Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

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“Now, Now The Mirth Comes” Dean-bourn, a rude River in Devon, by which sometimes he lived. ean-bourn, farewell; I never look to see Deane, or thy warty incivility. DThy rockie bottome, that doth teare thy streams And makes them frantick, ev'n to all extreames; To my content, I never sho'd behold, Were thy streames silver, or thy rocks all gold. Rockie thou art; and rockie we discover Thy men; and rockie are thy wayes all over. O men, O manners; Now, and ever knowne To be A Rockie Generation! A people currish; churlish as the seas; And rude (almost) as rudest Salvages. With whom I did, and may re-sojourne when Rockes turn to Rivers, Rivers turn to Men. Note: “Rockes turn[ed] to Rivers” in 1662 when Herrick was restored to his position in Dean Prior. Upon the troublesome times. 1. O! Times most bad, Without the scope Of hope Of better to be had! 2. Where shall I goe, Or whither run To shun This publique overthrow? Page 48 of 72
3. No places are (This I am sure) Secure In this our wasting Warre. 4. Some storms w'ave past; Yet we must all Down fall, And perish at the last. His returne to London. From the dull confines of the drooping West, To see the day spring from the pregnant East, Ravisht in spirit, I come, nay more, I flie To thee, blest place of my Nativitie! Thus, thus with hallowed foot I touch the ground, With thousand blessings by thy Fortune crown'd. O fruitfull Genius! that bestowest here An everlasting plenty, yeere by yeere. O Place! O People! Manners! fram'd to please All Nations, Customes, Kindreds, Languages! I am a free-born Roman; suffer then, That I amongst you live a Citizen. London my home is: though by hard fate sent Into a long and irksome banishment; Yet since cal'd back; henceforward let me be, O native countrey, repossest by thee! For, rather then I'le to the West return, I'le beg of thee first here to have mine Urn. Weak I am grown, and must in short time fall; Give thou my sacred Reliques Buriall. Page 49 of 72 Christmas Poetry By Robert Herrick
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Now, Now, The Mirth Comes - The Hymns and Carols of Christmas

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