Herrick’s speaker is completely captivated by the elaborate styling of a woman named Julia. He lingers over every artificial detail: the silk ribbons woven through her hair like a forest, the carefully placed flowers, the lace rising like a ship’s mast, and the intricate knots he can’t even name. There’s a delighted, almost giddy attention to these man-made flourishes — her “lawny films” and flowing silks that flirt and tease. The whole mood is one of playful enchantment; he’s not just admiring her, he’s being tempted and allured. In the end, he openly admits that his eye and heart are more taken with art than with nature. Rather than praising her untouched beauty, he celebrates the clever, constructed adornments that transform her into something bewitching and designed. It’s a lighthearted confession that artifice can be more seductive than simplicity.
ART ABOVE NATURE: TO JULIA — Summary
When I behold a forest spread With silken trees upon thy head; And when I see that other dress Of flowers set in comeliness; When I behold another grace In the ascent of curious lace, Which, like a pinnacle, doth shew The top, and the top-gallant too; Then, when I see thy tresses bound Into an oval, square, or round, And knit in knots far more than I. Can tell by tongue, or True-love tie; Next, when those lawny films I see Play with a wild civility; And all those airy silks to flow, Alluring me, and tempting so-- I must confess, mine eye and heart Dotes less on nature than on art.