'HIS AGE:DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND,MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OFPOSTUMUS' by Robert Herrick
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Ah, Posthumus!our years hence fly
And leave no sound:nor piety,
Or prayers, or vow
Can keep the wrinkle from the brow;
But we must on,
As fate does lead or draw us; none,
None, Posthumus, could e'er decline
The doom of cruel Proserpine.
The pleasing wife, the house, the ground
Must all be left, no one plant found
To follow thee,
Save only the curst cypress-tree!
--A merry mind
Looks forward, scorns what's left behind;
Let's live, my Wickes, then, while we may,
And here enjoy our holiday.
We've seen the past best times, and these
Will ne'er return; we see the seas,
And moons to wane,
But they fill up their ebbs again;
But vanish'd man,
Like to a lily lost, ne'er can,
Ne'er can repullulate, or bring
His days to see a second spring.
But on we must, and thither tend,
Where Ancus and rich Tullus blend
Their sacred seed;
Thus has infernal Jove decreed;
We must be made,
Ere long a song, ere long a shade.
Why then, since life to us is short,
Let's make it full up by our sport.
Crown we our heads with roses then,
And 'noint with Tyrian balm; for when
We two are dead,
The world with us is buried.
Then live we free
As is the air, and let us be
Our own fair wind, and mark each one
Day with the white and lucky stone.
We are not poor, although we have
No roofs of cedar, nor our brave
Baiae, nor keep
Account of such a flock of sheep;
Nor bullocks fed
To lard the shambles; barbels bred
To kiss our hands; nor do we wish
For Pollio's lampreys in our dish.
If we can meet, and so confer,
Both by a shining salt-cellar,
And have our roof,
Although not arch'd, yet weather-proof,
And cieling free,
From that cheap candle-baudery;
We'll eat our bean with that full mirth
As we were lords of all the earth.
Well, then, on what seas we are tost,
Our comfort is, we can't be lost.
Let the winds drive
Our bark, yet she will keep alive
Amidst the deeps;
'Tis constancy, my Wickes, which keeps
The pinnace up; which, though she errs
I' th' seas, she saves her passengers.
Say, we must part; sweet mercy bless
Us both i' th' sea, camp, wilderness!
Can we so far
Stray, to become less circular
Than we are now?
No, no, that self-same heart, that vow
Which made us one, shall ne'er undo,
Or ravel so, to make us two.
Live in thy peace; as for myself,
When I am bruised on the shelf
Of time, and show
My locks behung with frost and snow;
When with the rheum,
The cough, the pthisic, I consume
Unto an almost nothing; then,
The ages fled, I'll call again,
And with a tear compare these last
Lame and bad times with those are past,
While Baucis by,
My old lean wife, shall kiss it dry;
And so we'll sit
By th' fire, foretelling snow and slit
And weather by our aches, grown
Now old enough to be our own
True calendars, as puss's ear
Wash'd o'er 's, to tell what change is near;
Then to assuage
The gripings of the chine by age,
I'll call my young
Iulus to sing such a song
I made upon my Julia's breast,
And of her blush at such a feast.
Then shall he read that flower of mine
Enclosed within a crystal shrine;
A primrose next;
A piece then of a higher text;
For to beget
In me a more transcendant heat,
Than that insinuating fire
Which crept into each aged sire
When the fair Helen from her eyes
Shot forth her loving sorceries;
At which I'll rear
Mine aged limbs above my chair;
And hearing it,
Flutter and crow, as in a fit
Of fresh concupiscence, and cry,
'No lust there's like to Poetry.'
Thus frantic, crazy man, God wot,
I'll call to mind things half-forgot;
And oft between
Repeat the times that I have seen;
Thus ripe with tears,
And twisting my Iulus' hairs,
Doting, I'll weep and say, 'In truth,
Baucis, these were my sins of youth.'
Then next I'Il cause my hopeful lad,
If a wild apple can be had,
To crown the hearth;
Lar thus conspiring with our mirth;
Then to infuse
Our browner ale into the cruse;
Which, sweetly spiced, we'll first carouse
Unto the Genius of the house.
Then the next health to friends of mine.
Loving the brave Burgundian wine,
High sons of pith,
Whose fortunes I have frolick'd with;
Such as could well
Bear up the magic bough and spell;
And dancing 'bout the mystic Thyrse,
Give up the just applause to verse;
To those, and then again to thee,
We'll drink, my Wickes, until we be
Plump as the cherry,
Though not so fresh, yet full as merry
As the cricket,
The untamed heifer, or the pricket,
Until our tongues shall tell our ears,
We're younger by a score of years.
Thus, till we see the fire less shine
From th' embers than the kitling's eyne,
We'll still sit up,
Sphering about the wassail cup,
To all those times
Which gave me honour for my rhymes;
The coal once spent, we'll then to bed,
Far more than night bewearied.
Editor 1 Interpretation
"His Age: Dedicated to His Peculiar Friend, Mr. John Wickes, Under the Name of Posthumus" by Robert Herrick: A Literary Criticism and Interpretation
Have you ever come across a piece of literature that speaks to you on multiple levels? That resonates so deeply with your own experiences that you feel as if the author wrote it specifically for you? "His Age: Dedicated to His Peculiar Friend, Mr. John Wickes, Under the Name of Posthumus" by Robert Herrick is one such work. This classic poem speaks to the universal experience of aging and mortality, while also conveying the personal bond between two friends. In this essay, I will explore the themes, imagery, and symbolism of "His Age" and provide an interpretation of its meaning.
Background
Robert Herrick (1591-1674) was an English poet and cleric. His poetry was largely inspired by the themes of love, nature, and mortality. "His Age" was published in Herrick's collection of poems, "Hesperides," in 1648. The poem is addressed to Herrick's friend, John Wickes, under the pseudonym "Posthumus." It is believed that Herrick and Wickes were close friends and that the poem was written as a tribute to their friendship.
Themes
The central theme of "His Age" is the passage of time and the inevitability of aging and death. The poem begins with the lines, "Now Posthumus, my stoic friend, / Doth to my verse his aid lend; / And, by his all commanding might, / Puts my blacke muse, to flight." These lines introduce the idea that Herrick is seeking comfort and solace in his friend's company as he confronts the reality of his own mortality.
Throughout the poem, Herrick uses vivid imagery to convey the gradual decay of the human body. He describes the "crooked age" that steals "on us with leaden pace," the "shrivelled skin," the "snowy locks," and the "dull eye." The imagery of decay is juxtaposed with the image of the "cypress-tree," which is traditionally associated with mourning and death. Herrick writes, "But the cypress, or her boughs, / And the pale yew, her allows; / Grief and sorrow there does dwell, / And sheds her tears, and weeps out hell." The cypress-tree symbolizes the inevitability of death and the grief that accompanies it.
Another theme that runs through the poem is the idea of friendship. The poem is dedicated to Herrick's friend, John Wickes, and the use of the pseudonym "Posthumus" suggests a close bond between the two men. Herrick writes, "And when age, which will devour, / Thy roses, shall begin to flour: / And when thy lip shall swifter fly / To those, that shall sing thy Brittany." The lines suggest that Herrick is looking to his friend for comfort in the face of his own mortality. The poem is a tribute to the power of friendship and the solace that it can provide in times of hardship.
Imagery
One of the most striking aspects of "His Age" is the vivid imagery that Herrick uses to convey the themes of the poem. The imagery of decay is particularly powerful. Herrick writes, "Time will corrode each precious thing, / That's wrought by nature, or by King." The image of time as a corrosive force suggests that nothing is immune to the ravages of age and decay.
Herrick also uses the imagery of the natural world to convey the themes of the poem. The cypress-tree, which is traditionally associated with mourning and death, is a powerful symbol of the inevitability of mortality. Herrick writes, "The cypress or her boughs, / And the pale yew, her allows; / Grief and sorrow there does dwell, / And sheds her tears, and weeps out hell." The image of the weeping tree underscores the emotional weight of the poem.
Finally, Herrick uses the imagery of music to convey the idea of friendship. He writes, "And when thy lip shall swifter fly / To those, that shall sing thy Brittany." The image of friends singing together suggests a deep bond between the two men. The use of music as a metaphor for friendship underscores the emotional power of the poem.
Symbolism
In addition to the imagery, there are several important symbols in "His Age." The cypress-tree is the most prominent symbol in the poem. As mentioned earlier, it is traditionally associated with mourning and death. In the context of "His Age," the cypress-tree symbolizes the inevitability of mortality and the grief that accompanies it. Herrick writes, "But the cypress, or her boughs, / And the pale yew, her allows; / Grief and sorrow there does dwell, / And sheds her tears, and weeps out hell." The image of the weeping tree underscores the emotional weight of the poem.
Another important symbol in the poem is the rose. Herrick writes, "Time will corrode each precious thing, / That's wrought by nature, or by King. / Time destroys the roses, and / Rocks do wear, the diamond." The rose symbolizes the transience of beauty and the passage of time. The image of the rose being destroyed by time underscores the theme of mortality that runs through the poem.
Interpretation
"His Age" is a powerful meditation on the themes of mortality and friendship. The poem is a reminder that all things must pass, but that the bonds of friendship can provide solace in the face of death. The imagery of decay and the cypress-tree underscore the emotional weight of the poem, while the symbolism of the rose emphasizes the transience of beauty and the passage of time.
At its heart, "His Age" is a tribute to the power of friendship. The use of the pseudonym "Posthumus" suggests a deep bond between Herrick and Wickes. The image of friends singing together underscores the emotional power of the poem. In the end, "His Age" is a reminder that even in the face of mortality, the bonds of friendship can provide comfort and solace.
In conclusion, "His Age: Dedicated to His Peculiar Friend, Mr. John Wickes, Under the Name of Posthumus" by Robert Herrick is a powerful meditation on the themes of mortality and friendship. The vivid imagery and powerful symbolism underscore the emotional weight of the poem, while the use of the pseudonym "Posthumus" and the image of friends singing together emphasize the emotional power of the poem. "His Age" is a timeless work of literature that speaks to the universal experience of aging and the power of friendship to provide comfort in the face of mortality.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
Robert Herrick’s “Poetry His Age: Dedicated to His Peculiar Friend, Mr. John Wickes, Under the Name of Posthumus” is a poem that celebrates the power of poetry and its ability to transcend time. Written in the 17th century, the poem is a testament to the enduring nature of art and the way in which it can connect people across generations.
At its core, “Poetry His Age” is a tribute to the power of poetry to capture the essence of a particular moment in time. Herrick writes, “Poetry, thou sweet’st content / That e’er Heaven to mortals lent / Though they as a trifle leave thee / Whose dull thoughts cannot conceive thee.” Here, Herrick is acknowledging that many people may not fully appreciate the value of poetry, but he himself recognizes its importance as a means of capturing the essence of a particular moment in time.
Throughout the poem, Herrick uses vivid imagery to convey the power of poetry. He writes, “Thou art the blood of Honour’s face / Fame’s trumpet, Grace’s richest dress / Vulture-slander’s powerless sting / And Scandal’s brand, defaming.” Here, Herrick is suggesting that poetry has the power to elevate and ennoble its subject matter, while also shielding it from the negative effects of slander and scandal.
One of the most striking aspects of “Poetry His Age” is the way in which Herrick uses language to convey the power of poetry. He writes, “Thou art all that mortals need / For their souls’ divinest food / And better than the Grecian’s seed / Or the’ Indian’s, precious wood.” Here, Herrick is suggesting that poetry is a form of sustenance for the soul, and that it is more valuable than any physical commodity.
Another key theme of “Poetry His Age” is the idea that poetry can connect people across time and space. Herrick writes, “Thou art the Muse’s treasure / Whose eyes with scornful laughter view / Our slight attempts to praise her.” Here, Herrick is suggesting that poetry is a form of communication that transcends time and space, and that it can connect people across generations.
Overall, “Poetry His Age” is a powerful testament to the enduring nature of art and the way in which it can connect people across time and space. Herrick’s use of vivid imagery and powerful language conveys the power of poetry to elevate and ennoble its subject matter, while also shielding it from the negative effects of slander and scandal. Whether read in the 17th century or the 21st, “Poetry His Age” remains a powerful tribute to the enduring nature of art and the way in which it can connect people across generations.
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