| Herbert J.C. Grierson, ed. (1886–1960). Metaphysical Lyrics & Poems of the 17th C. 1921. |
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| George Herbert |
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| 92. The Collar |
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| I STRUCK the board, and cry'd, No more. | |
| I will abroad. | |
| What? shall I ever sigh and pine? | |
| My lines and life are free; free as the rode, | |
| Loose as the winde, as large as store. | 5 |
| Shall I be still in suit? | |
| Have I no harvest but a thorn | |
| To let me bloud, and not restore | |
| What I have lost with cordiall fruit? | |
| Sure there was wine | 10 |
| Before my sighs did drie it: there was corn | |
| Before my tears did drown it. | |
| Is the yeare onely lost to me? | |
| Have I no bayes to crown it? | |
| No flowers, no garlands gay? all blasted? | 15 |
| All wasted? | |
| Not so, my heart: but there is fruit, | |
| And thou hast hands. | |
| Recover all thy sigh-blown age | |
| On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute | 20 |
| Of what is fit, and not; forsake thy cage, | |
| Thy rope of sands, | |
| Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee | |
| Good cable, to enforce and draw, | |
| And be thy law, | 25 |
| While thou didst wink and wouldst not see. | |
| Away; take heed: | |
| I will abroad. | |
| Call in thy deaths head there: tie up thy fears. | |
| He that forbears | 30 |
| To suit and serve his need, | |
| Deserves his load. | |
| But as I rav'd and grew more fierce and wilde | |
| At every word, | |
| Me thoughts I heard one calling, Childe: | 35 |
| And I reply'd, My Lord. | |
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