Born I was to be old, And for to die here; After that, in the mould Long for to lie here. But before that day comes, Still I be bousing; For I know, in the tombs There's no carousing. 72. TO LAURELS A funeral stone Or verse, I covet none; But only crave Of you that I may have A sacred laurel springing from my grave: Which being seen Blest with perpetual green, May grow to be Not so much call'd a tree, As the eternal monument of me. 73. ON HIMSELF Weep for the dead, for they have lost this light; And weep for me, lost in an endless night; Or mourn, or make a marble verse for me, Who writ for many. BENEDICTE. 74. ON HIMSELF Lost to the world; lost to myself; alone Here now I rest under this marble stone, In depth of silence, heard and seen of none. 75. TO ROBIN RED-BREAST Laid out for dead, let thy last kindness be With leaves and moss-work for to cover me; And while the wood-nymphs my cold corpse inter, Sing thou my dirge, sweet-warbling chorister! For epitaph, in foliage, next write this: HERE, HERE THE TOMB OF ROBIN HERRICK IS! 76. THE OLIVE BRANCH Sadly I walk'd within the field, To see what comfort it would yield; And as I went my private way, An olive-branch before me lay; And seeing it, I made a stay, And took it up, and view'd it; then Kissing the omen, said Amen; Be, be it so, and let this be A divination unto me; That in short time my woes shall cease, And love shall crown my end with peace. 77. THE PLAUDITE, OR END OF LIFE If after rude and boisterous seas My wearied pinnace here finds ease; If so it be I've gain'd the shore, With safety of a faithful oar; If having run my barque on ground, Ye see the aged vessel crown'd; What's to be done? but on the sands Ye dance and sing, and now clap hands. --The first act's doubtful, but (we say) It is the last commends the Play. 78. TO GROVES