ROBERT HERRICKS PLANT ALLUSIONS. 123 
next year following, his larger collection, the secular division of 
his writings, was printed. In honour of the west country in 
which the verses were written, in his Devonshire vicarage, the 
whole collection was entitled “Hesperides; or Works both 
Human and Divine.” Professor Henry Morley, from whose 
admirable edition of Herrick’s poems I propose to make a few 
quotations, calls Herrick “one of Nature’s poets,” and says, 
very truly, “ the love of flowers runs through all his verse.” In 
the poetical introduction of his book Herrick himself says : — 
“I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers.” 
And again : — 
. . . . “I write 
How roses first came red, and lilies white.” 
Herrick’s collection of poems is made up of a very large 
number of short lyrical pieces, full of melody, in which he tries 
nearly every cast of rhyme and metre. Many of his songs are 
love songs, written in honour of his ideal Julia, and in these 
pretty ditties are to be found many beautiful references to 
flowers. The serious object of his book seems to be to set forth 
in verse every mood, passion, and moral experience of human 
life, and to blend into the whole the teachings of his Christian 
faith, his love of Nature, and his loyalty to his unhappy king. 
His references to flowers are not made in the scientific spirit of 
the naturalist, but rather with the lofty sensuousness of the 
poet, who sees in the beauties of bud and blossom, in their 
colours, scents, and forms, the types and illustrations of all else 
in the world that is pure, and fair, and lovely. Upon his Julia’s 
recovery from sickness he writes : — 
“ Droop, droop no more, or hang the head, 
Ye roses almost withered ; 
New strength and newer purple get, 
Each here declining violet. 
O primroses ! let this day be 
A resurrection unto ye ; 
And to all flowers allied in blood, 
Or sworn to that sweet sisterhood, 
For health on Julia’s cheek ”... 
Then he dreams of a parliament of roses, when 
“ all those powers 
Voted the Rose the queen of flowers.” 
In his sadder moods Herrick wrote of his death, and of 
what men would think of him when he had passed away. He 
chose a laurel tree to mark his grave : — 
“ A funeral stone or verse, I covet none : 
But only crave of you that I may have 
A sacred laurel springing from my grave.” 
In one of his longer poems, dedicated to his brother, Her- 
