Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A PANEGERICK TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON, by ROBERT HERRICK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

A PANEGERICK TO SIR LEWIS PEMBERTON, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Till I shall come again, let this suffice
Last Line: Good men, they find them all in thee.


Till I shall come again, let this suffice,
I send my salt, my sacrifice
To Thee, thy Lady, younglings, and as farre
As to thy Genius and thy Larre;
To the worn Threshold, Porch, Hall, Parlour, Kitchin,
The fat-fed smoking Temple, which in
The wholsome savour of thy mighty Chines
Invites to supper him who dines,
Where laden spits, warp't with large Ribbs of Beefe,
Not represent, but give reliefe
To the lanke-Stranger, and the sowre Swain;
Where both may feed, and come againe:
For no black-bearded Vigil from thy doore
Beats with a button'd-staffe the poore:
But from thy warm-love-hatching gates each may
Take friendly morsels, and there stay
To Sun his thin-clad members, if he likes,
For thou no Porter keep'st who strikes.
No commer to thy Roofe his Guest-rite wants;
Or staying there, is scourg'd with taunts
Of some rough Groom, who (yirkt with Corns) sayes, Sir
Y'ave dipt too long i'th' Vinegar;
And with our Broth and bread, and bits; Sir, friend,
Y'ave farced well, pray make an end;
Two dayes y'ave larded here; a third, yee know,
Makes guests and fish smell strong; pray go
You to some other chimney, and there take
Essay of other giblets; make
Merry at anothers hearth; y'are here
Welcome as thunder to our beere:
Manners knowes distance, and a man unrude
Wo'd soon recoile, and not intrude
His Stomach to a second Meale. No, no,
Thy house, well fed and taught, can show
No such crab'd vizard: Thou hast learnt thy Train,
With heart and hand to entertain:
And by the Armes-full (with a Brest unhid)
As the old Race of mankind did,
When eithers heart, and eithers hand did strive
To be the nearer Relative:
Thou do'st redeeme those times; and what was lost
Of antient honesty, may boast
It keeps a growth in thee; and so will runne
A course in thy Fames-pledge, thy Sonne.
Thus, like a Roman Tribune, thou thy gate
Early setts ope to feast, and late:
Keeping no currish Waiter to affright,
With blasting eye, the appetite,
Which fain would waste upon thy Cates, but that
The Trencher-creature marketh what
Best and more suppling piece he cuts, and by
Some private pinch tels danger's nie
A hand too desp'rate, or a knife that bites
Skin deepe into the Porke, or lights
Upon some part of Kid, as if mistooke,
When checked by the Butlers look.
No, no, thy bread, thy wine, thy jocund Beere
Is not reserv'd for Trebius here,
But all, who at thy table seated are,
Find equall freedome, equall fare;
And Thou, like to that Hospitable God,
Jove, joy'st when guests make their abode
To eate thy Bullocks thighs, thy Veales, thy fat
Weathers, and never grudged at.
The Phesant, Partridge, Gotwit, Reeve, Ruffe, Raile,
The Cock, the Curlew, and the quaile;
These, and thy choicest viands do extend
Their taste unto the lower end
Of thy glad table: not a dish more known
To thee, then unto any one:
But as thy meate, so thy immortall wine
Makes the smirk face of each to shine,
And spring fresh Rose-buds, while the salt, the wit
Flowes from the Wine, and graces it:
While Reverence, waiting at the bashfull board,
Honours my Lady and my Lord.
No scurrile jest; no open Sceane is laid
Here, for to make the face affraid;
But temp'rate mirth dealt forth, and so discreetly
that it makes the meate more sweet;
And adds perfumes unto the Wine, which thou
Do'st rather poure forth, then allow
By cruse and measure; thus devoting Wine,
As the Canary Isles were thine:
But with that wisdome, and that method, as
No One that's there his guilty glasse
Drinks of distemper, or ha's cause to cry
Repentance to his liberty.
No, thou know'st order, Ethicks, and ha's read
All Oeconomicks, know'st to lead
A House-dance neatly, and can'st truly show,
How farre a Figure ought to go,
Forward, or backward, side-ward, and what pace
Can give, and what retract a grace;
What Gesture, Courtship; Comliness agrees,
With those thy primitive decrees,
To give subsistance to thy house, and proofe,
What Genii support thy roofe,
Goodnes and Greatnes; not the oaken Piles;
For these, and marbles have their whiles
To last, but not their ever: Vertues Hand
It is, which builds, 'gainst Fate to stand.
Such is thy house, whose firme foundations trust
Is more in thee, then in her dust,
Or depth, these last may yeeld, and yearly shrinke,
When what is strongly built, no chinke
Or yawning rupture can the same devoure,
But fixt it stands, by her own power,
And well-laid bottome, on the iron and rock,
Which tryes, and counter-stands the shock,
And Ramme of time and by vexation growes
The stronger: Vertue dies when foes
Are wanting to her exercise, but great
And large she spreads by dust, and sweat
Safe stand thy Walls, and Thee, and so both will,
Since neithers height was rais'd by th'ill
Of others; since no Stud, no Stone, no Piece,
Was rear'd up by the Poore-mans fleece:
No Widowes Tenement was rackt to guild
Or fret thy Seeling, or to build
A Sweating-Closset, to annoint the silke-soft-skin,
or bath in Asses milke:
No Orphans pittance, left him, serv'd to set
The Pillars up of lasting Jet,
For which their cryes might beate against thine eares,
Or in the dampe Jet read their Teares.
No Planke from Hallowed Altar, do's appeale
To yond' Star-chamber, or do's seale
A curse to Thee, or Thine; but all things even
Make for thy peace, and pace to heaven.
Go on directly so, as just men may
A thousand times, more sweare, then say,
This is that Princely Pemberton, who can
Teach man to keepe a God in man:
And when wise Poets shall search out to see
Good men, They find them all in Thee.





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