His Farewell to Sack

Farewell thou thing, time past so known, so dear

To me as blood to life and spirit; near,

Nay, thou more near than kindred, friend, man, wife,

Male to the female, soul to body; life

To quick action, or the warm soft side

Of the resigning, yet resisting bride.

The kiss of virgins, first fruits of the bed,

Soft speech, smooth touch, the lips, the maidenhead :

These and a thousand sweets could never be

So near or dear as thou wast once to me.

O thou, the drink of gods and angels! wine

That scatter'st spirit and lust, whose purest shine

More radiant than the summer's sunbeam shows;

Each way illustrious, brave, and like to those

Comets we see by night, whose shagg'd portents

Foretell the coming of some dire events,

Or some full flame which with a pride aspires,

Throwing about his wild and active fires;

'Tis thou, above nectar, O divinest soul !

Eternal in thyself, that can'st control

That which subverts whole nature, grief and care,

Vexation of the mind, and damn'd despair.

'Tis thou alone who, with thy mystic fan,

Workst more than wisdom, art, or nature can

To rouse the sacred madness and awake

The frost-bound blood and spirits, and to make

Them frantic with thy raptures flashing through

The soul like lightning, and as active too.

'Tis not Apollo can, or those thrice three

Castalian sisters, sing, if wanting thee.

Horace, Anacreon, both had lost their fame,

Hads't thou not fill'd them with thy fire and flame.

Phoebean splendour! and thou, Thespian spring!

Of which sweet swans must drink before they sing

Their true pac'd numbers and their holy lays,

Which makes them worthy cedar and the bays.

But why, why longer do I gaze upon

Thee with the eye of admiration?

Since I must leave thee, and enforc'd must say

To all thy witching beauties, Go away.

But if thy whimpering looks do ask me why,

Then know that nature bids thee go, not I.

'Tis her erroneous self has made a brain

Uncapable of such a sovereign

As is thy powerful self. Prithee not smile,

Or smile more inly, lest thy looks beguile

My vows denounc'd in zeal, which thus much show thee

That I have sworn but by thy looks to know thee.

Let others drink thee freely, and desire

Thee and their lips espous'd, while I admire

And love thee, but not taste thee. Let my muse

Fail of thy former helps, and only use

Her inadultrate strength: what's done by me

Hereafter shall smell of the lamp, not thee.

Source: Works of Robert Herrick Vol. 1 (London Lawrence & Bullen, 1891)