Probable date: Mon, 9 May 1994 01:56:35 GMT Antti A Lahelma (alahelma@cc.Helsinki.FI) wrote: Found this little gem while studying for a literature exam. It's a Beltane poem, so I found it a week too late -- hope you enjoy it anyway. ) The author is Robert Herrick (1591-1674), of whom the Norton Anthology of English Literature says "At the top of his poetic bent, in _Corinna's Going A-Maying_, Herrick produced a truly major lyric on the central theme of his life, the happy reconciliation of nature and nature's god. ... A recurrent theme in his work is a deftly balanced personal paganism -- private sacrifices to household gods, tiny rituals, and allusions to ancient creeds only half- seriously taken. The Puritans would have been scandalized had they realized that this minister of the holy gospel was half pagan and didn't even have the grace to be ashamed of the fact." [Herrick was a priest, but a very reluctant one. Social pressures had forced him to be ordained.] Corinna's Going A-Maying Get up! get up for shame! the blooming morn Upon her wings presents the god unshorn. (1) See how Aurora throws her fair Fresh-quilted colors through the air Get up, sweet slug-a-bed, and see The dew bespangling herb and tree. Each flower has wept and bowed towards the east Above an hour since, yet you not dressed; Nay, not so much as out of bed? When all the birds have matins said, And sung their thankful hymns, 'tis sin, Nay, profanation to keep in, Whenas a thousand virgins on this day Spring, sooner than the lark, to fetch in May. Rise, and put on your foliage, and be seen To come forth, like the springtime, fresh and green, And sweet as Flora. (2) Take no care For jewels for your gown or hair; Fear not; the leaves will strew Gems in abundance upon you; Besides, the childhood of the day has kept, Against you come, some orient pearls unwept; Come and receive them while the light Hangs on the dew-locks of the night, And Titan (3) on the eastern hill Retires himself, or else stands still Till you come forth. Wash, dress, be brief in praying Few beads are best when once we go a-Maying. Come, my Corinna, come; and, coming, mark How each field turns (into) a street, each street a park Made green and trimmed with trees; see how Devotion gives each house a bough Or branch each porch, each door ere this, An ark, a tabernacle is, Made up of whitethorn neatly interwove, As if here were those cooler shades of love. Can such delights be in the street And open fields, and we not see 't? Come, we'll abroad; and let's obey The proclamation made for May, And sin no more, as we have done, by staying; But, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying. There's not a budding boy or girl this day But is got up and gone to bring in May; A deal of youth, ere this, is come Back, and with whitethorn laden home. Some have dispatched their cakes and cram Before that we have left to dream; And some have wept, and wooed, and plighted troth, And chose their priest, ere we can cast off sloth. Many a green-gown has been given, (4) Many a kiss, both odd and even; (5) Many a glance, too, has been sent From out the eye, love's firmament; Many a jest told of the keys betraying This night, and locks picked; yet we're not a-Maying. Come, let us go while we are in our prime, And take the harmless folly of the time. We shall grow old apace, and die Before we know our liberty. Our life is short, and our days run As fast away as does the sun; And, as a vapor or a drop of rain Once lost, can ne'er be found again So when or you or I are made A fable, song, or fleeting shade, All love, all liking, all delight Lies drowned with us in endless night. Then while time serves, and we are but decaying Come, my Corinna, come, let's go a-Maying! Some explanations (1) Apollo, the sun-god whose hair (the rays of the sun) is never cut. (2) Flora was the Italian goddess of flowers, whose festival was in the spring. (3) The sun. (4) Got by rolling in the grass. (5) Kisses are odd and even in kissing games. LUX, -- Antti Lahelma GNOTHI SEAUTON "Tragedy is the farce that involves our alahelma@cc.helsinki.fi TUNNE ITSESI sympathies farce is the tragedy that University of Helsinki KNOW THYSELF happens to outsiders." --Aldous Huxley