George Herbert

Jordan

		Who says that fictions only and false hair
		Become a verse? Is there in truth no beauty?
		Is all good structure in a winding stair?
		May no lines pass, except they do their duty
5		Not to a true, but painted chair?



		Is it no verse, except enchanted groves
		And sudden arbours shadow coarse-spun lines?
		Must purling streams refresh a lover’s loves?
		Must all be veiled, while he that reads, divines,
10		Catching the sense at two removes?



		Shepherds are honest people; let them sing;
		Riddle who list, for me, and pull for prime;
		I envy no man’s nightingale or spring;
		Nor let them punish me with loss of rhyme,
15		Who plainly say, My God, My King.

Robert Clark