36. HOW THE WALL-FLOWER CAME FIRST, AND WHY SO CALLED. Why this flower is now call'd so, List, sweet maids, and you shall know. Understand, this firstling was Once a brisk and bonnie lass, Kept as close as Danaë was: Who a sprightly springall lov'd, And to have it fully prov'd, Up she got upon a wall, Tempting down to slide withal: But the silken twist untied, So she fell, and, bruis'd, she died. Love, in pity of the deed, And her loving-luckless speed, Turn'd her to this plant we call Now _the flower of the wall_. _Tempting_, trying. 37. WHY FLOWERS CHANGE COLOUR. These fresh beauties (we can prove) Once were virgins sick of love. Turn'd to flowers,--still in some Colours go and colours come. 38. TO HIS MISTRESS OBJECTING TO HIM NEITHER TOYING OR TALKING. You say I love not, 'cause I do not play Still with your curls, and kiss the time away. You blame me too, because I can't devise Some sport to please those babies in your eyes: By love's religion, I must here confess it, The most I love when I the least express it. _Small griefs find tongues_: full casks are ever found To give (if any, yet) but little sound. _Deep waters noiseless are_; and this we know, _That chiding streams betray small depth below_. So, when love speechless is, she doth express A depth in love and that depth bottomless. Now, since my love is tongueless, know me such Who speak but little 'cause I love so much. _Babies in your eyes_, see Note. 39. UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES. I have lost, and lately, these Many dainty mistresses: Stately Julia, prime of all: Sappho next, a principal: Smooth Anthea for a skin White, and heaven-like crystalline: Sweet Electra, and the choice Myrrha for the lute and voice: Next Corinna, for her wit, And the graceful use of it: With Perilla: all are gone; Only Herrick's left alone For to number sorrow by Their departures hence, and die. 40. THE DREAM. Methought last night Love in an anger came And brought a rod, so whipt me with the same; Myrtle the twigs were, merely to imply Love strikes, but 'tis with gentle cruelty. Patient I was: Love pitiful grew then And strok'd the stripes, and I was whole again. Thus, like a bee, Love gentle still doth bring Honey to salve where he before did sting. 42. TO LOVE. I'm free from thee; and thou no more shalt hear My puling pipe to beat against thine ear. Farewell my shackles, though of pearl they be; Such precious thraldom ne'er shall fetter me. He loves his bonds who, when the first are broke, Submits his neck unto a second yoke. 43. ON HIMSELF.