Robert Herrick, we are told, was a parish priest back there in the 17th century. One wonders if he started out his sermons like this:
WHENAS in silks my Julia goesI guess that's a little gay, with all the talking about the flowing line of the clothes, so it's more like what we expect from priests, these days; but still. Today's selections are delightful, frolicsome lyrics concerning 1) how awesome pretty women are, and 2) death.
Then, then (methinks) how sweetly flows
That liquefaction of her clothes.
Next, when I cast mine eyes and see
That brave vibration each way free;
O how that glittering taketh me!
We have short time to stay, as you,
|We have as short a Spring!|
|As quick a growth to meet decay|
|As you, or any thing.|
|We die,|| |
|As your hours do, and dry|
|Like to the Summer’s rain;|
|Or as the pearls of morning’s dew|
|Ne’er to be found again.|