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Word Count: 966
I STRUCK the board and cryd 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 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 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 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 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 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 To suit and serve his need Deserves his load But as I ravd and grew more fierce and wilde At every word Methought I heard one calling Childe And I replyd My Lord The Collar Perhaps the best treatment of the subject of submission to the Divine Will is to be found in The Collar which is certainly among the most celebrated of Herberts lyrics Once again the form closely mirrors the argument The poem opens with an account of an exasperated outburst of rebellion by the poet I struck the board and cryd No more I will abroad What follows is a venting of spleen - an assertion of freedom a complaint of grievances against the life
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