The Poetry Corner

Mr. Herrick: His Daughter's Dowry.

By Robert Herrick

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.