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To The Right Honourable Mildmay, Earl Of Westmoreland.
By Robert Herrick
You are a lord, an earl, nay more, a man
Who writes sweet numbers well as any can;
If so, why then are not these verses hurled,
Like Sybil's leaves, throughout the ample world?
What is a jewel if it be not set
Forth by a ring or some rich carcanet?
But being so, then the beholders cry:
See, see a gem as rare as Belus' eye.
Then public praise does run upon the stone,
For a most rich, a rare, a precious one.
Expose your jewels then unto the view,
That we may praise them, or themselves prize you.
Virtue concealed, with Horace you'll confess,
Differs not much from drowsy slothfulness.
Extra Info:
Belus' eye, the eye onyx. "The stone called Belus' eie is white, and hath within it a black apple." (Holland's Pliny.)
With Horace (IV. Od. ix. 29):--
Paulùm sepultae distat inertiae
Celata virtus.
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