|
|
To The Right Honourable Philip, Earl Of Pembroke And Montgomery.
By Robert Herrick
How dull and dead are books that cannot show
A prince of Pembroke, and that Pembroke you!
You who are high born, and a lord no less
Free by your fate than fortune's mightiness,
Who hug our poems, honour'd sir, and then
The paper gild and laureate the pen.
Nor suffer you the poets to sit cold,
But warm their wits and turn their lines to gold.
Others there be who righteously will swear
Those smooth-paced numbers amble everywhere,
And these brave measures go a stately trot;
Love those, like these, regard, reward them not.
But you, my lord, are one whose hand along
Goes with your mouth or does outrun your tongue;
Paying before you praise, and, cockering wit,
Give both the gold and garland unto it.
Extra Info:
Cockering, pampering.
Philip, Earl of Pembroke and Montgomery. Philip Herbert (born 1584, died 1650), despite his foul mouth, ill temper, and devotion to sport ("He would make an excellent chancellor to the mews were Oxford turned into a kennel of hounds," wrote the author of Mercurius Menippeus when Pembroke succeeded Laud as chancellor), was also a patron of literature. He was one of the "incomparable pair of brethren" to whom the Shakespeare folio of 1623 was dedicated, and he was a good friend to Massinger. His fondness for scribbling in the margins of books may, or may not, be considered as further evidence of a respect for literature.
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 325 times.
|
|
