoner, there descry     Bondage more loved than liberty.     A nature so well formed, so wrought     To calm and tempest, let be brought     With thee, that should he but incline     To roughness, clasp him like a vine,     Or like as wool meets steel, give way     Unto the passion, not to stay;     Wrath, if resisted, over-boils,     If not, it dies or else recoils.     And lastly, see you bring to him     Somewhat peculiar to each limb;     And I charge thee to be known     By n'other face but by thine own.     Let it in love's name be kept sleek,     Yet to be found when he shall seek     It, and not instead of saint     Give up his worth unto the paint;     For, trust me, girl, she over-does     Who by a double proxy woos.     But lest I should forget his bed,     Be sure thou bring a maidenhead.     That is a margarite, which lost,     Thou bring'st unto his bed a frost     Or a cold poison, which his blood     Benumbs like the forgetful flood.     Now for some jewels to supply     The want of earrings' bravery     For public eyes; take only these     Ne'er travelled for beyond the seas;     They're nobly home-bred, yet have price     Beyond the far-fet merchandise:     Obedience, wise distrust, peace, shy     Distance and sweet urbanity;     Safe modesty, lov'd patience, fear     Of offending, temperance, dear     Constancy, bashfulness and all     The virtues less or cardinal,     Take with my blessing, and go forth     Enjewelled with thy native worth.     And now if there a man be found     That looks for such prepared ground,     Let him, but with indifferent skill,     So good a soil bestock and till;     He may ere long have such a wife     Nourish in's breast a tree of life.