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=/' 
 
E M B L E 31 S, 
 
 DIVINE AND MORAL, 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANCIS QUARLES. 
 
 NEW EDITION. 
 
 <,ARKFULLY REVISED AND CORRECTED, WITH 
 RECOMMENDATORY PREFACES BY THE 
 
 KEV. AUGUSTUS TOPLADY, 
 
 AKD THE 
 
 REV. JOHN RYLAND. 
 
 OOMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME WITH EIGHTY ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed at the Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand, 
 
 BY JOH>f NICHOLS. 
 
 JOHN BENNET, No. 4, THREE TUN PASSAGE, 
 25, & 26, NEWGATE STREET. 
 
 MDCCCXXXIX. 
 
U.C.BERKELEY LIBRARIES 
 
 CD^^^b^^7S 
 
PREFACE 
 
 £3 
 
 TO THE PRESEXT EDITION. 
 
 The immense number of editions through which the 
 Emblems of Francis Quarles have passed since their first 
 appearance, nearly two hundred years since, is the strongest 
 proof of their merit that can be adduced, particularly when 
 the great expense of embellishing each publication, inferior 
 as the engravings have in some instances been, is taken into 
 consideration. There is not a single circumstance in human 
 life to which some part of them does not allude : the expla- 
 nations of the figures are in easy agreeable verse ; to each of 
 them is added a striking quotation from one of the fathers 
 of the Church ; and the whole is briefly summed up in general 
 inference. In the present edition the Latin mottos are trans- 
 lated, and notes explanatory' of obsolete words and obscure 
 passages are added, so that it will be found one of the most 
 agreeable works that can be offered to the public ; especially 
 to the rising generation. Here they will meet with no dis- 
 tracting controversy — no doubts concerning religion ; but 
 entertainment and improvement go hand in hand together. 
 These Emblems are not only calculated to convey the most 
 important lessons of instruction into youthful minds, but to 
 convey them in the most pleasant and interesting manner — 
 by hieroglyphics, or figurative signs and symbols, of divine, 
 sacred, and supernatural things ; by which mode of commu- 
 nicating knowledge the fancv is charmed, the invention is 
 exercised, the mind informed, and the heart improved. 
 
 B 
 
PREFACE TO THE 
 
 There is a quaintness in the style of our author, for which 
 had he lived in a later age, the flowers of modern poetry 
 would have been a poor substitute — a quaintness which al- 
 though at first occasionally somewhat obscure, improves so 
 materially upon acquaintance, that the reader who can peruse 
 his Emhleins, without discovering beauties of the first order 
 must have in his soul very little of pious fervour — very little 
 of poetic feeling. That his subject demanded a style now 
 termed quaint our author was himself aware: asking what 
 Muse he shall invoke, he says — 
 
 *' Let all the Nine be silent ; I i-efuse 
 Their aid in this high task, for they abuse 
 
 The flames of love too much : assist me, David's Muse ! '' 
 Surely there is poetry as well as piety in the following : — 
 
 " Net as the thirsty soil desires soft show'rs 
 
 To quicken and refresh her embryon grain, 
 
 Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs 
 
 Request the bounty of a morning rain, 
 Do I desire my God : these in few hours 
 Re-wish what let their wishes did obtain : 
 But as the swift-foot hart doth wounded fly 
 To th' much desired streams, even so do I 
 
 Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. " 
 
 Quarles is richly deserving of the laurel he has gained. 
 His wit is bright, and his discrimination of characters keen ; 
 his descriptions display uncommon skill; his style suits his 
 turn of thought, however peculiar, and his turn of thought 
 his style. His writings convey a sort of wisdom in vrhich 
 
PRESENT EDITION. 
 
 young and old, learned and unlearned, are equally concerned, 
 and without which the greatest philosopher is an arrant fool. 
 For however highly we may esteem human arts and sciences 
 in their proper place, it will ever be true that '' the wisdom of 
 this world is foolishness with God." 
 
 Various and elaborate means are pursued, in order to fur- 
 nish the minds of our youth with fabulous knowledge, and to 
 fill them with the frivolous tales of heathenish science, the 
 very perfection of which deserves but little, if any, praise . 
 And it is, no doubt, a sad proof of universal degeneracy, that 
 the Metamorphoses of Ovid are preferred, in our schools, to 
 the sacred Realities of Moses and the Prophets ; and that a 
 young person is taught to be as much affected with the recital 
 of the dismal fate of Phaeton's sisters, as by that of Isaac, or 
 of a greater than Isaac, when offered up a sacrifice to the 
 God of Heaven. 
 
 Let us however, hope for better times and better things, 
 when every human science shall be made subservient to 
 divine, whenthe invaluable knowledge of the Sacred Writings 
 shall have its due place and due honour, and when Quarks' 
 Emblems shall at least be preferred to the comparative non- 
 sense of the Pantheon and Ovid's Epistles. 
 
 We shall now proceed to lay before our readers the opi- 
 nions of several very eminent and pious men on the merits of 
 the writings of Quarles generally, but more particularly of his 
 Emblems. " Some poets, " say the celebrated Fuller, author 
 of the History of the Worthies of England, " if debarred 
 prophaneness, wantonness, and satiricalness, that they may 
 neither abuse God, themselves, nor their neighbours, have 
 
vi. PREFACE TO THE 
 
 their tongues cut out in eflFect. Others only trade in wit at 
 the second hand, being all for translations, nothing for inven- 
 tion. Our Quarks was free from the fatilts of the first, as if 
 he had drank of Jordan instead of Helicon, and slept on 
 Mount Olivet for his parnassus ; and was happy in his own 
 invention. His visible poetry, I mean his Emblems, is ex- 
 cellent, catching therein the eye and fancy at one di-aught.'" — 
 Pope, in a letter to Bishop Atterbury, calls him a '' great 
 poet." — Langbaine says, " He was a poet that mixed religion 
 and fancy together ; and was very careful, in all his writings, 
 not to intrench upon good manners by any scurrility in his 
 works, or any ways offending against his duty to God, his 
 neighbour, and himself." 
 
 With the following testimonials, which we present at 
 length, we shall conclude, not doubting that, on a perusal of 
 the work, every candid and liberal Christian will consider it 
 worthy of the encomiums which have been bestowed on it, 
 and that the present edition will meet that encouragement 
 which will amply repay the heavy expense attending its 
 production. 
 
 Recommeiidations of the Work, 
 
 Sir, — As you have requested my opinion relative to the expe- 
 diency of republishing ' Quarks' Emblems' and the * School of the 
 Heart,' it is incumbent on me to aquaint you, that, as an humble 
 individual, I most sincerely vote for a new and correct edition of 
 those excellent books. The/ormer was of much spiritual use to me 
 at an early period of life ; and I still consider it as a very ingenious 
 and valuable treasury of Christian experience. The latter I have 
 lately perused ; and am strongly persuaded that the reprinting it 
 may answer advantageous piu-poses to the Church of Christ. 
 
PRESENT EDITION. 
 
 Be particularly careful to give neat aad beautiful impressions of 
 the numerous and expressive cuts -which illustrate each respective 
 article. I would advise you to keep strictly to the designs of the 
 original plates ; and not to vary from them in a single instance : 
 but the execution of them, as they stand in the old editions, calls for 
 improvement. In emblematic works much depends on the elegancy 
 of the engravings, which, if well finished, speak an ocxilar language, 
 singularly emphatic, and universally intelligible. The er/e very fre- 
 quently informs the understanding and effects the heart, when the 
 most laboured efforts of vocal rhetoric fail. 
 
 Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem, 
 Quam quae sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus, et quae 
 Ipse sibi tradit spectator. 
 
 With an earnest desire and hope that your intended undertaking 
 will be owned and blessed of God, to the establishment of his people 
 in knowledge, and to their growth in holiness and comfort, I 
 remain, 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Your sincere well-wisher, 
 
 AUGUSTUS MONTAGUE TOPLADY. 
 
 New-street, Jan. 3, 1777. 
 
 To the serious Part of the Christiayi World. 
 
 It is matter of pleasing surprise to find that such books as 
 ' Quarles' Emblems,' and the ' School of the Heart,' should be so 
 much called for as to incline any printer to venture on a new edi- 
 tion. I really imagined that the rage for romances, novels, and 
 plays, had entirely extinguished all taste for such productions as 
 these now presented to the public. 
 
 Uuarles was a man of spiritual wit and imagination, in the reign 
 of King Charles I, a time when poetic genius in the religious world 
 had not been cultivated. Spencer and Shakspeare were then the 
 only men that deserved the name of poets; and these were far enough 
 from the knowledge and taste of the people called Puritans ; so that 
 I think Quarles may be styled the ^rs/, as Herbert was the second, 
 divine poet of the English nation. 
 
PREFACE, &c. 
 
 In the productions of this excellent man there is nothing to please 
 the state of modern critics : his uncommon turns of thought ; the 
 quaintness of his poetic style ; but above all the depth of evangelic 
 fervour, the ardent piety, and the rich experience of the heart, can 
 be relished by none but those who, in the highest sense of the word, 
 deserve the name of true Christians. To such as these the following 
 work will be acceptable and delightful ; and by them, and the serious 
 part of their families, it will not be deemed impertinent in me to 
 recommend this work to their attention. 
 
 JOHN RYLAND. 
 
 Northampton, Jan. 8, 1777. 
 
 Sir, — * Francis Quarles' Emblems,' and the ' School of the 
 Heart, ' are works which have been so generally known and well 
 received for more than a century past, that nothing is necessary by 
 way of recommendation. The cuts have been highly entertaining 
 to younger minds ; while the subject matter of the poems, and the 
 general strain and manner of them, have been little less so to those 
 of riper years. What share of merit is due to the poet, we leave to 
 better judges. The poems appear to be, in the main, very consis- 
 tent with the evangelic doctrines, and not a little adapted both to 
 please and profit those who wish to have their hearts called off from 
 the present world, and fixed upon a better. 
 
 The editor of this new edition engages for the goodness of the 
 paper and letter, and the utmost correctness of the copy, and a set 
 of new copper-plates engraved in the neatest manner; which he flat- 
 ters himself vnll give the purchases an universal satisfaction. 
 
 And, as it is a work of uncommon expensiveness, he relies upon 
 the generosity of Christians of all denominations to encourage the 
 undertaking, which is a fresh to put into the hands of the public 
 what hath been long out of print, and of which so few fair and cor- 
 rect copies are to be met with. On these accounts we take the 
 liberty to recommend the present publication. 
 
 JOHN CONDER, 
 
 Master of the Academy at Homerton. 
 SAMUEL BREWER, 
 Independent Minister at ^.ondon. 
 
'#• 
 
B O O X I . 
 
 Ilsr.VO C-iVTLO^. 
 
 PiiDx Ccelum a(picu) Soliini ciolpicio. 
 fVhUc fn fitff^f Jfrni''n (>nr /rfir/f/ 7yn'tn///f,s- in\ 
 r/tc Srf(/ i//f /uirt/ily 7rrft,\//rr,y cd/t t/(\\'//f\vr . 
 
BOOK THE FIRST. 
 
 THE INVOCATION. 
 
 Rouse thee, my soul ! and drain thee from the dregs 
 Of vulgar thoughts; screw up the heighten'd pegs 
 Of thy sublime theorbo* for notes high'r — 
 And higher yet — that so the shrill-mouth'd choir 
 Of swift-wing'd seraphims may come and join, 
 And make the concert more than half divine. 
 Invoke no Muse ; let Heav'n be thy Apollo : 
 And let his sacred influences hallow 
 Thy-high bred strains. Let his full beams inspire 
 Thy ravish'd brains with more heroic fire : 
 Snatch thee a quill from the spread eagle's wing. 
 And, like the morning lark, mount up and sing : 
 Cast off these dangling plummets, that so clog 
 Thy laVring heart, which gropes in this dark fog 
 Of dungeon earth : let flesh and blood forbear 
 To stop thy flight, till this base world appear • 
 A thin blue landscape : let thy pinions soar 
 So high a pitch, that men may seem no more 
 Than pismires, crawling on the mole-hill Earth, 
 Thy ear untroubled with their frantic mirth : 
 Let not the frailty of thy flesh disturb 
 Thy new-concluded peace; let reason curb 
 Thy hot-mouth'd passion ; and let Heav'n's fire season 
 The fresh conceits of thy corrected reason : 
 Disdain to warm thee at Lust's smoky fires ; 
 Scorn, scorn to feed on thy old bloat desires. 
 Come, come, my soul ! hoist up thy higher sails ! 
 The wind blows fair : shall we still creep like snails. 
 That gild their ways with their own native slimes ? 
 No, we must fly like eagles ; and our rhymes 
 
 * The theorbo is a musical instrument resembling a lute. 
 
10 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 Must mount to Heav'n, and reach tli' Olympic ear : 
 Our Heav'n-blown fire must seek no other sphere. 
 
 Thou great Theanthropos, * that giv'st and crown'st 
 Thy gifts in dust, and from our dunghill ovvn'st 
 Reflected honour, taking by retail 
 What thou hast giv'n in gross, from lapsed, frail. 
 And sinful man : that drink'st full draughts, wherein 
 Thy children's lep'rous fingers, scurf'd with sin. 
 Have paddled : cleanse, O cleanse my crafty soul 
 From secret crimes, and let my thoughts control 
 My thoughts ! O teach me stoutly to deny 
 Myself, that I may be no longer I ! 
 Enrich my fancy, clarify my thoughts ; 
 Refine my dross ; O wink at human faults ! 
 And through this slender conduit of my quill 
 Convey thy current, whose clear stream may fill 
 The hearts of men with love, their tongues with praise : 
 Crown me with glory ; take, who list, the bays. 
 
 * Theanthropos is compounded of the Greek words Osog, God, 
 and avQpojTTOQ, man; and is a title given to our Saviour, asbeing both 
 God and man. 
 
B O 
 
 K r. 
 
 EMBLEM I 
 
 Totiis ]\f\uicliis ill Afalio ttovJIalilioMio pollliis eli . 
 T/in,v rt// ///•' ///.v f/tttt Jliui .v/i.v/ttin,v r/t /uu-f/t , 
 /''/fwi f/ii.v /'(((/ //re /ir.vf i/rcir ///rt'r /ii/,// /^/rt/t 
 
BOOK I.-EMBLEM L 
 
 James i. 14. 
 
 Every man is tempted ivhen he is drawn away by his 
 own lust, and enticed. 
 
 SERPENT. EVE. 
 
 Seyy. NoT eat? not taste ? not cast an eye 
 
 Upon the fruit of this fair tree ? and why ? 
 
 Why eat'st thou not what Heav'n ordain'd for food ? 
 
 Or canst thou think that bad which Heav'n call'd good? 
 
 Why was it made, if not to be enjoy'd ? 
 
 Neglect of favours makes a favour void : 
 
 Blessings unus'd pervert into a waste 
 
 As well as surfeits : woman, do but taste : 
 
 See how the laden boughs make silent suit 
 
 To be enjoy'd ; look how their bending fruit 
 
 Meet thee half-way : observe but how they crouch 
 
 To kiss thy hand : coy woman, do but touch : 
 
 Mark what a pure vermilion blush has died 
 
 Their swelling cheeks, and how for shame they hide 
 
 Their palsy heads, to see themselves stand by 
 
 Neglected : woman, do but cast an eye. 
 
 What bounteous Heav'n ordain'd for use, refuse not ; 
 
 Come, pull and eat : y' abuse the things ye use not. 
 
 Eve. Wisest of beasts, our great Creator did 
 R eserve this tree, and this alone forbid : 
 The rest are freely ours, which doubtles are 
 A s pleasing to the taste ; to th' eye as fair : 
 But, touching this, his strict commands are such, 
 'Tis dearh to taste, no less than death to touch. 
 
12 EMBLEMS. * BOOK I. 
 
 Serp. Pish ! death's a fable ; did not Heav'n inspire 
 Your equal elements with living fire, 
 Blown from the spring of life ? Is not that breath 
 Immortal ? come, ye are as free from death 
 As he that made ye. Can the flames expire 
 Which he has kindled ? can ye quench his fire ? 
 Did not the great Creator's voice proclaim 
 Whate'er he made, from the blue spangled frame 
 To the poor leaf that trembles, very good ? 
 Bless'd he not both the feeder and the food ? 
 Tell, tell me then, what danger can accrue 
 From such bless'd food, to such half-gods as you ? 
 Curb needless fears, and let no fond conceit 
 Abuse your freedom ; woman, take and eat. 
 
 Eve. 'Tis true, we are immortal; death is yet 
 Unborn, and, till rebellion make it debt. 
 Undue : I know the fruit is good, until 
 Presumptuous disobedience make it ill. 
 The lips that open to this fruit's a portal 
 To let in death, and makes immortal mortal. 
 
 Serp. You cannot die ; come, woman, taste, and 
 fear not. 
 
 Eve. Shall Eve transgress? I dare not, O, I dare 
 not! 
 
 Serp. Afraid ? why draw'st thou back thy tim'rous 
 arm? 
 Harm only falls on such as fear a harm. 
 Heav'n knows and fears the virtue of this tree : 
 'Twill make ye perfect gods as well as he. 
 Stretch forth thy hand, and let thy fondness never 
 Fear death : do, pull and eat, and live for ever. 
 
 Eve. 'Tis but an apple ; and it is as good 
 To do as to desire. Fruit's made for food : 
 I'll pull, and taste, and tempt my Adam, too, 
 To know the secrets of this dainty. 
 
 Serp, Do, 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 13 
 
 S. Chris* sup. Matth. 
 
 He forced him not : he touched him not : only said, 
 Cast thyself down ; that we may know whosoever obeys 
 the devil casts himself down : for the devil may sug- 
 gest ; compel he cannot. 
 
 S. Bern, in Ser. 
 
 It is the devil's part to suggest ; ours, not to consent. 
 As often as we resist him, so often we overcome him : 
 as often as we overcome him, so often we bring joy 
 to the angels, and glory to God ; who opposeth us, 
 that we may contend ; and assisteth us, that we may 
 conquer. 
 
 Epig. I. 
 
 Unlucky parliament ! wherein, at last. 
 Both houses are agreed, and firmly past 
 An act of death confirm'd by higher pow'rs 
 O had it had but such success as ours ! 
 
 c. 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM 11. 
 
 James i. 15. 
 
 Theyif when lust hath conceived, it hringeth forth sin ; 
 and sin, when it is finished, hringeth forth death. 
 
 Lament, lament ; look, look, v/hat thou hast done : 
 
 Lament the world's, lament thy own estate : 
 Look, look, by doing, how thou art undone ; 
 Lament thy fall, lament thy change of state : 
 Thy faith is broken, and thy freedom gone ; 
 
 See, see too soon, Avhat thou lament'st too late. 
 O thou that wert so many men, nay, all 
 Abridg'd in one, how has thy desp'rate fall 
 Destroy'd thy unborn seed, destroy'd thyself withal ! 
 
 Uxorious Adam, whom thy Maker made 
 
 Equal to augels that excel in pow'r, 
 AVhat hast thou done 1 O why hast thou obey'd 
 
 Thy own destruction 1 like a new-cropt flow'r, 
 How does the beauty of thy glory fad ! 
 
 How are thy fortunes blasted in an hour ! 
 
 How art thou cow'd that hadst the pow'r to quell 
 
 The spite of new-fall'n angels, baffle hell. 
 And vie with those that stood, and vanquish those 
 that fell ! 
 
i3 O O EC I. 
 
 >IBLEM 
 
 Sic !^^allL1acc•cit^it xnuciiiiLJiL oiniu' ^Uilxnii. 
 77/ fix Sift rt'/tct'fi'i/ , //f'rJtrfcrs/t// ////////// //r.v . 
 /'/r/// f'nr frnl (lr<-(f ii'7tat /itirHrouA' I77,v rr/'/'sf .' 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 15 
 
 See how the world (whose chaste and pregnant womb 
 
 Of late conceiv'd, and brought forth nothing ill) 
 Is now degenerated, and become 
 
 A base adult'ress, whose false births do fill 
 The earth with monsters — monsters that do roam 
 And rage about, and make a trade to kill : 
 
 Now Glutt'ny paunches ; Lust begins to spawn ; 
 "Wrath takes revenge, and Avarice a pawn 
 Pale Envy pines, Pride swells, and Sloth begins to 
 yawn. 
 
 The air, that whisper'd, now begins to roar, 
 
 And blust'ring Boreas blows the boiling tide ; 
 The white-mouth'd water now usurps the shore, 
 And scorns the pow'r of her tridental guide ; 
 The fire now burns, that did but warm before, 
 And rules her ruler with resistless pride : 
 
 Fire, water, earth, and air, that first were made 
 To be subdu'd, see how they now invade ; 
 They rule whom once they serv'd, command where 
 once obey'd. 
 
 Behold, that nakedness, that let bewray'd 
 
 Thy glory, now's become thy shame, thy wonder; 
 Behold, those trees, whose various fruits were made 
 For food, now turn'd a shade to shroud thee under ; 
 Behold, that voice, (which thou hast disobey'd), 
 That late was music, now affrights like thunder. 
 Poor man! are not thy joints grown sore with 
 
 shaking, 
 To view th'effect of thy bold undertaking. 
 That in one hour didst mar what Heav'n six days 
 was making? 
 
16 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 S. August, lib. 1. de Lib. Arbit. 
 
 It is a most just punishment that man should lose 
 that freedom which man would not use, yet had power 
 to keep if he would; and that he who had knowledge 
 to do what was right, and did not, should be deprived 
 of the knowledge of what was right ; and that he who 
 would not do righteously, when he had the power, 
 should lose the power to do it when he had the will. 
 
 Hugo de Anima, 
 
 They are justly punished that abuse lawful things, 
 but they are most justly punished that use unlawful 
 things : thus Lucifer fell from heaven ; thus Adam 
 lost his paradise. 
 
 Epig. 2. 
 
 See how these fruitful kernels, being cast 
 Upon the earth, how thick they spring ! how fast ! 
 A full-ear d crop and thriving, rank and proud ! 
 Prepost'rous man first sow'd, and then he plough'd. 
 
BOOK I 
 
 E M B T., E M 3 
 
 Ut poliar, pattor, pahjui-iiJ/jiojipolieris. 
 /f'/'/Acnf^ /j/t/ovmr/if ^'/ta/l. f/iv J\(/rt.y nf'fttfu/ . 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM III. 
 
 Prov. xiv. 13. 
 
 Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful ; and 
 the end of that mirth is heaviness. 
 
 Alas ! fond child, 
 
 How are thy thoughts beguil'd 
 To hope for honey from a nest of wasps ? 
 Thou may'st as well 
 
 Go seek for ease in hell, 
 Or sprightly nectar from the mouths of asps. 
 
 The world's a hive. 
 From whence thou canst derive 
 No good, but what thy soul's vexation brings : 
 But case thou meet 
 Some petty-petty-sweet, 
 Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings. 
 
 Why dost thou make 
 These murm'ring troops forsake 
 The safe protection of their waxen homes ? 
 This hive contains 
 No sweet that's worth thy pains ; 
 There's nothing here, alas! but empty combs. 
 
 For trash and toys, 
 And grief-engend'ring joys, 
 What torment seems to sharp for flesh and blood ? 
 What bitter pills, 
 Compos'd of real ills, 
 Men swallow down, to purchase one false good ! 
 
18 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 The dainties here 
 Are least what they appear ; 
 Thouojh sweet in hopes, yet in fruition sour : 
 The fruit that's yellow 
 Is found not always mellow; 
 The fairest tulip's not the sweetest flowV. 
 
 Fond youth, give o'er, 
 And vex thy soul no more 
 In seeking what were better far unfound ; 
 Alas ! thy gains 
 Are only present pains 
 To gather scorpions for a future wound. 
 
 What's earth ? or in it, 
 That, longer than a minute, 
 Can lend a free delight that can endure ? 
 O who would droil,* 
 Or delve in such a soil. 
 Where gain's uncertain, and the pain is sure ? 
 
 * Broil, i. e. «irudge. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 19 
 
 S. August. 
 
 Sweetness in temporal matters is deceitful : it is a 
 labour and a perpetual fear ; it is a dangerous pleasure, 
 whose beginning is without providence, and whose 
 end is not without repentance. 
 
 Hugo. 
 
 Luxury is an enticing pleasure, a bastard mirth, 
 which hath honey in her mouth, gall in her heart, and 
 a sting in her tail. 
 
 Bpig. 3. 
 
 What, Cupid, are thy shafts already made '( 
 And seeking honey to set up thy trade, 
 True emblem of thy sweets ! thy bees do bring 
 Honey in their mouths, but in their tails a sting. 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM IV. 
 
 Psalm Ixii. 9. 
 
 To he laid in the balance, it is altogether lighter 
 than vanity. 
 
 Put in another weight: 'tis yet too light : 
 
 And yet, fond Cupid, put another in ; 
 And yet another : still there's under weight : 
 Put in another hundred : put again ; 
 
 Add world to world ; then heap a thousand more 
 To that ; then, to renew thy wasted store, 
 Take up more worlds on trust, to draw thy balance 
 low'r. 
 
 Put in the flesh, with all her loads of pleasure ; 
 Put in great Mammon's endless inventory ; 
 
 Put in the pond'rous acts of mighty Caesar : 
 
 Put in the greater weight of Sweden's glory ; 
 
 Add Scipio's gauntlet ; put in Plato's gown: 
 Put Circe's charms, put in the triple crown. 
 
 Thy balance will not draw ; thy balance will not down. 
 
 Lord ! what a world is this, which, day and night, 
 
 Men seek with so much toil, with so much trouble ! 
 Which, weigh'd in equal scales, is found so light, 
 So poorly overbalanc'd with a bubble ! 
 
 Good God ! that frantic mortals should destroy 
 Their higher hopes, and place their idle joy 
 Upon such airy trash, upon so light a toy ! 
 
{)ms It'vior ; cuiplius ponderi addit /^Viixor. 
 
 H7if(/> /\sf/i, fif//tfr.vf in f/tr .Vrr/A t>/' /'',ifr / 
 V'/tfi/ /I'/tc/'f /o//(/ (ft/lif/ .vf/// /.s.(r/t/n/i/ H'r/if/if . 
 
BOOK I EMBLEMS. 21 
 
 Thou bold impostor, how hast thou befool'd 
 The tribe of man with counterfeit desire ! 
 How has the breath of thy false bellows cool'd 
 
 Heav'n's free-born flames, and kindled bastard fire ! 
 
 How hast thou vented dross instead of treasure. 
 
 And cheated man with thy false weights and 
 
 measure, 
 
 Proclaiming bad for good, and gilding death with 
 
 pleasure ! 
 
 The world's a crafty strumpet, most affecting 
 
 And closely following those that most reject her ; 
 But seeming careless, nicely disrespecting 
 And coyly flying those that most aflect her. 
 
 If thou be free, she's strange; if strange, she's free: 
 Flee, and she follows ; follow, and she'll flee : 
 Than she there's none more coy, there's none more 
 fond than she. 
 
 O what a crocodilian world is this, 
 
 Compos'd of treach'ries and insnaring wiles ! 
 She clothes destruction in a formal kiss, 
 And lodges death in her deceitful smiles : 
 
 She hugs the soul she hates; and there does 
 
 prove 
 The veriest tyrant, where vows to love ; 
 And is a serpent most when most she seems a dove. 
 
 Thrice happy he, whose nobler thoughts despise 
 
 To make an object of so easy gains : 
 Thrice happy he, who scorns so poor a prize 
 Should be the crown of his heroic pains: 
 
 Thrice happy he, that ne'er was born to try 
 Her frowns or smiles; or being born, did lie 
 In his sad nurse's arms an hour or two, die. 
 
22 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 St, August, lib. Confess. 
 
 O you that dote upon this world, for what victory 
 do ye fight ? Yor hopes can be crowned with no greater 
 reward than the world can give ; and what is the world 
 but a brittle thing full of dangers, wherein we travel 
 
 from lesser to greater perils ? O let all her vain, light, 
 and momentary glory perish with herself; and let us 
 be conversant with more eternal things. Alas ! this 
 world is miserable ; life is short, and death is sure. 
 
 Bpig. 4. 
 
 My soul, what's lighter than a feather ? Wind. 
 Than wind ? The fire. And what than fire ? The mind. 
 What's lighter than the mind? A thought. Than 
 
 thought ? 
 This bubble world. What than this bubble ? Nought. 
 
P O OK I 
 
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 77f/t.\- //I iirr/n/K(if fl'iif.vr the Jia/i is ^vcr/i , 
 /.)fx/i'r/ en f'/t it'<i/ili>ri S/to7't /-y Zn.^'t a/uf S^i/rr/i 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM V. 
 
 1. Cor. vii. 31. 
 
 The fashion of this world passeth away. 
 
 Gone are those golden days, wherein 
 Pale concsience started not at ugly sin : 
 
 When good old Saturn's peaceful throne 
 Was unusurped by his beardless son : 
 
 When jealous Ops ne'er fear'd th' abuse 
 Of her chaste bed, or breach of nuptial truce : 
 
 When just Astrsea pois'd her scales 
 In mortal hearts, whose absence earth bewails : 
 
 When froth-born Venus and her brat, 
 With all that spurious brood young Jove begat; 
 
 In horrid shapes were yet unknown; 
 Those halcyon days, that golden age, is gone. 
 
 There was no client then to wait 
 The leisure of his long-tail'd advocate; 
 
 The talion* law was in request, 
 And Chanc'ry Courts were kept in ev'ry breast : 
 
 Abused statutes had no tenters, 
 And men could deal secure without indentures : 
 
 * Talion laio, or the law of retaliation, a punishment in the 
 Mosaic law, whereby an e\il is returned similar to that committed. 
 
24 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 There was no peeping-hole to clear 
 The wittol's* eye from his incarnate fear : 
 
 There were no lustful cinders then 
 To broil the carbonado'd hearts of men : 
 
 The rosy cheeks did then proclaim 
 A shame of guilt, but not a guilt of shame : 
 
 There was no whining soul to start 
 At Cupid's twang, or curse his flaming dart ; 
 
 The boy had then but callow wings, 
 And fell Erenny's scorpions had no stings : 
 
 The better-acted world did move 
 Upon the fixed poles of truth and love. 
 
 Love essenc'd in the hearts of men : 
 Then reason rul'd, there was no passion then ; 
 
 Till lust and rage began to enter, 
 Love the circumPrence was, and love the centre ; 
 
 Until the wanton days of Jove, 
 The simple world was all compos'd of love ; 
 
 But Jove grew fleshly, false, unjust ; 
 Inferior beauty fill'd his veins with lust : 
 
 And cucqueant Juno's fury hurl'd 
 Fierce balls of rape into th' incestuous world : 
 
 Astrsea fled, and love return'd 
 From earth, earth boil'd with lust, with rage it burn'd, 
 
 And ever since the world hath been 
 Kept going with the scourge of lust and spleen. 
 
 * Wittol, a contented cuckold, 
 t Cucquean, lewd. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 25 
 
 S. Ambrose. 
 
 Lust is a sharp spur to vice, which always putteth 
 the affections into a false gallop. 
 
 Hugo. 
 
 Lust is an immoderate wantonness of the flesh, a 
 sweet poison, a cruel pestilence ; a pernicious poison, 
 which weakeneth the body of man, and effeminateth 
 the strength of an heroic mind. 
 
 S. 'August, 
 
 Envy is the hatred of another's felicity : in respect 
 of superiors, because they are not equal to them ; in 
 respect of inferiors, lest he should be equal to them ; 
 in respect of equals, because they are equal to 
 them : through envy proceeded the fall of the world, 
 and death of Christ. 
 
 Epig. 5. 
 
 What, Cupid, must the world be lash'd so soon ? 
 But made at morning, and be whipp'd at noon ? 
 'Tis like the wag that plays with Venus' doves, 
 The more 'tis lash'd, the more perverse it proves. 
 
BOOK L— EMBLEM VI. 
 
 EccLEs. ii. 17. 
 All is vanity and vexation of Spirit. 
 
 How is the anxious soul of man befool'd 
 
 In his desire, 
 That thinks a hectic fever may be cool'd 
 
 In flames of fire ; 
 Or hopes to rake full heaps of burnish'd gold 
 
 From nasty mire ! 
 A whining lover may as well expect 
 
 A scornful breast 
 To melt in gentle tears, as woo the world for rest. 
 
 Let Wit, and all her study'd plots, effect 
 
 The best they can : 
 Let smiling Fortune prosper and perfect 
 
 What Wit began ; 
 Let Earth advise with both, and so project 
 
 A happy man ; 
 Let Wit or fawning Fortune vie their best ; 
 
 He may be blest 
 With all the earth can give ; but earth can give no rest. 
 
B O O K I 
 
 E'MBLEM G. 
 
 -111. Crvicc (iita quLCS. 
 ,7 frr/.F tt/f>7fr t's- tr/fnt ii'n i/rt nf A'.sY / 
 
BOOK I. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 27 
 
 Whose gold is double with a careful hand. 
 
 His cares are double ; 
 The pleasure, honour, wealth of sea and land, 
 
 Bring but a trouble ; 
 The world itself, and all the world's command. 
 
 Is but a bubble. 
 The strong desires of man's insatiate breast 
 
 May stand possest 
 Of all that earth can give ; but earth can give no rest. 
 
 The world's a seeming paradise, but her own 
 
 And man's tormentor ; 
 Appearing fix'd, yet but a rolling-stone 
 
 Without a tenter ; 
 It is a vast circumference, where none 
 
 Can find a centre. 
 Of more than earth, can earth make none possest ; 
 
 And he that least 
 Regards this restless world, shall in this world find rest. 
 
 True rest consists not in the oft levying* 
 
 Of wordly dross : 
 Earth's miry purchase is not worth the buying ; 
 
 Her gain is loss ; 
 Her rest but giddy toil, if not relying 
 
 Upon her cross. 
 How wordlings droilf for trouble 1 that fond breast. 
 
 That is possest 
 Of earth without a cross, has earth without a rest. 
 
 * Revying is to stake at play a larger sum of money than another 
 has laid. 
 
 t Droil, labour. 
 
28 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 Cass* in Ps, 
 
 The cross is the invincible sanctuary of the humble, 
 the dejection of the proud, the victory of Christ, the 
 destruction of the devil, the confirmation of the faith- 
 lul, the death of the unbeliever, the life of the just. 
 
 Damascen. 
 
 The Cross of Christ is the key of Paradise ; the 
 weak man's staff; the convert's convoy ; the upright 
 man's perfection ; the soul and body's health ; the pre- 
 vention of all evil, and the procurer of all good. 
 
 Epig. 6. 
 
 Worldlings, whose whimp'ring folly holds the losses 
 Of honour, pleasure, health, and wealth, such crosses. 
 Look here, and tell me what your arms engross, 
 When the best end of what you hug's a cross ? 
 
B O O K 1. 
 
 E IVl B L E M 
 
 latet Hofiis.et Otia duois 
 '/7tr I've litw rfcsc hi it'tiil , tt/uf rafixt f/wxi krr/f 
 T/u' Sfti/ion /wre , am/ f^hu.v ,vrc//r</v .v/rrp .' 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM VII. 
 
 1 Peter v. 8. 
 
 Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, 
 as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking ivhom he 
 may devour. 
 
 Why dost shou suffer lustful sloth to creep, 
 Dull Cyprian lad, into thy wanton brows ? 
 Is this a time to pay thine idle vows 
 
 At Morpheus' shrine ? Is this a time to steep 
 
 Thy brains in wasteful slumbers ? Up, and rouse 
 
 Thy leaden spirit : Is this a time to sleep 1 
 Adjourn thy sanguine dreams, awake, arise, 
 Call in thy thoughts ; and let them all advise, 
 
 Hadst thou as many heads as thou hast wounded eyes. 
 
 Look, look, what horrid furies do await 
 
 Thy flatt'ring slumbers ! If thy drowsy head 
 But chance to nod, thou fall'st into a bed 
 
 Of sulph'rous flames, whose torments want a date. 
 Fond boy, be wise, let not thy thoughts be fed 
 
 "With Phrygian wisdom ; fools are wise too late : 
 Beware betimes, and let thy reason sever 
 Those gates which passion clos'd ; wake now or 
 never ; 
 
 For if thou nodd'st thou fall'st ; and falling, fall'st for 
 ever. 
 
30 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 Mark how the ready hands of Death prepare : 
 
 His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart ; 
 
 He aims, he levels at thy slumb'ring heart : 
 The wound is posting ; O be wise, beware. 
 
 What, has the voice of danger lost the art 
 To raise the spirit of neglected care ? 
 
 Well, sleep thy fill, and take thy soft reposes ; 
 
 But know, withal, sweet tastes have sour closes ; 
 And he repents in thorns that sleeps in beds of roses. 
 
 Yet, sluggard, wake, and gull thy soul no more 
 
 With earth's false pleasure, and the world's delight. 
 
 Whose fruit is fair and pleasing to the sight, 
 But sour in taste, false as the putrid core : 
 
 Thy flaring glass is gems at her half light ; 
 She makes thee seeming rich, but truly poor : 
 
 She boasts a kernel, and bestows a shell ; 
 
 Performs an inch of her fair-promis'd ell : 
 Her words protest a heav'n; her works produce a hell. 
 
 O thou, the fountain of whose better part 
 Is earth'd and gravell'd up with vain desire : 
 That daily wallow'st in the fleshly mire 
 
 And base pollution of a lustful heart, 
 
 That feel'st no passion but in wanton fire. 
 
 And own'st no torment but in Cupid's dart ; 
 Behold thy type : thou sitt'st upon this ball 
 Of earth secure ; while Death, that flings at all. 
 
 Stands arm'd to strike thee down, where flames attend 
 thy fall. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 31 
 
 S. Bern. 
 
 Security is nowhere ; neither in Heaven nor in 
 Paradise, much less in the world. In Heaven the 
 angels fell from the Divine Presence; in Paradise 
 Adam fell from his place of pleasure ; in the world 
 Judas fell from the school of our Saviour. 
 
 Hugo. 
 
 I eat secure, I drink secure, I sleep secure, even as 
 though 1 had passed the day of death, avoided the day 
 of judgment, and escaped the torments of hell-fire. I 
 play and laugh, as though I were already triumph- 
 ing in the kingdom of Heaven. 
 
 Epig, 
 
 Get up, my soul ! redeem thy slavish eyes 
 From drowsy bondage : O beware, be wise ! 
 Thy foe's before thee ; thou must fight or fly; 
 Life lies most open in a closed eye. 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM VIII. 
 
 Luke vi. 25. 
 
 Woe unto you that laugh, now ! for ye shall mourn 
 and weep. 
 
 The world's a popular disease, that reigns 
 
 Within the fro ward heart and frantic brains 
 
 Of poor distemper'd mortals, oft arising 
 
 From ill digestion, through th' unequal poising 
 
 Of ill-weigh 'd elements, whose light directs 
 
 Malignant humours to malign effects. 
 
 One raves and labours with a boiling liver : 
 
 Rends hair by handfuls, cursing Cupid's quiver : 
 
 Another, with a bloody flux of oaths. 
 
 Vows deep revenge : one doats ; the other loathes : 
 
 One frisks and sings, and cries " A flagon more, 
 
 To drench dry cares, and make the welkin* roar !" 
 
 Another droops ; the sunshine makes him sad ; 
 
 Heav'n cannot please : one's mop'd ; the other's mad : 
 
 One hugs his gold ; another lets it fly : 
 
 He knowing not for whom ; nor t' other why. 
 
 One spends his day in plots, his night in play ; 
 
 Another sleeps and slugsf both night and day : 
 
 * Welkin, the firmament, or sky. 
 t Slugs, to act slothfuUy. 
 
Fa riiu lie cat . 
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 ///// fair u/i/Lenf'anci'S ; and /cifLv iiith S/nile.s' 
 
 7/s mns f/ic JforM /tcr Irta/'r'r.s' /'e^/i/Vcf 
 
BOOK I EMBLEMS. 33 
 
 One laughs at this thing ; t' other cries for that ; 
 But neither one nor t' other knows for what. 
 Wonder of wonders ! what we ought t' evite* 
 As our disease, we hug as our delight. 
 'Tis held a symptom of approaching danger 
 "When disacquainted sense becomes a stranger, 
 And takes no knowledge of an old disease ; 
 But, when a noisome grief begins to please 
 The unresisting sense, it is a fear 
 That death has parley'd, and compounded there. 
 As, when the dreadful Thund'rer's awful hand 
 Pours forth a vial on th' infected land, 
 At first th' affrighten'd mortals quake and fear. 
 And ev'ry noise is thought the Thunderer : 
 But, when the frequent soul-departing bell 
 Has pav'd their ears with her familiar knell. 
 It is reputed but a nine-days' wonder ; 
 They neither fear the Thund'rer nor his thunder. 
 So, when the world (a worse disease) began 
 To smart for sin, poor new-created man 
 Could seek for shelter, and his gen'rous son 
 Knew by his wages what his hands had done : 
 But bold-fac'd mortals, in our blushless times. 
 Can sing and smile, and make a sport of crimes. 
 Transgress of custom, and rebel in ease. 
 We false-joy'd fools can triumph in disease, 
 And (as the careless pilgrim, being bit 
 By the tarantula, begins a fit 
 Of life-concluding laughter) waste our breath 
 In lavish pleasure, till we laugh to death. 
 * Evite, to shun or avoid. 
 
34 EMBLEMS. BOOK 
 
 Hugo de Anirna* 
 
 What profit is there in vain glory, momentary 
 mirth,the world's power,the flesh's pleasure, full riches, 
 noble descent, and great desires ? Where is their 
 laughter ? Where is their mirth ? Where their in- 
 solence — their arrogance? From how much joy to 
 how much sadness ! After how much mirth, how 
 much misery ! From how great glory are they fallen, 
 to how great torment ! What hath fallen to them may 
 befall thee, because thou art a man : thou art of earth; 
 thou livest of earth ; thou shalt return to earth. Death 
 expecteth thee every where ! Be wise, therefore, and 
 expect death every where. 
 
 Epig. 8. 
 
 What ails the fool to laugh ? Does something please 
 His vain conceit ? Or is' t a mere disease 1 
 Fool, giggle on, and waste thy wanton breath ; 
 Thy morning laughter breeds an ev'ning death. 
 
]::"M-BLE]\T O 
 
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BOOK I.— EMBLEM IX. 
 
 1 John ii. 17. 
 The world passeth away, and all the lusts thereof. 
 
 Dbaw near, brave sparks, whose spirits scorn to 
 light 
 Your hallow'd tapers but at honour's flame; 
 You, whose heroic actions take delight 
 To varnish over a new painted name ; 
 Whose high-bred thoughts disdain to take their flight, 
 But on th' Icarian wings of babbling Fame ; 
 
 Behold, how tott'ring are your high-built stories 
 Of earth, whereon you trust the ground-work of your 
 glories. 
 
 And you, more brain-sick lovers, that can prize 
 
 A wanton smile before eternal joys ; 
 That know no heav'n but in your mistress' eyes ; 
 
 That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoys : 
 That can, like crown-distemper'd fools, despise 
 
 True riches, and, like babies, whine for toys : 
 Think ye the pageants of you hopes are able 
 To stand secure on earth, when earth itself 's unstable? 
 
 Come, dunghill wordlings, you that root like swine. 
 
 And cast up golden trenches where ye come : 
 Whose only pleasure is to undermine, 
 
 And view the secrets of your mother's womb : 
 Come, bring your saint, pouch'd in his leathern 
 shrine, 
 And summon all your griping angels home : 
 Behold your world, the bank of all your store ; 
 The world ye so admire, the world ye so adore. 
 
3G EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 A feeble world, whose hot-mouth'd pleasures tire 
 Before the race ; before the start, retreat : 
 
 A faithless world, whose false delights expire 
 Before the term of half their promis'd date : 
 
 A fickle world, not worth the least desire, 
 
 Where ev'ry chance proclaims a change of state : 
 A feeble, faithless, fickle world, wherein 
 
 Each motion proves a vice, and every act a sin. 
 
 The beauty, that of late was in her flow'r. 
 
 Is now a ruin, not to raise a lust , 
 He that was lately drench'd in Danae's show'r. 
 
 Is master now of neither gold nor trust ; 
 Whose honour late was mann'd with princely pow'r, 
 His glory now lies buried in the dust ; 
 
 O who would trust this world, or prize what's 
 in it, 
 That gives and takes, and chops, and changes, ev'ry 
 minute ! 
 
 Nor length of days, nor solid strength of brain, 
 
 Can find a place wherein to rest secure : 
 The world is various, and the earth is vain ; 
 
 There's nothing certain here, there's nothing sure ; 
 We trudge, we travel, but from pain to pain. 
 And what's our only griefs our only cure : 
 
 The world's a torment ; he that would endeavour 
 To find the way to rest, must seek the way to leave 
 her. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 37 
 
 St. Greg, in Horn, 
 
 Behold, the world is withered in itself, yet flou- 
 risheth in our hearts, every where death, every where 
 grief, every where desolation : on every side we are 
 smitten ; on every side filled with bitterness ; and yet, 
 with the blind mind of carnal desire, we love her bit- 
 terness. It flieth and we follow it ; it falleth, yet we 
 stick to it: and, because we cannot enjoy it falling, 
 we fall with it, and enjoy it fallen. 
 
 Epig, 9. 
 
 If fortune fail, or envious Time but spurn, 
 The world turns round, and with the world we turn 
 "When Fortune sees, and lynx-ey'd Time is blind, 
 I'll trust thy joys, O world; till then, the wind. 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM X. 
 
 John viii. 44. 
 
 Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of you 
 father ye will do. 
 
 Here's your right ground : wag gently o'er this 
 
 black : 
 'Tis a short cast; y' are quickly at the jack ; 
 Rub, rub an inch or two ; two crowns to one 
 On this bowl's side; blow wind, 'tis fairly thrown : 
 The next bowl's worse that comes; come, bowl 
 
 away; 
 Mammon, you know the ground untutor'd, play : 
 Your last was gone ; a yard of strength, well spar'd, 
 Had touch'd the block : your hand is still too hard. 
 Brave pastime, readers, to consume that day, 
 Which, without pastime, flies too swift away ! 
 See how they labour ; as if day and night 
 Were both too short to serve their loose delight : 
 See how their curved bodies writhe, and screw 
 Such antic shapes as Proteus never knew : 
 One raps an oath, another deals a curse ; 
 He never better blow'd ; this vever worse : 
 
E-r.tt LE. tl L( 
 
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 y/f/- Sf4/n ci/\j// //ia( f/m.f //nirSffp/tqf/, rf„/,/r,.v 
 (^n riVAer Ait/e. n/cFo/(vWif/iit'roft/ Trv.v. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 39 
 
 One rubs his itchless elbow, shrugs, and laughs. 
 The other bends his beetle brows, and chafes : 
 Sometimes they whoop, sometimes their Stygian cries 
 Send their black Santos to the blushing skies: 
 Thus mingling humours in a mad confusion. 
 They make bad premises, and worse conclusion : 
 But Where's the palm that fortune's hand allows 
 To bless the victor's honourable brows ? 
 Come, reader, come ; I'll light thine eye the way 
 To view the prize, the while the gamesters play : 
 Close by the jack, behold, jill Fortune stands 
 To wave the game ; see in her partial hands 
 The glorious garland's held in open show, 
 To cheer the lads, and crown the conqu'ror's brow. 
 The world's the jack ; the gamesters that contend 
 Are Cupid, Mammon: that judicious friend. 
 That gives the ground, is Satan: and the bowls 
 Are sinful thoughts ; the prize, a crown for fools. 
 Who breathes that bowls not ? What bold tongue can 
 
 say, 
 Without a blush, he hath not bowl'd to-day ? 
 It is the trade of man, and ev'ry sinner 
 Has play'd his rubbers : ev'ry soul's a winner. 
 The vulgar proverb's crost, he hardly can 
 Be a good bowler and an honest man. 
 Good God I turn thou may Brazil thoughts anew ; 
 New-sole my bowls, and make their bias true. 
 I'll cease to game till fairer ground be giv'n, 
 Nor wish to win until the mark be Heav'n. 
 
40 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 S. Beiiiardt Lib. de Consid. 
 
 O you sons of Adam, you covetous generation, 
 what have ye to do with earthly riches, which are 
 neither true nor yours? Gold and silver are real earth, 
 red and white, which only the error of man makes, or 
 rather reputes, precious: in short, if they be yours, 
 carry them with you. 
 
 St. Hieron, in Ep. 
 
 O lust, thou infernal fire, whose fuel is gluttony ; 
 whose flame is pride ; whose sparkless are wanton 
 words ; whose smoke is infamy ; whose ashes are un- 
 cleanness ; whose end is hell. 
 
 Epig. 10. 
 
 Mammon, well foUow'd ; Cupid, bravely led : 
 Both touchers ; equal fortune makes a dead : 
 No reed can measure where the conquest lies : 
 Take my advice ; compound, and share the prize. 
 
>-J '-J XV i 
 
 ^luiidus ill E.xilium ruit . 
 
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 'f'/m.r If J)e.yf?neftr/t rti/i.s' //le //r/7// 'iiittv 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM XI 
 
 Ephes. ii. 2. 
 
 Ye walked according to the course of this world, accord- 
 ing to the prince of the air. 
 
 O WHITHER will this mad-brain world at last 
 
 Be driven ? Where will her restless wheels arrive ? 
 Why hurries on her ill-match'd pair so fast \ 
 
 O whither means her furious groom to drive I 
 What, will her rambling fits be never past ? 
 For ever ranging \ Never once retrieve ? 
 
 Will earth's perpetual progress ne'er expire ? 
 Her team continuing in their fresh career : 
 And yet they never rest, and yet they never tire. 
 
 Sol's hot-mouth'd steeds, whose nostrils vomit flame. 
 
 And brazen lungs belch forth quotidian fire. 
 Their twelve hours' task perform'd, grow stiff and 
 lame. 
 And their immortal spirits faint and tire : 
 At th' azure mountain's foot their labours claim 
 The privilege of rest, where they retire 
 
 To quench their burning fetlocks, and go steep 
 Their flaming nostrils in the western deep, 
 And 'fresh their tired souls with strength-restoring 
 sleep. 
 
42 EMBLEMS. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 But these prodigious hackneys, basely got 
 
 Twixt men and devils, made for race or flight, 
 Can drag the idle world, expecting not 
 
 The bed of rest, but travel with delight; 
 Who, never weighing way nor weather, trot 
 
 Thro' dust and dirt, and droil both day and nij^ht: 
 Thus droil these fiends incarnate, whose" free 
 
 pains 
 Are fed with dropsies and venereal blains. 
 No need to use the whip ; but strength to rule the 
 
 Poor captive world ? How has thy lightness giv'n 
 
 A just occasion to thy foes' illusion ! 
 O, how art thou betray'd, thus fairly driv'n 
 
 In seeming triumph to thy own confusion ! 
 How is thy empty — universe bereav'n 
 
 Of all true joys, by one false joy's delusion ! 
 So I have seen an unblown virgin fed 
 With sugar'd words so full, that she is led 
 A fair attended bride to a false bankrupt's bed. 
 
 Pull, gracious Lord ! Let not thine arm forsake 
 
 The world, impounded in her own devices : 
 Think of that pleasure that thou once didst take 
 
 Amongst the lilies and sweet beds of spices. 
 Hale strongly, thou whose hand has pow'r to slack 
 The swift-foot fury of ten thousand vices : 
 Let not thy dust-devouring dragon boast 
 His craft has won what Judah's lion lost : 
 Remember what is crav'd ; recount the price it cost. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 43 
 
 Isidor* Lih. 1. de Summo Bono, 
 
 By how much the nearer Satan perceiveth the 
 world to an end, by so much the more fiercely he 
 troubleth it with persecution : that knowing himself 
 is to be damned, he may get company in his 
 damnation. 
 
 Ci/p. in Ep. 
 
 Broad and spacious is the road to infernal life ; 
 there are enticements and death-bringing pleasures. 
 There the devil flattereth, that he may deceive ; 
 smileth, that he may endamage ; allureth ; that he 
 may destroy. 
 
 Epig. 11. 
 
 Nay, soft and fair, good world ; post not too fast ; 
 Thy journey's end requires not half this haste. 
 Unless that arm thou so disdain'st reprives* thee, 
 Alas! thou needs must go, the devil drives thee. 
 
 * Reprives, curbs, restrains ; from the French, reprimer. 
 
BOOK L— EMBLEM XII. 
 Isaiah Ixvi. 11. 
 
 Ye may suck, hut not be satisfied with the hreast of 
 her consolation. 
 
 What, never fill'd ? Be thy lips screw'd so fast 
 To th' earth's full breast? for shame, for shame 
 unseize thee ; 
 Thou tak'st a surfeit where thou should'st but taste. 
 And mak'st too much not half enough to please 
 thee. 
 Ah, fool, forbear ; thou swallowest at one breath 
 Both food and poison down ! thou draw'st both milk 
 and death. . 
 
 The ub'rous breasts, when fairly drawn, repast 
 The thriving infant with their milky flood ; 
 But, being overstrain'd, return at last 
 
 Unwholesome gulps compos'd of wind and blood. 
 
 A mod'rate use does both repast and please ; 
 
 Who strains beyond a mean, draws in and gulps 
 
 disease. 
 But O, that mean, whose good the least abuse 
 Makes bad, is too, too hard to be directed : 
 Can thorns bring grapes, or crabs a pleasing juice ? 
 There's nothing wholesome where the whole's 
 infected. 
 Unseize thy lips ; earth's Milk's a ripen'd core. 
 That drops from her disease, that matters from her 
 sore. 
 
R O O K 
 
 ;i 
 
 E-MBLETMIZ. 
 
 liKipcin n\v copi.'i (ceil . 
 
 /?/(•/!/{■ ///,•/■ //f/,y, i(/(t.y .' ///i.s- /tidifr /i/c /rrf/t/ . 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 45 
 
 Think'st thou that paunch, that burlies out thy coat 
 Is thriving fat ; or flesh, that seems so brawny ? 
 
 Thy paunch is dropsied and thy cheeks are bloat ; 
 Thy lips are white, and that complexion tawny ; 
 Thy skin's a bladder blown with wat'ry tumours ; 
 
 Thy flesh trembling bog, a quagmire full of humours. 
 
 And thou, whose thriveless hands are ever straining 
 Earth's fluent breasts into an empty sieve, 
 
 That always hast, yet always art complaining, 
 
 And whin'st for more than earth has pow'r to give ; 
 Whose treasure flows and flees away as fast ; 
 
 That ever hast, and hast, yet hast not what thou hast. 
 
 Go choose a substance, fool, that will remain 
 Within the limits of thy leaking measure ; 
 
 Or else go seek an urn that will retain 
 The liquid body of thy sleep'ry treasure : 
 Alas ! how poorly are thy labours crown'd ! 
 
 Thy liquor's never sweet, nor yet thy vessel sound. 
 
 What less than fool is man to prog and plot, 
 
 And lavish out the cream of all his care. 
 To gain poor seeming goods ; which, being got. 
 Make firm possession but a through fare ; 
 
 Or, if they stay, they furrow thoughts the deeper; 
 And, being kept with care, they loose their careful 
 keeper. 
 
46 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 S. Geog, Horn, 3. secund. Parte Ezech, 
 
 If we give more to the flesh than we ought, we 
 nourish an enemy ; if we give not to her necessity 
 what we ought, we destroy a citizen : the flesh is to 
 be satisfied so far as suffices to our good : whosoever 
 alloweth so much to her as to make her proud, knoweth 
 not how to be satisfied : to be satisfied is a great art; 
 lest, by the satiety of the flesh, we break forth into 
 the iniquity of her folly. 
 
 Hugo de Anima. 
 
 The heart is a small thing, but desireth great mat- 
 ters. It is not sufficient for a kite's dinner, yet the 
 whole world is not sufficient for it. 
 
 Epig, 12. 
 
 What makes thee, fool, so fat ? Fool, thee so bare ? 
 Ye suck the self-same milk, the self-same air : 
 No mean betwixt all paunch, and skin and bone ? 
 The mean's a virtue, and the world has none. 
 
r^ 
 
Dii. luilVLirrena Timor; da luihi Calcar ^Alitor 
 
 /)rl(l/e my iiot'M(v Zra/ FrrT/tin^^ o/'crr 
 
 /^rrttfit tar f/te Spur ef Hearts, firle^ti'of Love . 
 
BOOK L— EMBLEM XIII. 
 
 1 John iii. 
 
 Men love darkness rather than lightj because their 
 deeds are evil. 
 
 Lord, when we leave the world and come to thee, 
 
 How dull, how slug are we ! 
 How backward ! How prepost'rous is the motion 
 
 Of our ungain devotion ! 
 Our thoughts are millstones, and our souls are lead, 
 
 And our desires are dead : 
 Our vows are fairly promised, faintly paid ; 
 
 Or broken, or not made : 
 Our better work (if any good) attends 
 
 Upon our private ends : 
 In whose performance one poor wordly scoff 
 
 Foils us, or beats us off. 
 If thy sharp scourge find out some secret fault, 
 
 "We grumble, or revolt ; 
 And if thy gentle hand forbear, we stray. 
 
 Or idly lose the way. 
 Is the road fair 1 we loiter ; clogg'd with mire ? 
 
 We stick, or else retire 
 
48 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. 
 
 A lamb appears a lion ; and we fear 
 
 Each bush we see's a bear. 
 When our dull souls direct their thoughts to thee, 
 The soft-pac'd snail is not so slow as we. 
 But when at earth we dart our wing'd desire, 
 
 We burn, we burn like fire. 
 Like as the am'rous needle joys to bend 
 
 To her magnetic friend : 
 Or as the greedy lover's eye- balls fly 
 
 At his fair mistress' eye ; 
 So, so we cling to earth ; we fly and puff", 
 
 Yet fly not fast enough. 
 If Pleasure beckon with her balmy hand, 
 
 Her beck's a strong command : 
 If Honour calls us with her courtly breath, 
 
 An hour's delay is death : 
 If Profit's golden-finger'd charm inveigles, 
 
 We clip more swift than eagles : 
 Let Auster weep, or blust'ring Boreas roar, 
 
 Till eyes or lungs be sore : 
 Let Neptune swell, until his dropsy sides 
 
 Burst into broken tides : 
 Nor threat'ning rocks, nor winds, nor waves, nor fire, 
 
 Can curb our fierce desire : 
 Nor fire, nor rocks, can stop our furious minds, 
 
 Nor waves, nor winds : 
 How fast and fearless do our footsteps flee ! 
 The lightfoot roebuck's not so swift as we. 
 
BOOK I , EMBLEMS. 49 
 
 S. August, sup. Psal. Ixiv. 
 
 Two several loves built to several cities : the love 
 of God builds a Jerusalem ; the love of the world 
 builds a Babylon. Let every one inquire of himself 
 what he loveth, and he shall resolve himself of whence 
 he is a citizen. 
 
 S. August. Lib. 3. Confess. 
 
 All things are driven by their own weight, and tend 
 to their own centre : my weight is my love ; by that 
 I am driven withersoever I am driven^ 
 
 Ibidem. 
 
 Lord, he loveth thee the less, that loveth any thing 
 with thee, which he loveth not for thee. 
 
 Epig. 13. 
 
 Lord, scourge my ass, if she should make no haste, 
 
 And curb my stag, if he should flee too fast : 
 
 If he be over swift, or she prove idle. 
 
 Let love lend her a spur ; fear, him a bridle. 
 
BOOK I.— EMBLEM XIV 
 
 Psalm xiii. 3. 
 
 Lighten timie eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep of 
 death. 
 
 Will't ne'er be morning ? "Will that promis'd light 
 Ne'er break, and clear those clouds of night ? 
 Sweet Phosphor, bring the day, 
 Whose conqu'ring ray- 
 May chase these fogs : sweet Phosphor, bring the 
 day. 
 
 How long ! how long shall these benighted eyes 
 
 Languish in shades, like feeble flies 
 Expecting spring ? How long shall darkness soil 
 
 The face of earth, and thus beguile 
 Our souls of rightful action ? When will day 
 
 Begin to dawn, whose new-born ray 
 May gild the weathercocks of our devotion, 
 
 And give our unsoul'd souls new motion ? 
 Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ; 
 Thy light will fray 
 These horrid mists ; sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 
 
BOOK T 
 
 rivoipluM-c reticle 'Diem . 
 
 C r/nrrr /^/tr (//(,f>/nv S7tn,/r.\- ,"/M>>/// ,t/i'ftv, 
 Snwrf P/f,',sy//if>r, fir- cftr S/t/,, rr /ftrtr// t/ir 7),rv. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. Si 
 
 Let those have night that slily love t* immure 
 
 Their cloister'd crimes, and sin secure ; 
 Let those have night that blush to let men know 
 
 The baseness they ne'er blush to do ; 
 Let those have night that love to take a nap. 
 
 And loll in Ignorance's lap : 
 Let those whose eyes, like owls, abhor the light, 
 
 Let those have night, that love the night : 
 Sweet Phosphor, bring the day : 
 How sad delay 
 Afflicts dull hopes ! sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 
 
 Alas ! my light-in-vain-expecting eyes 
 
 Can find no objects but what rise 
 From this poor mortal blaze — a dying spark 
 
 Of Vulcan's forge, whose flames are dark 
 And dangerous ; a dull, blue-burning light, 
 
 As melancholy as the night : 
 Here's all the suns that glister in the sphere 
 Of earth : Ah me ! what comfort's here ? 
 Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ; 
 Haste, haste away, 
 Heav'n's loit'ring lamp ; sweet Phosphor, bring the 
 day. 
 
 Blow, Ignorance ! O thou, whose idle knee 
 
 Rocks earth into a lethargy. 
 And with thy sooty fingers has bedight 
 
 The world's fair cheeks, blow, blow thy spite : 
 Since thou hast puft our greater taper, do 
 
 Puff on, and out the lesser too : 
 If ere that breath-exiled flame return, 
 
 Thou hast not blown as it will burn : 
 Sweet Phosphor, bring the day : 
 Light will repay 
 The wrongs of night; sweet Phosphor, bring the day. 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK 
 
 S. August, in Joh. Ser. xix. 
 
 God is all to thee : If thou be hungry, he is bread ; 
 if tiursty, he is water ; if in darkness, he is light ; if 
 naked, he is a robe of immortality. 
 
 Alanus de Conq. Nat. 
 
 God is a light that is never darkened : an un- 
 wearied life that cannot die ; a fountain always flow- 
 ing ; a garden of life ; a seminary of wisdom ; a ra- 
 dical beginning of all goodness. 
 
 Epig. 14. 
 
 My soul, if Ignorance puff out this light, 
 She'll do a favour that intends a spite : 
 It seems dark abroad ; but take this light away. 
 Thy windows will discover break of day. 
 
Debilxtata Tides ; Xeiras ^Aitreea reliquit. 
 
 Ftiilh /urn' IS ireaA-e/iW .- cf (a/fs^itt/ Birf/i 
 /)/i'/ne A-s'/ra'a ,t/tats t/ir (f/( (mi/itj ^art/t . 
 
BOOK L— EMBLEM XV. 
 
 Rev. xii. 12. 
 
 The devil is come unto you having great wrath, because 
 he knoweth that he hath hut a short time. 
 
 Lord ! canst thou see and suffer ? Is thy hand 
 Still bound to th' peace? Shall earth's black mo- 
 narch take 
 A full possession of thy wasted land ? 
 
 O, will thy slumb'ring vengeance never wake, 
 Till full-ag'd law resisting Custom shake . 
 The pillars of thy right, by false command ? 
 
 Unlock thy clouds, great Thund'rer, and come 
 
 down ; 
 Behold whose temples wear thy sacred crown ; 
 Redress, redress our wrongs; revenge, revenge thy 
 own. 
 
 See how the bold usurper mounts the seat 
 
 Of royal majesty : how overstrawing 
 Perils with pleasure, pointing ev'ry threat 
 
 With bugbear death, by torments overawing 
 
 Thy frighted subjects , or by favours drawing 
 Their tempted hearts to his unjust retreat ; 
 
 Lord, canst thou be so mild, and he so bold ? 
 
 Or can thy flocks be thriving when the fold 
 Is govern'd by the fox ? Lord, canst thou see and 
 hold? 
 
54 EMBLEMS. BOOK 1, 
 
 That swifl-wing'd advocate, that did commence 
 Our welcome suits before the King of kings ; 
 
 That sweet ambassador, that hurries hence 
 
 What airs th' harmonious soul or sighs or sings, 
 See how she flutters with her idle wings ; 
 
 Her wings are dipt, and eyes put out by sense : 
 Sense-conqu'ring Faith is now grown blind and 
 
 cold, 
 And basely craven'd,* that, in times of old, 
 
 Did conquer Heav'n itself, do what th' Almighty 
 could. 
 
 Behold, how double Fraud does scourge and tear 
 
 Astrsea's wounded sides, plough'd up, and rent 
 With knotted cords, whose fury has no ear ; 
 
 See how she stands a pris'ner, to be sent 
 
 A slave, into eternal banishment, 
 I know not whither, O, I know not where : 
 
 Her patent must be cancell'd in disgrace ; 
 
 And sweet-lipp'd Fraud, with her divided face, 
 Must act Astrsea's part, must take Astrsea's place. 
 
 Faith's pinions dipt ? and fair Astrsea gone ? 
 
 Quick-seeing Faith now blind ? and Justice see ? 
 Has Justice now found wings 1 and has Faith none ? 
 
 What do we here ? who would not wish to be 
 
 Dissolv'd from earth, and, with Astreea, flee 
 From this blind dungeon to that sun-bright throne ? 
 
 Lord, is thy sceptre lost, or laid aside ? 
 
 Is hell broke loose, and all her fiends unty'd ? 
 Lord, rise, and rouse, and rule, and crush their fu- 
 rious pride. 
 
 Craven'd, disheartened, made to knock under, &c. 
 
BOOK I. EMBLEMS. 55 
 
 Peter Rav. in Matth. 
 
 The devil is the author of evil, the fountain of 
 wickedness, the adversary of the truth, the corrupter 
 of the world, man's perpetual enemy: he planteth 
 snares, diggeth ditches, spurreth bodies ; he goadeth 
 souls, he suggesteth thoughts, belcheth anger, ex- 
 poseth virtues to hatred, maketh vices beloved, soweth 
 error, nourisheth contentions, disturbeth peace, and 
 scattereth affliction. 
 
 Macar. 
 
 Let us suffer with those that suffer, and be crucified 
 with those that are crucified, that we may be glorified 
 with those that are glorified. 
 
 Savanar. 
 
 If there be no enemy, no fight ; if no fight, no vic- 
 tory ; if no victory, no crown. 
 
 Epig. 15. 
 
 My soul, sit thou a patient looker on ; 
 Judge not the play before the play be done : 
 Her plot has many changes : ev'ry day 
 Speaks a new scene ; the last act crowns the play. 
 
BOOK THE SECOND. 
 
 EMBLEM 1. 
 Isaiah 1. 11. 
 
 You that walk in the light of your own Jive, and in the 
 sparks that ye have kindled^ ye shall lie down 
 in sorrow. 
 
 Do, silly Cupid, snufF and trim 
 
 Thy false, thy feeble light. 
 And make her self-consuming flames more bright ; 
 Methinks she burns to dim. 
 Is this that sprightly fire. 
 Whose more than sacred beams inspire 
 The ravish'd hearts of men, and so inflame desire ? 
 
 See, boy, how thy unthrifty blaze 
 Consumes ; how fast she wanes ; 
 She spends herself, and her, whose wealth maintains 
 Her weak, her idle rays. 
 Cannot thy lustful blast, 
 Which gave it lustre, make it last \ 
 What heart can long be pleas'd, where pleasure 
 spends so fast ? 
 
^ic Jjiirmne Xtuaeix ademptum. 
 
 Sf .('////fr.f ///f S/ut /// //atirc .V/z/i/ff/c///' /■/•////// , 
 T/ij ^re/'/c J\\iy rc/ifi.v/'/K/ ii'tf/f /ii.v Afr/Ar . 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 67 
 
 Go, wanton, place thy pale-fac'd light 
 
 Where never breaking day 
 Intends to visit mortals, or display 
 The sullen shades of night : 
 Thy torch will burn more clear 
 In night's un-Titan'd hemisphere ; 
 Heav'n's scornful flames and thine can never co-appear. 
 
 In vain thy busy hands address 
 
 Their labour, to display 
 Thy easy blaze within the verge of day ; 
 The greater drowns the less ! 
 If Heav'n's bright glory shine. 
 Thy glimm'ring sparks must needs resign ; 
 Puff out Heav'n's glory then, or Heaven will work 
 out thine. 
 
 Go, Cupid's rammish pander, go, 
 
 Whose dull, whose low desire 
 Can find sufficient warmth from Nature's fire, 
 Spend borrow'd breath, and blow, 
 Blow wind made strong with spite ; 
 When thou hast pufF'd the greater light 
 Thy lesser spark may shine, and warm the new-made 
 night. 
 
 Deluded mortals, tell me, when 
 
 Your daring breath has blown 
 Heav'n's taper out, and you have spent your own, 
 What fire shall warm ye then ? 
 Ah, fools ! perpetual night 
 Shall haunt your souls with Stygian fright, 
 Where they shall boil in flames, but flames shall bring 
 no light. 
 
58 EMBLEMS. BOOK 11. 
 
 S. August. 
 
 The sufficiency of merit is to know that my merit is 
 not sufficient. 
 
 S. Greg, Mor. xxv. 
 
 By how much the less man seeth himself, by so 
 much the less he displeaseth himself; and by how 
 much the more he seeth the light of grace, by so much 
 the more he disdaineth the light of Nature. 
 
 St Greg, Mor. 
 
 The light of the understanding humility kindleth 
 and pride covereth. 
 
 Epig, 1. 
 
 Thou blow'st Heav'n's fire, the whilst thou go'st about, 
 
 Rebellious fool, in vain, to blow it out : 
 
 Thy folly adds confusion to thy death ; 
 
 Heav'n's fire confounds when fan'd with Folly's breath. 
 
V: C ) O 'Fv IT 
 
 E Ivd: B L E 1\ 
 
 DoTLec to turn. expJeat OrLoiiL. 
 /I//-'/- rrff.i-r /u'.y Cnnx. n7/ t/ii.v frir llrr/t/.y rust rrn/t,( . 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM II. 
 
 EccLES. iv. 8. 
 
 There is no end of all his labour; neither is his eye 
 satisfied with riches, 
 
 O How our widen'd arms can overstretch 
 
 Their own dimensions! How our hands can reach 
 
 Beyond iheir distance : How our yielding breast 
 
 Can shrink to be more full, and full possest 
 
 Of this inferior orb ! How earth refin'd 
 
 Can cling to sordid earth ! How kind to kind ! 
 
 "We gape, we grasp, we gripe, add store to store ; 
 
 Enough requires too much ; too much craves more. 
 
 We charge our souls so sore beyond our stint, 
 
 That we recoil or burst : the busy mint 
 
 Of our laborious thoughts is ever going, 
 
 And coining new desires ; desires not knowing 
 
 Where next to pitch ; but, like the boundless ocean. 
 
 Gain, and gain ground, and grow more strong by 
 
 motion. 
 The pale-fac'd lady of the black-ey'd night 
 First tips her horned brows with easy light, 
 Whose curious train of spangled nymphs attire 
 Her next night's glory with increasing fire ; 
 Each ev'ning adds more lustre, and adorns 
 The growing beauty of her grasping horns : 
 
60 EMBLEMS. BOOK 11. 
 
 She sucks and draws her brother's golden store, 
 
 Until her glutted orb can suck no more. 
 
 E'en so the vulture of insatiate minds 
 
 Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds 
 
 New fuel to increase her rav'nous fire ; 
 
 The grave is sooner cloy'd than man's desire : 
 
 "We cross the seas, and midst her waves we burn, 
 
 Transporting lives, perchance, that ne'er return : 
 
 We sack, we ransack to the utmost sands 
 
 Of native kingdoms and of foreign lands: 
 
 We travel sea and soil ; we pry, we prowl, 
 
 We progress, and we prog from pole to pole : 
 
 We spend our mid-day sweat, our midnight oil ; 
 
 We tire the night in thought, the day in toil : 
 
 We make art servile, and the trade gentile, 
 
 (Yet both corrupted with ingenious guile,) 
 
 To compass Earth, and with her empty store 
 
 To fill our arms, and grasp one handful more : 
 
 Thus seeking rest, our labours never cease. 
 
 But, as our years, our hot desires increase : 
 
 Thus we, poor little worlds ! with blood and sweat. 
 
 In vain attempt to comprehend the great : 
 
 Thus, in our gain, become we gainful losers, 
 
 And what's enclosed encloses the enclosers. 
 
 Now, reader, close thy book, and then advise ; 
 
 Be wisely worldly, be not worldly wise : 
 
 Let not thy nobler thoughts be always raking 
 
 The world's base dunghill ; vermin's took by taking: 
 
 Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap 
 
 Of wanton Delilah: the world's a trap. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 61 
 
 Hugo de Anima* 
 
 Tell me, where be those now, that so lately loved 
 and hugged the world? Nothing remaineth of them 
 but dust and worms : observe what those men were ; 
 what those men are. They were like thee; they did 
 eat, drink, laugh, and led merry days ; and in a mo- 
 ment slipt into hell. Here their flesh is food for 
 worms ; there their souls are fuel for fire, till they 
 shall be rejoined in an unhappy fellowship, and cast 
 into eternal torments; where they that were once 
 companions in sin shall be hereafter partners in 
 punishment. 
 
 . Epig, 2. 
 
 Gripe, Cupid, and gripe still, until that wind. 
 That's pent before, find secret vent behind : 
 And when thou'st done, hark here, I tell thee what, 
 Before I'll trust thy armful, I'll trust that. 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM III. 
 
 Job xviii, 8. 
 
 He is cast into a net hy his own feet, and walketh upon 
 a snare. 
 
 What ! nets and quiver too ? what need there all 
 
 These sly devices to betray poor men ? 
 Die they not fast enough when thousands fall 
 
 Before thy dart ! what need these engines then ? 
 Attend they not, and answer to thy call, 
 
 Like nightly coveys, where thou list, and when ? 
 What needs a stratagem where strength can 
 
 sway \ 
 Or what needs strength compel where none 
 gainsay ? 
 Or what needs stratagem or strength where hearts 
 obey? 
 
 Husband thy sleights : it is but vain to waste 
 
 Honey on those that will be catch'd with gall ; 
 Thou canst not, ah I thou canst not bid so fast 
 
 As men obey ; thou art more slow to call 
 Than they to come ; thou canst not make such haste 
 To strike, as they, being struck, make haste to fall. 
 Go save thy nets for that rebellious heart 
 That scorns thy pow'r, and has obtain'd the art 
 T' avoid thy flying shaft, to quench thy fiery dart. / 
 
BOOK ir. 
 
 EI;^LBI_ElvI 3 
 
 ^OTi mnat life ; led luuxiat ^Inior. 
 
 /Ff'.f ^t/t/r Jffrrh(r7t f/it,v irifl f'fit'/ fo //rvi'^ .■ 
 /If'/ //r,\- f'fthifi(//e(/ in the Sfittrtw v/"Jiofi' 
 
BOOK II, EMBLEMS. 63 
 
 Lost mortal ! how is thy destruction sure, 
 
 Between two bawds, and both without remorse ! 
 The one's a line, the other is a lure ; 
 
 This to entice thy soul ; that t' enforce. 
 Waylaid by both, how canst thou stand secure ? 
 That draws ; this woos thee to th-' eternal curse. 
 O charming tyrant, how hast thou befool'd 
 And slav'd poor man, that would not, if he 
 could ! 
 Avoid thy line, thy lure ; nay, could not, if he would ! 
 
 Alas ! thy sweet perfidious voice betrays 
 
 His wanton ears with thy Sirenian baits : 
 Thou wrapp'st his eyes in mists, then boldly lays 
 
 Thy lethal* gins before their crystal gates ; 
 Thou lock'st up ev'ry sense with thy false keys. 
 All willing pris'ners to thy close deceits : 
 His ear most nible where it deaf should be ; 
 His eye most blind where most it ought to see ; 
 And, when his heart's most bound, then thinks itself 
 most free. 
 
 Thou grand impostor ! how hast thou obtain'd 
 
 The wardship of the world ? Are all men turn'd 
 Idiots and lunatics ? Are all retain'd 
 
 Beneath thy servile bands ? Is none return'd 
 To his forgoten self? Has none regain'd 
 His senses ? Are their senses all adjourn'd 1 
 
 What, none dismiss'd thy court? Will not plump 
 
 fee 
 Bribe thy false fists to make a glad decree, 
 T' unfool whom thou hast fool'd, and set thy pris'ners 
 free ? 
 
 * Lethal, mortal, deadly. 
 
64 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 S. Bern, in Ser 
 
 In this world is much treachery, little truth : here 
 all things are traps ; here every thing is beset with 
 snares ; here souls are endangered, bodies are afflicted : 
 here all things are vanity and vexation of spirit. 
 
 Epig. 3. 
 
 Nay, Cupid, pitch thy trammel where thou please, 
 Thou canst not fail to take such fish as these. 
 Thy thriving sport will ne'er be spent : no need 
 To fear, when ev'ry cork's a world : Thou'lt speed. 
 
B O O K II 
 
 z m: }3 L E "m: 4 
 
 Quanx gxavB SerTiliaiw. elt (jij-odleTisEfcaparit. 
 
 Grfttl nuf.s'f^ f//r .S'/tti''rv /re ,irhc7'e h? ^your ..v/iarc 
 SiicA ^^li(ji/tt /fr/rf'.vhmmf^ fyills, /t' case jour (arc . 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM IV 
 
 HosEA xiii. 3. 
 
 They shall he as the chaff that is driven with a whirl- 
 wind out of the fioor, and as the smoke out of 
 the chimney. 
 
 Flint-breasted Stoics, you whose marble eyes 
 
 Contemn a Avrinkle, and whose souls despise 
 
 To follow Nature's too affected fashion. 
 
 Or travel in the regent walk of passion ; 
 
 Whose rigid hearts disdain to shrink at fears, 
 
 Or play at fast or loose, with smiles and tears ; 
 
 Come, burst your spleens with laughter to behold 
 
 A new-found vanity, which days of old 
 
 Ne'er knew : a vanity that has beset 
 
 The world, and made more slaves than Mahomet ; 
 
 That has condemn'd us to the servile yoke 
 
 Of slavery, and made us slaves to smoke. 
 
 But stay, why tax I thus our modern times 
 
 For new-blown follies, and for new-born crimes ; 
 
 Are we sole guilty, and the first age free ? 
 
 No, they were smok'd and slav'd as well as we : 
 
 What* s sweet-lipp'd Honour's blast but smoke \ 
 What's treasure 
 
 But very smoke ? And what more smoke than plea- 
 sure? 
 
6Q EMBLEMS. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Alas ! they're all but shadows, fumes, and blasts ; 
 That vanishes, this fades the other wastes. 
 The restless merchant, he that loves to steep 
 His brains in wealth, and lays his soul to sleep 
 In bags of bullion, sees th' immortal crown, 
 And fain would mount, but ingots keep him down. 
 He brags to-day, perchance, and begs to-morrow : 
 He lent but now ; wants credit, now, to borrow : 
 Blow wind ? the treasure's gone, the merchant's 
 
 broke ; 
 A slave to silver's but a slave to smoke. 
 Behold the glory-vying child of Fame, 
 That from deep wounds sucks forth an honour'd name; 
 That thinks no purchase worth the style of good, 
 But what is sold for sweat, and seal'd with blood : 
 That for a point, a blast of empty breath. 
 Undaunted gazes in the face of death ; 
 Whose dear-bought bubble, fill'd with vain renov.-n, 
 Breaks with a fillip, or a gen'ral's frown : 
 His stroke-got honour staggers with a stroke ; 
 A slave to honour is a slave to smoke. 
 And. that fond soul, which wastes his idle days 
 In loose delights, and sports about the blaze 
 Of Cupid's candle ; he that daily spies 
 Twin babies in his mistress' Geminies, 
 Whereto his sad devotion does impart 
 The sweet burnt-ofF'ring of a bleeding heart ; 
 See how his wings are sing'd in Cyprian fire. 
 Whose flames consume with youth, in age expire : 
 The world's a bubble^ all the pleasures in it, 
 Like morning vapours, vanish in a minute : 
 The vapours vanish, and the bubble's broke ; 
 A slave to pleasure is a slave to smoke. 
 Now, Stoic, cease thy laughter, and repast 
 Thy pickled cheeks with tears, and weep as fast.. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 67 
 
 Si. Hiei'dn, 
 
 That rich man is great who thinketh not himself 
 great because he is rich : the proud man (who is the 
 poor man) braggeth outwardly, but beggeth inwardly ; 
 he is blown up, but not full. 
 
 Petr. Rau, 
 
 Vexation and anguish accompany riches and ho- 
 nour : the pomp of the world, and the favour of the 
 people, are but smoke, and a blast suddenly vanish- 
 ing; which, if they commonly please, commonly bring 
 repentance ; and, for a minute of joy, they bring an 
 aofe of sorrow. 
 
 Epig. 4. 
 
 Cupid, thy diet's strange : it dulls, it rouses ; 
 It cools, it heats ; it binds, and then it looses : 
 Dull-sprightly-cold-hot fool, if e'er it winds thee 
 Into a loosness once, take heed ; it binds thee* 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM V. 
 
 Prov. xxiii. 5. 
 
 WiU thou set thine eyes upon that ivhich is not 9 for 
 riches make themselves wings ; they fly away as an 
 eagle* 
 
 False world, thou ly'st : thou canst not lend 
 
 The least delight : 
 Thy favours cannot gain a friend. 
 
 They are so slight : 
 Thy morning pleasures make an end 
 
 To please at night : 
 Poor are the wants that thou supply'st ; 
 And yet thou vaant'st, and yet thou vy'st 
 With Heaven ! fond earth, thou boast'st; false world, 
 
 thou ly'st. 
 
 Thy babbling tongue tells golden tales 
 
 Of endless treasure : 
 Thy bounty offers easy sales 
 
 Of lasting pleasure ; 
 Thou ask'st the Conscience what she ails, 
 
 And swear'st to ease her : 
 There's none can want where thou supply'st; 
 There's none can give where thou deny'st : 
 Alas! fond world, thou boast'st; false world, thou 
 
 ly'st. 
 
^OTL Qmnfi quod IxLc irtLcat Aitnim eil . 
 ll't A'fU'if, t/uit ofl n/nc/i tf/it/rrw ix net (icfrf . 
 
BOOK 11. EMBLEMS. 69 
 
 What well-advised ear regards 
 
 What Earth can say ? 
 Thy words are gold, but thy rewards 
 
 Are painted clay : 
 Thy cunning can but pack the cards ; 
 
 Thou canst not play : 
 Thy game at weakest, still thou vy'st ;* 
 If seen, and then revy'd, deny'st : 
 Thou art not what thou seem'st false world, thou ly'st. 
 
 Thy tinsel bosom seems a mint 
 
 Of new-coin'd treasure ; 
 A paradise, that has no stint, 
 
 No change, no measure ; 
 A painted cask, but nothing in 't, 
 
 Nor wealth, nor pleasure : 
 Vain earth, that falsely thus comply'st 
 With man ; vain man, that thus rely'st 
 On earth : vain man, thou doat'st ; vain earth, thou 
 
 ly'st. 
 
 What mean dull souls, in this high measure 
 
 To haberdash 
 In earth's base wares, whose greatest treasure 
 
 Is dross and trash ; 
 The height of whose enchanting pleasure 
 
 Is but a flash ? 
 Are these the goods that thou supply'st 
 Us mortals with ? Are these the high'st ? 
 Can these bring cordial peace ? False world, thou 
 
 ly'st. 
 
 * Vy'st, a worp used at cards ; i. e. to challenge. 
 
70 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 Pet. Bles. 
 
 The world is deceitful : her end is doubtful ; her 
 conclusion is horrible ; her Judge is terrible ; and her 
 punishment is intolerable. 
 
 S, August. Lib. Confess. 
 
 The vain-glory of this world is a deceitful sweet- 
 ness, a fruitless labour, a perpetual fear, a dangerous 
 honour ; her beginning is without providence, and her 
 end not without repentance. 
 
 Epig, 5. 
 
 World, thou'rt a traitor ; thou hast stamp'd thy base 
 And chymic metal with great Csesar's face ; 
 And with thy bastard bullion thou hast bart'red 
 For wares of price ; how justly drawn and quarter'd ! 
 
Sic decipit Oilns. 
 led- /Kf /(/lo/t t/ii.v 11 (■/•/' f . /rr T/ii/i>/.v a|l|n■,n^ 
 
BOOK II,— EMBLEM VI 
 
 Job XV. 31. 
 
 Let not him that is deceived trust in vanity ; for vanity 
 shall he his recompense. 
 
 Believe her not, her glass diffuses 
 False portraitures : thou canst espy 
 
 No true reflection : she abuses 
 Her misinform'd beholder's eye ; 
 
 Her crystal's falsely steel'd ; it scatters 
 
 Deceitful beams ; believe here not, she flatters. 
 
 This flaring mirror represents 
 
 No right proportion, hue, nor feature : 
 
 Her very looks are compliments ; 
 
 They make thee fairer, goodlier, greater : 
 The skilful gloss of her reflection 
 
 But paints the context of thy coarse complexion. 
 
 Were thy dimension but a stride. 
 Nay, weit thou statur'd but a span, 
 
 Such as the long-bill'd troops defy'd, 
 A very fragment of a man ? 
 
 She'll make thee Mimas, which ye will 
 
 The Jove-slain tyrant, or th' Ionic hill. 
 
72 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 Had surfeits, or th' ungracious star, 
 Conspir'd to make one common place 
 
 Of all deformities that are 
 
 Within the volume of thy face, 
 
 She 'd lend thee favour should outmove 
 
 The Troy-bane Helen, or the queen of love. 
 
 Were thy consum'd estate as poor 
 
 As Laz'rus or afflicted Job's, 
 She '11 change thy wants to seeming store, 
 
 And turn thy rags to purple robes : 
 
 She '11 make thy hide- bound flank appear 
 As plump as theirs that feast it all the year. 
 
 Look off, let not thy optics be 
 
 Abus'd : thou see'st not what thou should'st : 
 ThyselPs the object thou should'st see. 
 
 But 'tis thy shadow thou behold st : 
 
 And shadows thrive the more in stature, 
 The nearer we approach the light of nature. 
 
 Where Heav'n's bright beams look more direct, 
 The shadow shrinks as they grow stronger ; 
 
 But, when they glance their fair aspect, 
 The bold-fac'd shade grows larger, longer : 
 And, when their lamp begins to fall, 
 
 Th' increasing shadows lengthen most of all. 
 
 The soul that seeks the noon of grace 
 Shrinks in, but swells if grace retreat : 
 
 As Heav'n lifts up, or veils his face. 
 Our self-esteems grow less or great. 
 The least is greatest ; and who shall 
 
 Appear the greatest, are the least of all. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 73 
 
 Hugo, Lib* iii. de Anima. 
 
 In vain he lifteth up the eye of his heart to behold 
 his God, who is not first rightly advised to behold 
 himself : First, thou must see the visible things of 
 thyself, before thou canst be prepared to know the 
 invisible things of God ; for, if thou canst not ap- 
 prehend the things within thee, thou canst not com- 
 prehend the things above thee: the best looking-glass, 
 wherein to see thy GoD, is perfectly to see thyself. 
 
 Epig, 6. 
 
 Be not deceiv'd, great fool : there is no loss 
 In being small ; great bulks but swell with dross. 
 Man is Heav'n's masterpiece : if it appear 
 More great, the value's less ; if less more dear. 
 
 H 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM VII 
 
 Deuteronomy xxx. 19. 
 
 Ihave sethefore thee life and death, hiessing and cursing; 
 therefore choose lifef that thou and thy seed may live. 
 
 The world's a floor, whose swelling heaps retain 
 
 The mingled wages of the ploughman's toil : 
 The world's a heap, whose yet unwinnow'd grain 
 
 Is lodg'd with chafT and buried in her soil : 
 All things are mix'd, the useful with the vain ; 
 The good with bad, the noble with the vile : 
 
 The world's an ark, wherein things pure and 
 
 gross 
 Present their lossful gain, and gainful loss, 
 "Where ev'ry dram of gold contains a pound of dross. 
 
 This fumish'd ark presents the greedy view 
 
 With all that earth can give, or Heav'n can add ; 
 Here lasting joys, here pleasures hourly new, 
 And hourly fading, may be wish'd and had : 
 All points of honour, counterfeit and true. 
 
 Salute thy soul, and wealth both good and bad : 
 Here may'st thou open wide the two-leav'd door 
 Of all thy wishes, to receive that store, 
 Which, being emptied most, doth overflow the more. 
 
li O O 'K II 
 
 t::mblk1v^ 7 
 
 ILic nefsLma.Hic optiraa iervat . 
 
 y/us t.i/.r.v ^/ir llWxf . ft/tif T/ntt f/ir first sccttn 
 77i,it /tiit.vf A- /irxt 71 /ii'r/i rirrnii'/'f r////f//-fW . 
 
BOOK II. EiMBLEMS. 75 
 
 Come then, my soul, approach this royal burse,* 
 
 And see what wares our great exchange retains : 
 Come, come ; here's that shall make a firm divorce 
 Betwixt thy wants and thee, if want complains : 
 No need to sit in council with thy purse, 
 
 Here's nothing good shall cost more price than 
 pains : 
 But, O my soul, take heed ; if thou rely 
 Upon thy faithless optics, thou wilt buy 
 Too blind a bargain; know, fools only trade by 
 th' eye. 
 
 The worldly wisdom of the foolish man 
 Is like a sieve, that doth alone retain 
 The grosser substance of the worthless bran ; 
 
 But thou, my soul, let thy brave thoughts disdain 
 So coarse a purchase : O be thou a fan 
 
 To purge the chaff, and keep the winnow'd grain : 
 Make clean thy thoughts, and dress thy mix'd 
 
 desires : 
 Thou art Heav'n's tasker ; and thy God requires 
 The purest of thy floor, as well as of thy fires. 
 
 Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace, 
 
 And wisdom bless thy soul's unblemish'd ways ; 
 No matter, then, how short or long's the lease, 
 
 Whose date determines thy self-number'd days : 
 No need to care for wealth's or fame's increase, 
 Nor Mars's palm, nor high Apollo's bays. 
 Lord, if thy gracious bounty please to fill 
 The floor of my desires, and teach me skill 
 To dress and choose the corn, take those the chaff 
 that will. 
 
 * Burse, an exchange ; a place for the meeting of merchants, and 
 where shops are kept. 
 
76 EMBLEMS. BOOK II 
 
 S. August. Lib. i. de Doct. Chrisli. 
 
 Temporal things more ravish in the expectation than 
 m fruition : but things eternal more in the fruition 
 than expectation. 
 
 Ibidem, 
 
 The life of man is the middle between angels and 
 beasts : if man takes pleasure in carnal things, he is 
 compared to beasts ; but if he delights in spiritual 
 things, be is suited with angels. 
 
 Epig. 10. 
 
 Art thou a child ? Thou wilt not then be fed 
 But like a child, and with the children's bread; 
 But thou art fed with chaff or corn undrest : 
 My soul, thou savour'st too much of the beast. 
 
J::LrBL£:M 8 . 
 
 Jfivc aiiiuiaixt Puex-os CAiiibfJa; al illalilros . 
 
 7'/f,\- /,A,,x,x C/tti.Irr/, :__ Thnf //tr Mm, ctiicy.v : 
 yy.v //'/.{•/ A v/' /o f/f\iy/f.vr .17/// /<//(■ ///r-*- 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM VIII. 
 
 Philippians iii. 19, 20: 
 
 They mind earthly things, hut our conversation is in 
 heaven. 
 
 VENUS. DIVINE CUPID. 
 
 Ven. "What means this peevish brat ? Whish, lul- 
 laby ; 
 What ails my babe ? what ails may babe to cry ? 
 Will nothing still it ? Will it neither be 
 Pleas'd with the nurse's breast or mother's knee ? 
 What ails my bird ? What moves my froward boy 
 To make such whimp'ring faces ? Peace, my joy : 
 Will nothing do ? Come, come, this pettish brat. 
 Thus cry and brawl, and cannot tell for what ? 
 Come, buss and friends, my lamb ; wish lullaby ; 
 What ails my babe ? what ails my babe to cry ? 
 Peace, peace, my dear ; alas ! thy early years 
 Had never faults to merit half these tears ; 
 Come, smile upon me : let thy mother spy 
 Thy father's image in her baby's eye : 
 Husband these guiltless drops against the rage 
 Of harder fortunes, and the gripes of age ; 
 Thine eye's not ripe for tears : Whish, lullaby ; 
 What ails my babe, my sweet-fac'd babe, to cry ? 
 
78 EMBLEMS. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 Look, look, what's here! A dainty golden thing : 
 See how the dancing bells turn round and ring, 
 To please my bantling ? Here's a knack will breed 
 A hundred kisses : here's a knack indeed. 
 So, now my bird is white, and looks as fair 
 As Pelop's shoulder, or my milk-white pair : 
 Here's right ihe father's smile : when Mars beguil'd 
 Sick Venus of her heart, just thus he smil'd. 
 
 Divine Cupid. 
 
 "Well may they smile alike ; thy base-bred boy 
 And his base sire had both one cause — a toy : 
 How well their subjects and their smiles agree ! 
 Thy Cupid finds a toy, and Mars found thee : 
 False queen of beauty, queen of false delights. 
 Thy knee presents an emblem, that invites 
 Man to himself, whose self-transported heart 
 (O' erwhelm'd with native sorrows, and the smart 
 Of purchas'd griefs) lies whinning night and day. 
 Not knowing why, till heavy-heel'd Delay, 
 The dull-brow'd pander of Despair, lays by 
 His leaden buskins, and presents his eye 
 "With antic trifles, which the indulgent earth 
 Makes proper objects of man's childish mirth. 
 These be the coin that pass, the sweets that please; 
 There's nothing good, there's nothing great, but 
 
 these : 
 These be the pipes that base-born minds dance after, 
 And turn immod'rate tears to lavish laughter ; 
 "Whilst heav'nly raptures pass without regard ; 
 Their strings are harsh, and their high strains un- 
 heard : 
 The ploughman's whistle, or the trivial flute. 
 Find more respect than great Apollo's lute : 
 We' 11 look to Heav'n, and trust to higher joys ; 
 Let swine love husks, and children whine for toys. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 79 
 
 *S'. Beryl. 
 
 That is the true and chief joy, which is not con- 
 ceived from the creature, but received from the Crea- 
 tor, which (being once possessed thereof) none can 
 take from thee: whereto all pleasure, being compared, 
 is torment, all joy is grief, sweet things are bitter, all 
 glory is baseness, and all delectable things are 
 despicable. 
 
 Bern. 
 
 Joy, in a changeable subject, must necessarily 
 change as the subject changeth. 
 
 Epig. 8. 
 
 Peace, childish Cupid, peace : thy finger'd eye 
 But cries for what, in time, will make thee cry. 
 But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd ? 
 Well may'st thou cry, that art so poorly pleas'd 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM IX. 
 
 Isaiah x. 3. 
 
 What will ye do in the day of your visitation ? to ivhorrf, 
 will ye fiee for help? and where will ye leave your 
 glory ? 
 
 Is this that jolly god, whose cyprian bow 
 
 Has shot so many flaming darts, 
 And made so many wounded beauties go 
 Sadly perplex'd with whimp'ring hearts ? 
 Is this that sov'reign deity, that brings 
 The slavish world in awe, and stings 
 The blund'ring souls of swains, and stoops the hearts 
 of kings ? 
 
 What Circean charm, what Hecatean spite, 
 
 Has thus abus'd the god of love ? 
 Great Jove was vanquish'd by his greater might ; 
 (And who is stronger-arm'd than Jove ?) 
 Or has our lustful god perform'd a rape. 
 And (fearing Argus' eyes) would 'scape 
 The view of jealous Earth, in this prodigious shape 
 
 Where be those rosy cheeks, that lately scorn'd 
 
 The malice of injurious fates ? 
 Ah ! Where's that pearl portcullis,* that adorn'd 
 Those dainty two-leav'd ruby gates ? 
 
 Where be those killing eyes that so controll'd 
 The world, and locks that did infold 
 Like nots of flaming wire, like curls of burnish'd 
 gold? 
 
 * Portcullis (a term of fortification) ; i, e, a grate dropped 
 down, to stop a gateway. 
 
V,(|rilin'iiiiL cxlvoji'cl.co Diern . 
 
 Sr/i<i.vniv 7)//it //,t/.v'f/ tut/K rrrn'd iiiniy , 
 /.v/i///i f/ir /,/i/Af , (i/it/ (//•(/((/ (t c<//i//i// y)fii 
 
^ 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 81 
 
 No, no, 'twas neither Hecatean spite, 
 
 Nor charm below, nor power above ; 
 'Twas neither Circe's spell, nor Stygian sprite. 
 That thus transform'd our god of love ; 
 
 'Twas owl-ey'd Lust (more potent far than they), 
 Whose eyes and actions hate the day ; 
 Whom all the world observe, whom all the world 
 obey. 
 
 See how the latter trumpet's dreadful blast 
 
 Affrights stout Mars's trembling son ! 
 See how he startles ! how he stands aghast, 
 And scrambles from his melting throne ! 
 
 Hark, how the direful hand of vengeance tears 
 The swilt'ring clouds, whilst Heav'n appears 
 A circle fill'd with flame, and centred with his fears ! 
 
 This is that day, whose oft report hath worn 
 
 Neglected tongues of prophets bare ; 
 The faithless subject of the worldling's scorn. 
 The sum of men and angels' pray'r : 
 
 This, this the day, whose all-discerning light 
 Ransacks the secret dens of night. 
 And severs good from bad; true joys from false 
 delight. 
 
 ^o' 
 
 You grov'ling wordlings, you whose wisdom trades 
 
 Where Light ne'er shot his golden ray. 
 That hide your actions in Cim.merian shades. 
 How will your eyes endure this day ? 
 
 Hills will be deaf, and mountains will not hear ; 
 There be no caves, no corners there. 
 To shade your souls from fire, to shield your hearts 
 from fear. 
 
82 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 Hugo. 
 
 O the extreme loathsomeness of fleshy lust, which 
 not only effeminates the mind, but ernervates the 
 body ; which not only distaineth the soul, but dis- 
 guiseth the person! It is ushered with fury and 
 wantonness; it is accompanied with filthiness and 
 uncleanness; and it is followed with grief and re- 
 pentance. 
 
 Epigm 9. 
 
 "What, sweet-fac'd Cupid, has thy bastard treasure. 
 Thy boasted honours, and thy bold-fac'd pleasure, 
 Perplex'd thee now ? I told thee, long ago. 
 To what they'd bring thee, fool — to wit, 'o tune. 
 
Tnrmt : JiicUxe eXl 
 
 Ca/i Wct/ii'/ii/ f/tift t/i ////'.(■ /ii/r Cr/' /< fiTt/i<I / 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM X. 
 
 Nahum ii. 10. 
 
 She is empty, and void, and waste. 
 
 She's empty: hark! she sounds: there's nothing 
 there 
 
 But noise to fill thy year ; 
 Thy vain inquiry can at length but find 
 
 A blast of murm'ring wind : 
 It is a cask, that seems as full as fair, 
 
 But merely tunn'd with air ; 
 Fond youth, go build thy hopes on better grounds : 
 
 The soul that vainly founds 
 Her J03-S upon this world, but feeds on empty sounds. 
 
 She's empty : hark ! she sounds : there's nothing 
 in't ; 
 
 The spark-engend'ring flint 
 Shall sooner melt, and hardest raunce* shall, first, 
 
 Dissolve and quench thy thirst, 
 Ere this false world shall still thy stormy breast 
 
 With smooth-fac'd calms of rest. 
 Thou may'st as well expect meridian light 
 
 From shades of black-mouth'd night. 
 As in this empty world to find a full delight. 
 
 * Raunce, dry mouldy crust of bread. 
 
84 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 She's empty: hark ! she sounds : 'tis void and vast; 
 
 What is some flatter'ing blast 
 Of flatuous honour should perchance be there, 
 
 And whisper in thine ear ? 
 It is but wind, and blows but where it list, 
 
 And vanishes like mist. 
 Poor honour earth can give ! what gen'rous mind 
 
 Would be so base to bind 
 Her heav n-bred soul a slave, to serve a blast of wind ? 
 
 She's empty : hark ! she sounds : 'tis but a ball 
 
 For fools to play withal : 
 The painted film but of a stronger bubble, 
 
 That's lin'd with silken trouble : 
 It is a world, whose work and recreation 
 
 Is vanity, and vexation ; 
 A hag, repair'd with vice-complexion, paint : 
 
 A quest-house of complaint : 
 It is a saint, a fiend ; worse fiend when most a saint 
 
 She's empty : hark ! she sounds : 'tis vain and void; 
 
 What's here to be enjoy 'd 
 But grief and and sickness, and large bills of sorrow, 
 
 Drawn now, and cross'd to-morrow 1 
 Or what are men but puffs of dying breath, 
 
 Reviv'd with living death ? 
 Fond lad, O build thy hopes on surer grounds 
 
 Than what dull flesh propounds ; 
 Trust not this hollow world ; she's empty : hark ! she 
 sounds. 
 
BOOK ir. EMBLEMS. 85 
 
 S. Chrys* in Ep. ad Heb. 
 
 Contemn riches, and thou shalt be rich ; contemn 
 glory, and thou shalt be glorious ; contemn injuries, 
 and thou shalt be a conqueror; contemn rest, and 
 thou shalt gain rest ; contemn earth, and thou shalt 
 find Heaven. 
 
 Hugo Lib. de Vanit. Mundi* 
 
 The world is vanity which affordeth neither beauty 
 to the amorous, nor reward to the laborious, nor en- 
 couragement to the industrious. 
 
 Epig. 10. 
 
 This house is to be let for life or years ; 
 
 Her rent is sorrow, and her income tears : 
 
 Cupid, 't has long stood void; her bills make known, 
 
 She must be dearly let, or let alone. 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM XI. 
 
 Matt. vii. 14. 
 
 Narrow is the way that teadeth unto life, and few there 
 be that Jind it* 
 
 Prepost'rous fool, thou troul'st* amiss : 
 Thou err'st; that 's not the way, 'tis this : 
 Thy hopes, instructed by thine eye. 
 Make thee appear more near than I ; 
 My floor is not so flat, so fine. 
 And has more obvious rubs than thine ; 
 'Tis true, my way is hard and strait. 
 And leads me through a thorny gate, 
 Whose rankling pricks are sharp and fell ; 
 The common way to Heaven's by hell. 
 'Tis true, thy path is short and fair, 
 And free of rubs : Ah ! fool, beware. 
 The safest road's not always ev'n ; 
 The way to hell 's a seeming Heav'n : 
 Think'st thou the crown of glory's had 
 With idle ease, fond Cyprian lad ? 
 Think'st thou that mirth, and vain delights. 
 High feed, and shadow- short'ning nights, 
 
 * TruVst, i. e. roll a ball. 
 
Eiias : ]iac itiir atl illaiu . 
 !//(/(// t/i hfiu- , ////(/ /ff/r/f ///:■ fr/frr f/'tii . 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 87 
 
 Soft knees, full bags, and beds of down, 
 
 Are proper prologues to a crown ? 
 
 Or canst thou hope to come, and view, 
 
 Like prosp'rous Csesar, and subdue ? 
 
 The bond-slave usurer will trudge. 
 
 In spite of gouts, will turn a drudge, 
 
 And serve his soul-condemning purse, 
 
 T increase it with the widow's curse : 
 
 And shall the crown of glory stand 
 
 Not worth the waving of a hand ? 
 
 The fleshly wanton, to obtain 
 
 His minute-lust, will count it gain 
 
 To lose his freedom, his estate, 
 
 Upon so dear, so sweet a rate. 
 
 Shall pleasures thus be priz'd, and must 
 
 Heav'n's palm be cheaper than a lust ? 
 
 The true-bred spark, to hoise"^ his name 
 
 Upon the waxen wings of Fame, 
 
 Will fight undaunted in a flood 
 
 That 's rais'd with brackish drops and blood. 
 
 And shall the promis'd crown of life 
 
 Be thought a toy, not worth a strife ? 
 
 An easy good brings easy gains ; 
 
 But things of price are bought with pains. 
 
 The pleasing way is not the right : 
 
 He that would conquer Heav'n must fight. 
 
 • Hoise, to hoist, or raise up. 
 
88 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 S. Hieron in Ep. 
 
 No labour is hard, no time is long, wherein the glory 
 of eternity is the mark we level at. 
 
 St. Greg, Lib. viii. Mor. 
 
 The valour of a just man is, to conquer the flesh, 
 to contradict his own will, to quench the delights 
 of this present life, to endure and love the miseries 
 of this world for the reward of a better, to contemn 
 the flatteries of prosperity, and inwardly to overcome 
 the fears of adversity. 
 
 Epig. 11. 
 
 Cupid, if thy smoother way v/ere right, 
 
 1 should mistrust this crown were counterfeit 
 The way 's not easy where the prize is great 
 I hope no virtues, where I smell no sweat. 
 

 I 
 
 #- 
 
B O O K T. 
 
 A^^K 
 
 Tn Cruce It at tecurus Amor. 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM XII 
 
 Galat. vi. 14. 
 God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross. 
 
 Can nothing settle my uncertain breast, 
 
 And fix my rambling love ? 
 Can my affections find out nothing best. 
 
 But still and still remove ? 
 Has earth no mercy ? Will no ark of rest 
 
 Receive my restless dove ? 
 Is there no good, than which there 's nothing higher, 
 
 To bless my full desire 
 With joys that never change ; with joys that ne'er 
 expire ? 
 
 I wanted wealth ; and, at my dear request. 
 
 Earth lent a quick supply : 
 I wanted mirth, to charm my sullen breast ; 
 
 And who more brisk than I ? 
 I wanted fame, to glorify the rest ; 
 
 My fame flew eagle-high : 
 My joy not fully ripe, but all decay'd. 
 
 Wealth vanish'd like a shade ; 
 My mirth began to flag, my fame began to fade. 
 
90 
 
 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 The world 's a ocean, hurried to and fro 
 
 With ev'ry blast of passion : 
 Her lustful streams, when either ebb or flow, 
 
 Are tides of man's vexation : 
 They alter daily, and they daily grow 
 
 The worse by alteration : 
 The earth's a cask full tunn'd, yet wanting measure ; 
 
 Her precious wine is pleasure ; 
 Her yest* is honour's puff; her leesf are worldly 
 treasure. 
 
 My trust is in the cross ; let beauty flag 
 
 Her loose, her wanton sail ; 
 Let count'nance-gilding Honour cease to brag 
 
 In courtly terms, and vail ; 
 Let ditch-bred Wealth henceforth forget to wag 
 
 Her base, though golden, tail ; 
 False beauty's conquest is but real loss. 
 
 And wealth but golden dross ; 
 Best honour's but a blast : my trust is in the cross. 
 
 My trust is in the cross ; there lies my rest ; 
 
 My fast, my sole delight : 
 Let cold-mouth'd Boreas, or the hot-mouth'd East, 
 
 Blow till they burst with spite ; 
 Let earth and hell conspire their worst, their best. 
 
 And join their twisted might ; 
 Let show'rs of thunderbolts dart down and wound me, 
 
 And troops of fiends surround me, 
 All this may well confront, all this shall ne'er con- 
 found me. 
 
 Yest or yeast, barm used for the fermentation of Liquors. 
 
 [• Lees, the settlement, or dregs, at bottom. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 91 
 
 S, August. 
 
 Christ's cross is the Chriscross* of all our hap- 
 piness ; it delivers us from all blindness of error, and 
 enriches our darkness with light; it restoreth the 
 troubled soul to rest ; it bringeth strangers to God's 
 acquaintance ; it maketh remote foreigners near neigh- 
 bours ; it cutteth off discord ; concludeth a league of 
 everlasting peace ; and is the bounteous author of all 
 good. 
 
 S. Bern, in Sei\ de Resui\ 
 
 We find glory in the cross ; to us that are saved 
 it is the power of God, and the fulness of all virtues. 
 
 Epig, 12. 
 
 I follow'd Rest ; Rest fled, and soon forsook me 
 Iran from Grief; Grief ran, and overtook me. 
 What shall I do 1 Lest I be too much tost 
 On worldly crosses, Lord, let me be crost. 
 
 * Chriscross, a small cross prefixed to the Alphabet in Catholic 
 spelling-books, the children of which religion generally call the 
 Alphabet the Chriscross ; and in that sense the word is evidently 
 used here. 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM XIIL 
 
 Prov. xxvi. 11. 
 
 As a dog returneth to his vomit, so a fool veturneth 
 to his folly, 
 
 O, I am wounded ! and my wounds do smart 
 Beyond my patience or great Chiron's art : 
 I yield, I yield ; the day, the palm, is thine ; 
 Thy bow 's more true, thy shaft 's more fierce, than 
 
 mine. 
 Hold, hold, O hold thy conqu'ring hand ! What need 
 To send more darts ? the first has done the deed. 
 Oft have we struggled, when our equal arms 
 Shot equal shafts, inflicted equal harms ; 
 But this exceeds, and with her flaming head, 
 Twi-fork'd with death, has struck my conscience dead. 
 But must I die ? Ah me ! if that were all. 
 Then, then I'd stroke my bleeding wounds, and call 
 This dart a cordial, and with joy endure 
 These harsh ingredients, where my griefs my cure. 
 But something whispers in my dying ear, 
 There is an after-day ; which day I fear. 
 The slender debt to nature 's quickly paid, 
 Discharg'd, perchance, with greater ease than made ; 
 
Poft VxQucra Dcemoii. 
 
 St> when the. fatal Wound /ta^' /itrrct/ t/ir Jfrart , 
 Th 'ms'ulhnq /''tWi</ ifr// ut/t/raratr f/tc , S'/tiart . 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 92 
 
 But if that pale-fac'd sergeant make arrest, 
 
 Ten thousand actions would (whereof the least 
 
 Is more than all this lower world can bail) 
 
 Be enter'd and condemn me to the jail 
 
 Of Stygian darkness, bound in red-hot chains, 
 
 And grip'd with tortures worse than Tityan pains. 
 
 Farewell, my vain, farewell, my loose delights ; 
 
 Farewell, my rambling days, my rev'ling nights : 
 
 'Twas you betray'd me first, and, when ye found 
 
 My soul at 'vantage, gave my soul the wound : 
 
 Farewell, my bullion* gods, whose sov'reign looks 
 
 So often catch'd me with their golden hooks : 
 
 Go, seek another slave; ye must all go ; 
 
 I cannot serve my God and bullion too. 
 
 Farewell, false Honour; you whose airy wings 
 
 Did mount my soul above the thrones of kings ; 
 
 Then flatter'd me, took pet, and, in disdain, 
 
 Nipp'd my green buds : then kick'd me down again : 
 
 Farewell, my bow ; farewell, my Cyprian quiver ; 
 
 Farewell, dear world ; farewell, dear world, for ever. 
 
 O, but this most delicious world, how sweet 
 
 Her pleasures relish ! ah I how jumpf they meet 
 
 The grasping soul, and with their sprightly fire 
 
 Revive and raise, and rouse the rapt desire ! 
 
 For ever ? O, to part so long! what, never 
 
 Meet more 1 Another year, and then for ever : 
 
 Too quick resolves do resolution wrong ; 
 
 What part so soon, to be divorc'd so long ? 
 
 Things to be done are long to be debated ; 
 
 HeavVs not decay'd. Repentance is not dated. 
 
 * Bullion, gold or silver in the mass ; put for riehes. 
 t Jump, fit or tally with. 
 
94 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 S. August, lib. de Util. agen, Pcen, 
 
 Go up, my soul, into the tribunal of thy conscience: 
 there set thy guilty self before thyself: hide not thy- 
 self behind thyself, lest God bring thee forth before 
 thyself. 
 
 >S'. August, in Soliloq. 
 
 In vain is that washing, where the next sin defileth : 
 he hath ill repented whose sins are repeated: that 
 stomach is the worse for vomiting, that licketh up his 
 vomit. 
 
 Anselm, 
 
 God hath promised pardon to him that repenteth, 
 but he hath not promised repentance to him that 
 sinneth. 
 
 Epig, 13. 
 
 Brain-wounded Cupid, had this hasty dart, 
 As it hath prick'd thy fancy, pierc'd thy heart, 
 'T had been thy friend : O how hath it deceiv'd thee ! 
 For had this dart but kill'd, this dart has sav'd thee. 
 
BO OK IL. 
 
 E3\.IBLE:t.r T4 
 
 I'oit lapiutn. ioxtms a£to. 
 
 7'J^'k li'hih- J/ail ,In\se n(yMn . fp /irovr 
 
 T firmer Kvtand n^en rats 'J fj^ fir mm [v J^ri'e . 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM XIV. 
 
 Peov. xxiv. 16. 
 
 A just man falleth seven times, and riseth up again ; 
 hut the wicked shall fall into mischief. 
 
 'Tis but a foil at best, and that *s the most 
 
 Your skill can boast : 
 My slipp'ry footing fail'd me ; and you tript. 
 
 Just as I slipt : 
 My wanton weakness did herself betray 
 
 With too much play : 
 I was to bold ; he never yet stood sure, 
 
 That stands secure : 
 Who ever trusted to his native strength. 
 
 But fell at length ? 
 The title's craz'd,* the tenure is not good, 
 That claims by th* evidence of flesh and blood. 
 
 Boast not thy skill ; the righteous man falls oft. 
 
 Yet falls but soft : 
 There may be dirt to mire him, but no stones 
 
 To crush his bones : 
 What if he staggers ? nay, put case he be 
 
 Foil'd on his knee ; 
 That very knee will bend to Heav'n and woo 
 
 For mercy too. 
 The true-bred gamester ups afresh, and then 
 
 Falls to 't again ; 
 Whereas the leaden-hearted coward lies. 
 And yields his conquer'd life, or craven'df dies. 
 
 * Crazed, weak, 
 t Crav&iCd, disheartened, made to knock under. 
 
96 EMBLEMS. BOOK 11. 
 
 Boast not thy conquest, thou that ev'ry hour 
 
 Fall'st ten times low'r ; 
 Nay, hast not pow'r to rise, if not, in case, 
 
 To fall more base : 
 Thou wallow'st where I slip ; and thou dost tumble 
 
 Where I but stumble : 
 Thou glory 'st in thy slav'ries' dirty badges. 
 
 And fall'st for wages : 
 Sour grief and sad repentance scours and clears 
 
 My stains with tears : 
 Thy falling keeps thy falling still in ure ;* 
 But when I slip, I stand the more secure 
 
 Lord, what a nothing is this little span 
 
 We call a Man ! 
 What fenny trash maintains the smoth'ring fires 
 
 Of his desires ! 
 How slight and short are his resolves at longest! 
 
 How weak at strongest ! 
 Oh, if a sinner, held by thy fast hand, 
 
 Can hardly stand. 
 Good God ! in what a desp'rate case are they 
 
 That have no stay ! 
 Man's state implies a necessary curse : 
 When not himself, he 's mad ; when most himself, 
 he 's worse. 
 
 * Urc, use. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 97 
 
 S. Amhros. in Serm. ad Vincula. 
 
 Peter stood more firmly after he had lamented 
 his fall than before he fell ; insomuch that he found 
 more grace than he lost grace. 
 
 S. Chrys* in Ep. ad Heliod. Monach. 
 
 It is no such heinous matter to fall afflicted, as, 
 being down, to lie dejected. It is no danger for a 
 soldier to receive a wound in battle ; but, after the 
 wound received, through despair of recovery, to 
 refuse a remedy : for we often see wounded champions 
 wear the palm at last; and, after flight, crowned 
 with victory. 
 
 JSpig. 14. 
 
 Triumph not, Cupid, his mischance doth show 
 Thy trade; doth once; what thou dost always do : 
 Brag not too soon; has thy prevailing hand 
 Foil'd him ? Ah fool, thou'st taught him how to 
 stand. 
 
BOOK II.— EMBLEM XV. 
 
 Jer. xxxii. 40. 
 
 / will put my fear in their hearts, that they shall not 
 depart from me. 
 
 So, now the soul' s sublim'd ; her sour desires 
 Are recalcin'd* in heav'n's well-temper'd fires : 
 The heart, restor'd and purg'd from drossy nature. 
 Now finds the freedom of a new-born creature : 
 It lives another life, it breathes new breath ; 
 It neither feels nor fears the sting of death : 
 Like as the idle vagrant (having none), 
 That boldly 'doptst each house he views his own ; 
 Makes ev'ry purse his chequer ; J and, at pleasure, 
 Walks forth, and taxes all the world like Caesar ; 
 At length, by virtue of a just command. 
 His sides are lent to a severer hand ; 
 Whereon his pass, not fully understood. 
 Is texted in a manuscript of blood ; 
 Thus pass'd from town to town, until he come 
 A sore repentant to his native home : 
 E'en so the rambling heart, that idly roves 
 From crime to sin, and, uncontroll'd, removes 
 From lust to lust, when wanton flesh invites 
 From old- worn pleasures to new choice delights; 
 
 * Recalcin'd: to caucile is, with chymists, to burn to a cinder, 
 f ' Dopts, adopts, or makes his own. ^ 
 X Chequer^ exchequer, or treasury. 
 
^^b i^K::>.. 
 
 Patet .Edieri ; claadihir Orbi. 
 
 f'/n // /r- ITrnrh , f/tc Bt'iwt^ .vecrfuv /i^nr//,h /Wt/r . 
 f'/tf-n fr' ffrai/t , //j- ,i/tiU fn tt// /•»;*'/,//' . 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 
 
 At length corrected by the filial rod 
 
 Of his offended, but his gracious God, 
 
 And lash'd from sins to sighs ; and, by degrees. 
 
 From sighs to vows, from vows to bended knees ; 
 
 From bended knees to a true pensive breast ; 
 
 From thence to torments, not by tongues exprest, 
 
 Returns; and (from his sinful self exil'd) 
 
 Finds a glad Father, He a welcome, child : 
 
 O then it lives ; O then it lives involved 
 
 In secret raptures ; pants to be dissolv'd : 
 
 The royal offspring of a second birth 
 
 Sets ope' to Heav'n, and shuts the door to earth : 
 
 If love-sick Jove commanded clouds should hap 
 
 To rain such show'rs as quicken'd Danae's lap ; 
 
 Or dogs, (far kinder than their purple master) 
 
 Should lick his sores ; he laughs nor weeps the faster. 
 
 If Earth (Heav'n's rival) dart her idle ray ; 
 
 To Heav'n 'tis wax, and to the world 'tis clay : 
 
 If Earth present delights, it scorns to draw, 
 
 But, like the jet* unrubb'd disdains that straw : 
 
 No hope deceives it, and no doubt divides it ; 
 
 No grief disturbs it, and no error guides it ; 
 
 No fear distracts it, and no rage inflames it ; 
 
 No guilt condemns it, and no folly shames it ; 
 
 No sloth besots it, and no lust inthrals it ; 
 
 No scorn afflicts it, and no passion galls it : 
 
 * Jet\ black amber, which, rubbed, has an attractive quality. 
 
100 EMBLEMS. BOOK II. 
 
 It is a carknetf of immortal life ; 
 
 An ark of peace ; the lists J of sacred strife ; 
 
 A purer piece of endless transitory ; 
 
 A shrine of grace ; a little throne of glory ; 
 
 A heav'n-born offspring of a new-born birth ; 
 
 An earthly heav'n ; an ounce of heav'nly earth. 
 
 t Carknet, a necklace. 
 
 X Lists, a place enclosed for tournaments, races, wrestlings, and 
 other exercises. 
 
BOOK II. EMBLEMS. 101 
 
 -S'. August de Spir. et Anima. 
 
 O happy heart, where piety affecteth, where humi- 
 lity subjecteth, where repentance correcteth, where 
 obedience directeth, where preseverance perfecteth, 
 where power protecteth, v/here devotion projecteth, 
 where charity connecteth. 
 
 S. Greg, 
 
 Which way soever the heart turneth itself (if care- 
 fully), it shall commonly observe, that in those very 
 things we lose God, in those very things we shall 
 find God : it shall find the heat of his power in con- 
 sideration of those things, in the love of which things 
 he was most cold ; and by what things it feel pervert- 
 ed, by those things it is raised converted. 
 
 Epig. 15. 
 
 My heart ! but wherefore do I call thee so ? 
 I have renounc'd my int'rest long ago : 
 "When thou wert false and fleshly, I was thine 
 Mine wert thou never till thou wert not mine. 
 
BOOK THE THIRD. 
 
 THE ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 All you whose better thoughts are newly born, 
 
 And (rebaptiz'd with holy fire) can scorn 
 
 The world's base trash, whose necks disdain to bear 
 
 Th' imperious yoke of Satan ; whose chaste ear 
 
 No wanton songs of Sirens can surprise 
 
 With false delight ; whose more than eagle-eyes 
 
 Can view the glorious flames of gold, and gaze 
 
 On glitt'ring beams of honour, and not daze ;* 
 
 Whose souls can spurn at pleasure, and deny 
 
 The loose suggestions of the flesh ; draw nigh : 
 
 And you, whose am'rous, whose select desires 
 
 Would feel the warmth of those transcendent fires, 
 
 Which (like the rising sun) put out the light 
 
 Of Venus' star, and turn her day to night ; 
 
 You that would love, and have your passions crown'd 
 
 With greater happiness than can be found 
 
 In your own wishes ; you, that would affect 
 
 Where neither scorn, nor guile, nor disrespect 
 
 Shall wound your tortur'd souls, that would enjoy, 
 
 Where neither want can pinch, nor fulness cloy ; 
 
 Nor double doubt afflicts, nor baser fear 
 
 Unflames your courage in pursuit; draw near: 
 
 * Daze; i. c. be dazzled. 
 
B o o II nr 
 
 E N'T E PvT AIIT ME ^^ T S . 
 
 (^n Thee, (^ lord , /W /i.rJ /nv ii/x/t' Dr.vt'r, 
 Vc Tnee //n (/rrti/KV a^-cr/u^ . niv Pntvrx ,i.\'/iii\ 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 103 
 
 Shake hands with* Earth, and let your soul respect 
 Her joys no further than her joys reflect * 
 Upon her Maker's glory : if thou swim 
 In wealth, see Him in all ; see all in Him : 
 Sink'st thou in want, and is thy small cruise spent ? 
 See Him in want ; enjoy Him in content : 
 Conceiv'st Him lodg'd in cross, or lost in pain ? 
 In prayer and patience find Him out again : 
 Make Heav'n thy mistress, let no change remove 
 Thy loyal heart; be fond, be sick of Love. 
 What if he stop his ear, or knit his brow ? 
 At length he '11 be as fond, as sick, as thou : 
 Dart up thy soul in groans; thy secret groan 
 Shall pierce his ear, shall pierce his ear alone : 
 Dart up thy soul in vows ; thy sacred vow 
 Shall find him out, where Heav'n alone shall know : 
 Dart up thy soul in sighs ; thy whisp'ring sigh 
 Shall rouse his ears, and fear no list'ner nigh : 
 Send up thy groans, thy sighs, thy closet- vow; 
 There's none, there's none shall know but Heav'n and 
 
 thou. 
 Groans fresh'd with vows, and vows made salt with 
 
 tears, 
 Unscale his eyes, and scale his conquer'd ears : 
 Shoot up the bosom shafts of thy desire, 
 Feather'd with faith, and double-fork'd with fire, 
 And they will hit : fear not, where Heav'n bids Come; 
 Heav'n's never deaf but when man's heart is dumb. 
 
 * Shake hands with : i. e. take leave of. 
 
BOOK III.—EMBLEM I . 
 
 Isaiah xxvi. 9. 
 My soul hath desired thee in the night. 
 
 Good God ! what horrid darkness doth surround 
 
 My groping soul ? how are my senses bound 
 
 In utter shades, and, muffled from the light, 
 
 Lurk in the bosom of eternal night ! 
 
 The bold-fac'd lamp of Heav'n can set and rise, 
 
 And with his morning glory fill the eyes 
 
 Of gazing mortals ; his victorious ray 
 
 Can chase the shadows, and restore the day : 
 
 Night's bashfuU empress, though she often wane. 
 
 As oft repents her darkness ; primes again ; 
 
 And with her circling horns doth re-embrace 
 
 Her brother's wealth, and orbs her silver face. 
 
 But ah ! my sun, deep swallow'd in his fall. 
 
 Is set, and cannot shine, not rise at all : 
 
 My bankrupt wane can beg nor borrow light ; 
 
 Alas ! my darkness is perpetual night. 
 
 Falls have their risings, wanings have their primes, 
 
 And desp'rate sorrows wait their better times : 
 
 Ebbs have their floods, and autumns have their 
 
 springs : 
 All states have changes hurried with the swings 
 Of chance and time, still tiding to and fro : 
 Terrestrial bodies, and celestial too. 
 How often have I vainly grop'd about, 
 With lengthen'd arms, to find a passage out. 
 That I might catch those beams mine eye desires. 
 And bathe my soul in those celestial fires ! 
 
B O OK m. 
 
 E:M:BLEivr i 
 
 Hninli.2().i) . 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 105 
 
 Like as the hagard,* cloister'd in her mew,f 
 
 To scour her downy robes, and to renew 
 
 Her broken flags, J preparing t' overlook 
 
 The tim'rous mallard § at the sliding brook, 
 
 Jetsll oft from perch to perch ; from stocky to ground; 
 
 From ground to window ; thus surveying round 
 
 Her dove-befeather'd prison, till, at length, 
 
 (Calling her noble birth to mind, and strength 
 
 Whereto her wing was horn,) her ragged beak 
 
 Nips off her dangling jesses,** strives to break 
 
 Her jingling fetters, and begins to bateff 
 
 At ev'ry glimpse, and darts at ev'ry grate iJI 
 
 E'en so my weary soul, that long has been 
 
 An inmate in this tenement of sin, 
 
 Lock'd up by cloud-brow'd error, which invites 
 
 My cloister'd thoughts to feed on black delights. 
 
 Now scorns her shadows, and begins to dart 
 
 Her wing'd desires at Thee, that only art 
 
 The sun she seeks, whose rising beams can fright 
 
 These dusky clouds that make so dark a night : 
 
 Shine forth, great Glory, shine ; that I may see 
 
 Both how to loath myself and honour thee : 
 
 But, if my weakness force thee to deny 
 
 Thy flames, yet lend the twilight of thine eye : 
 
 If I must want those beams I wish, yet grant 
 
 That I, at least, may wish those beams I want. 
 
 * Hagard, a wild hawk. 
 
 t Mew, a coop or cage. 
 
 X Flags, wing-feathers. 
 
 § Mallard, a drake (water-fowl). 
 
 11 Jets, hops, 
 
 ^ Stock, perch ; that on which a bird rests. 
 
 ** Jesses, leather thongs that tied on the bells. 
 
 ft Bate, flutter her wings. 
 
106 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 S. August. Soliloqu. Cap. xxxiii. 
 
 There was a great and dark cloud of vanity before 
 mine eyes, so that I could not see the sun of justice 
 and the light of truth. I, being the son of darkness, 
 was involved in darkness : I loved my darkness, be- 
 cause I knew not thy light : I was blind, and loved 
 my blindness, and did walk from darkness to darkness : 
 but, Lord, thou art my God, who hast led me from 
 darkness and the shadow of death ; hast called me 
 into his glorious light, and, behold, I see, 
 
 Epig. 1. 
 
 My soul, cheer up ; what if the night be long ? 
 Heav'n finds an ear when sinners find a tongue. 
 Thy tears are morning show'rs ; Heav'n bids me say, 
 When Peter's cock begins to crow, 'tis day. 
 
Pralin_.6t) . ^ . 
 Tc r/iee, (^Zf'/v/ , tu'c all <rnrjFi^l/'e^v hieiiTi , 
 llrrf^ t/}('f/ crfrr/tK- Ic nurrA- t/u/n frrni f/ty T/frorn 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM 11; 
 
 Psalm Ixix. 6. 
 
 O Lord, thou knowest my foolishness, and my sins are 
 not hid from thee. 
 
 See'st thou this fulsome idiot ? In what measure 
 
 He seems transported with the antic pleasure 
 
 Of childish baubles ? Canst thou but admire 
 
 The empty fulness of his vain desire ? 
 
 Canst thou conceive such poor delights as these 
 
 Can fill th' insatiate soul of man, or please 
 
 The fond aspect of his deluded eye ? 
 
 Reader, such very fools art thou and I : 
 
 False puffs of honour; the deceitful streams 
 
 Of wealth ; the idle, vain, and empty dreams 
 
 Of pleasure, are our traffic, and ensnare 
 
 Our souls, the threefold subject of our care : 
 
 We toil for trash, we barter solid joys 
 
 For airy trifles, sell our Heav'n for toys : 
 
 We snatch at barley-grains, whilst pearls stand by 
 
 Despis'd ; such very fools art thou and I. 
 
 Aim'st thou at honour ? does not th' idiot shake it 
 
 In his left hand ? Fond man, step forth and take it : 
 
 Or would'st thou wealth ? See how the fool presents 
 
 thee 
 With a full basket, if such wealth contents thee : 
 
108 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Would'st thou take pleasure ? If the fool unstride 
 
 His prancing stallion, thou may'st up, and ride : 
 
 Fond man, such is the pleasure, wealth and honour, 
 
 That earth affords such fools as doat upon her ; 
 
 Such is the game whereat earth's idiots fly ; 
 
 Such idiots, ah ! such fools, art thou and I : 
 
 Had rebel man's fool-hardiness extended 
 
 No further than himself, and there had ended, 
 
 It had been just; but, thus, enrag'd to fly 
 
 Upon th' eternal eyes of Majesty, 
 
 And drag the Son of Glory from the breast 
 
 Of his indulgent Father; to arrest 
 
 His great and sacred person ; in disgrace 
 
 To spit and spawl upon his sun-bright face ; 
 
 To taunt him with base terms, and, being bound, 
 
 To scourge his soft, his trembling sides ; to wound 
 
 His head with thorns ; his heart with human fears ; 
 
 His hands with nails, and his pale flank with spears ; 
 
 And then to paddle in the purer stream 
 
 Of his spilt blood, is more than most extreme : 
 
 Great builder of mankind, canst thou propound 
 
 All this to thy bright eyes, and not confound 
 
 Thy handy-work ? O ! canst thou choose but see. 
 
 That mad'st the eye ? can ought be hid from thee ? 
 
 Thou seest not what thou may'st. but what thou wilt 
 
 Thou seet our persons. Lord, and not our guilt ; 
 
 The hand that form'd us is enforc'd to be 
 
 A screen set up betwixt thy work and thee : 
 
 Look, look upon that hand, and thou shalt spy 
 
 An open wound, a thoroughfare for thine eye ; 
 
 Or if that wound be clos'd, that passage be 
 
 Deny'd between thy gracious eyes and me. 
 
 Yet view the scar ; that scar will countermand 
 
 Thy wrath : O read my fortune in thy hand. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 109 
 
 S. Chrys. Horn. iv. Joan. 
 
 Fools seem to abound in wealth, when they want 
 all things; they* seem to enjoy happiness, when in- 
 deed they are only most miserable ; neither do they 
 understand that they are deluded by their fancy, till 
 they be delivered from their folly. 
 
 S. Greg, in Mo. 
 
 By so much the more are we inwardly foolish, by 
 how much we strive to seem outwardly wise. 
 
 Epig. 2. 
 
 Rebellious fool, what has thy folly done ? 
 ControU'd thy God, and crucify'd his Son. 
 How sweetly has the Lord of life deceiv'd thee ! 
 Thou shedd'st his blood, and that shed blood has 
 sav'd thee. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM III 
 
 Psalm vi. 2. 
 
 Have mercy. Lord, upon me, for I am weak ; O 
 Lord, heal met for my hones are vexed, 
 
 SOUL. JESUS. 
 
 SouL Ah ! Son of David, help. 
 
 Jes. What sinful cry 
 
 Implores the Son of David ? 
 
 SouL It is I. 
 
 Jes. Who art thou \ 
 
 Soul. Oh ! a deeply wounded breast 
 
 That's heavy laden, and would fain have rest. 
 
 Jes. I have no scraps, and dogs must not be fed, 
 Like household children, with the children's bread. 
 
 Soul. True, Lord ; yet tolerate hungry whelp 
 To lick their crumbs : O, Son of David, help. 
 
 Jes. Poor soul, what ail'st thou ? 
 
 Soul. O I burn, I fry ; 
 
 I cannot rest ; I know not where to fly, 
 To find some ease ; I turn my blubber'd face 
 From man to man ; 1 roll from place to place ; 
 T'avoid my tortures, to obtain relief. 
 But still am dogg'd and haunted with my grief : 
 My midnight torments call the sluggish light, 
 And, when the morning's come, they woo the night. 
 
r^* 
 
 t Z.E. 
 
 //i'df /lir (^Lrj-i/. (t/t(^qfvr niv Tcr'f/ie/tf.v caji-r ; 
 IfvJi'f //ix ,/rr 1 4:i'f/ ,■ fr.\.//7-f niv 77i tiMt K- Prttt;- . 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. Ill 
 
 Jes. Surcease thy tears, and speak thy free desires. 
 
 Soul. Quench, quench my flames, and 'suage these 
 scorching fires. 
 
 Jes. Canst thou believe my hand can cure thy 
 grief ? 
 
 Soul. Lord, I believe ; Lord ; help my unbelief. 
 
 Jes. Hold forth thine arm, and let my fingers try 
 Thy pulse : where, chiefly, doth thy torment lie ? 
 
 Soul. From head to foot ; it reigns in ev'ry part. 
 But plays the self-law'd tyrant in my heart. 
 
 Jes. Canst thou digest? canst relish wholesome 
 food ? 
 How stands thy taste ? 
 
 Soul. To nothing that is good : 
 
 All sinful trash, and earth's unsav'ry stuff, 
 I can digest, and relish well enough. 
 
 Jes. Is not thy blood as cold as hot, by turns ? 
 
 Soul. Cold to what's good; to what is bad it 
 burns. 
 
 Jes. How old 's thy grief? 
 
 Soul. I took it at the Fall 
 
 With eating fruit. 
 
 Jes, 'Tis epidemical : 
 
 Thy blood's infected, and the infection sprung 
 From a bad liver ; 'tis a fever strong, 
 And full of death, unless with present speed 
 A vein be open'd : thou must die, or bleed. 
 
 Soul. O I am faint and spent: that lance that shall 
 Let forth my blood, lest forth m.y life withal : 
 My soul wants cordials, and has greater need 
 Of blood, than (being spent so far) to bleed : 
 I faint already ; if I bleed I die. 
 
 Jes. 'Tis either you must bleed, sick soul, or I: 
 My blood's a cordial. He that sucks my veins 
 Shall cleanse his own, and conquer greater pains 
 Than these. Cheer up ; this precious blood of mine 
 Shall cure thy grief; my heart shall bleed for thine. 
 Believe, and view me with a faithful eye ; 
 Thy soul shall neither languish, bleed, nor die. 
 
112 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 S. August, Lib. X. Confess, 
 
 Lord, be merciful unto me ! Ah me ! behold, I hide 
 not my wounds : thou art a Physician, and I am sick ; 
 thou art merciful, and I am miserable. 
 
 St. Greg, in Pastoral. 
 
 O wisdom, with how sweet an art doth thy wine 
 and oil restore health to my healthless soul ! How 
 powerfully merciful, how, mercifully powerful, art 
 thou ! Powerful for me, merciful to me ! 
 
 Epig, 3. 
 
 Canst thou be sick, and such a Doctor by ? 
 Thou canst not live, unless thy Doctor die : 
 Strange kind of grief, that finds no med'cine good 
 To 'suage her pains, but the Physician's blood 1 
 

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 Plalm .05.18. 
 7)chcld, CZrrci, niv XaluHir and my 2\iui ; 
 7']r(/iir //^l' Si/hS': t/iv c/uLffhou/Jfundrisfrta/i. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM IV. 
 
 Psalm xxv. 18. 
 
 Look upon my affliction and my pain, and forgive all 
 my sins. 
 
 Both work and strokes ? both lash and labour too ? 
 
 What more could Edom or proud Ashur do ? 
 
 Stripes after stripes ; and blows succeeding blows I 
 
 Lord, has thy scourge no mercy, and my Avoes 
 
 No end ? my pains no ease, no intermission ? 
 
 Is this the state, is this the sad condition, 
 
 Of those that trust thee ? Will thy goodness please 
 
 T' allow no other favours — none but these ? 
 
 Will not the rhet'ric of my torments move 1 
 
 Are these the symptoms, these the signs, of love ? 
 
 Is 't not enough, enough that I fulfil 
 
 The toilsome task of thy laborious mill ? 
 
 May not this labour expiate and purge 
 
 My sin, without th' addition of thy scourge ? 
 
 Look on my cloudy brow, how fast it rains 
 
 Sad showr's of sweat, the fruits of fruitless pains : 
 
 Behold these ridges ; see what purple furrows 
 
 Thy plough has made : O think upon those sorrows, 
 
 That once were thine ; wilt, wilt thou not be woo'd 
 
 To mercy by the charms of sweat and blood ? 
 
114 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Canst thou forget that drowsy mount, wherein 
 Thy dull disciples slept ? was not my sin 
 There punish'd in thy soul ? did not this brow 
 Then sweat in thine ? were not those drops enow ? 
 Remember Golgotha, where that spring-tide 
 O'erfiow'd thy sov'reign sacramental side : 
 There was no sin, there was no guile in thee, 
 That call'd those pains : thou sweat'st, thou bledd'st 
 
 for me. 
 Was there not blood enough, when one small drop 
 Had pow'r to ransom thousands worlds, and stop 
 The mouth of Justice? Lord, I bled before 
 In thy deep wounds ; can Justice challenge more ? 
 Or dost thou vainly labour to hedge in 
 Thy losses from my sides ? My blood is thin. 
 And thy free bounty scorns such easy thrift ; 
 No, no, thy blood came not as loan, but gift. 
 But must I ever grind ? and must I earn 
 Nothing but stripes ? O wilt thou disaltern* 
 The rest thou gav'st ? Hast thou perus'd the curse 
 Thou laid'st on Adam's fall, and made it worse ? 
 Canst thou repent of mercy ? Heav'n thought good 
 Lost man should feed in sweat, not work in blood : 
 Why dost thou wound th' already wounded breast ? 
 Ah me ! my life is but a pain at best ; 
 I am but dying dust ; my days a span ; 
 What pleasure tak'st thou in the blood of man ? 
 Spare, spare thy scourge, and be not so austere ? 
 Send fewer strokes, or lend more strength to bear. 
 
 * Disaltern, set aside the alternate changes stripes and rest, 
 common to man. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 115 
 
 S. Bern, in Horn. Ixxxi in Cant, 
 
 Miserable man ! who shall deliver me from the 
 reproach of this shameful bondage ? I am a miserable 
 man, but a free man : free, because a man ; miserable, 
 because a servant : in regard of my bondage, miser- 
 able ; in regard of my will, inexcusable : for my will, 
 that was free, beslaved itself to sin, by assenting to 
 sin ; for he that committeth sin is the servant to sin. 
 
 Epig. 4. 
 
 Tax not thy God : thine own defaults did urge 
 This two-fold punishment; the mill, the scourge. 
 Thy sin 's the author of thy self-tormenting : 
 Thou grind'st for sinning ; scourg'd for not repenting, 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM V. 
 
 Job. X. 9. 
 
 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as 
 the clay ; and wilt tl/ju bring me into dust again? 
 
 Thus from the bosom of the new-made earth 
 Poor man was delv'd,* and had his unborn birth : 
 The same the stuff; the self-same hand doth trim 
 The plant that fades, the beast that dies, and him : 
 One was their Sire, one was their common mother ; 
 Plants are his sisters, and the beast his brother ; 
 The elder too : beasts draw the self-same breath 
 Wax old alike, and die the self-same breath 
 Plants grow as he, with fairer robes array 'd ; 
 Alike they flourish, and alike they fade : 
 The beast in sense exceeds him ; and in growth, 
 The three-ag'd oak doth thrice exceed them both. 
 Why look'st thou then so big, thou little span 
 Of earth ? what art thou more in being man 1 
 I,f but my great Creator did inspire 
 My chosen earth with that diviner fire 
 Of reason ; gave me judgment, and a will ; 
 That to know good ; this, to choose good from ill : 
 He put the reins of pow'r in my free hand, 
 And jurisdiction over sea and land : 
 
 * Dcio'ddug. 
 t /, Aye. 
 
Job . io . () . 
 
 /t'r/nrftil'fr.lf'rt/. f/nif 7na.s' nmJc f'nrn (7uv 
 .['(/•/'/( thy ll'rdl/i cvitsutnc nic iftiitc iur<.n- . 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 117 
 
 He gave me art to lengthen out my span 
 Of life, and made me all in being man. 
 I,* but that passion has committed treason 
 Against the sacred person of thy reason : 
 Thy judgment is corrupt ; perverse thy will ; 
 That knows no good, and this makes choice of ill : 
 The greater height sends down the deeper fall ; 
 And good declin'd, turns bad, turns worst of all. 
 Say then, proud inch of living earth, what can 
 Thy greatness claim the more in being man ? 
 O ! but my soul transcends the pitch of Nature, 
 Borne up by th* image of her high Creator ; 
 Outbraves the life of Reason, and bears down 
 Her waxen wings, kicks off her brazen crown. 
 My earth's a living temple t' entertain 
 The king of Glory, and his glorious train : 
 How can I mend my title, then ? where can 
 Ambition find a higher style than Man ? 
 Ah ! but that image is defac'd and soil'd ; 
 Her temple's raz'd, her altars all defil'd ; 
 Her vessels are polluted, and distain'd 
 With loathed lust ; her ornaments profan'd ; 
 Her oil-forsaken lamps and hallow'd tapers 
 Put out ; her incense breathes unsav'ry vapours : 
 Why swell'st thou then so big, thou little span 
 Of earth 1 what art thou more in being man ? 
 Eternal Potter, whose blest hands did lay 
 My coarse foundation from a sod of clay. 
 Thou know'st my slender vessel's apt to leak ; 
 Thou know'st my brittle temper's prone to break : 
 Are my bones Brazil, or my flesh of oak ? 
 O, mend what thou hast made, what I have broke : 
 Look, look with gentle eyes, and in thy day 
 Of vengeance, Lord, remember I am clay. 
 
 * /,Aye. 
 
118 EMBLEMS. BOOK III, 
 
 St. August. Snliloq. xxxii. 
 
 Shall I ask, who made me? It was thou that madest 
 me, without whom nothing was made : Thou art 
 my Maker, and 1 thy work. I thank thee, my Lord 
 God, by whom I live, and by whom all things sub- 
 sist, because thou madest me; I thank thee O my 
 Potter, because thy hands have made me, because 
 thy hands have formed me. 
 
 Epig. 5. 
 
 Why swell'st thou, man, puff'd up with fame and 
 
 purse ? 
 Th' art better earth, but born to dig the worse : 
 Thou cam'st from earth, to earth thou must return ; 
 And art but earth, cast from the womb to th' urn. 
 
BOOK III. 
 
 IB LE"^! 
 
 vIoId. j. 20. 
 Zrrd I June j;i/in'(l .' vet CJi .' ju/nrc /iiv (',u\ 
 JTv scf nie ns uJtark tJiv tl'/iit/i tc /iuir . 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM VI. 
 
 Job vii. 20. 
 
 / have sinned ; what shall I do unto thee, O thou 
 preserver of men 9 why hast thou set me as a mark 
 against thee 9 
 
 Lord, I have done ; and. Lord, I have misdone ; 
 
 'Tis folly to contest, to strive with one 
 
 That is too strong ; 'tis folly to assail 
 
 Or prove an arm, that will, that must, prevail. 
 
 I 've done, I 've done ; these trembling hands have 
 
 thrown 
 Their daring weapons down : the day's thine own : 
 Forbear to strike where thou hast won the field ; 
 The palm, the palm is thine : I yield, I yield. 
 These treach'rous hands, that were so vainly bold 
 To try a thriveless* combat, and to hold 
 Self-wounding weapons up, are now extended 
 For mercy from thy hand ; that knee that bended 
 Upon her guardless guard,-!- ^^^^ ^^^^ repent 
 LTpon this naked floor; see, both are bent, 
 And sue for pity : O, my ragged wound . 
 Is deep and desp'rate, it is drench'd and drown'd 
 In blood and briny tears : it doth begin 
 To stink without, and putrefy within. 
 Let that victorious hand, that now appears 
 Just in my blood, prove gracious to my tears : 
 
 * Thriveless, unsuccessful. 
 t A term in fencing. 
 
120 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Thou great Preserver of presumptuous man, 
 
 What shall I do ? what satisfaction can 
 
 Poor dust and ashes make ? O, if that blood, 
 
 That yet remains unshed, where half as good 
 
 As blood of oxen ; if my death might be 
 
 An ofTring to atone my God and me ; 
 
 I would disdain injurious life, and stand 
 
 A suitor, to be wounded from thy hand. 
 
 But may thy wrongs be measured by the span 
 
 Of life, or balanc'd with the blood of man 1 
 
 No, no, eternal sin expects, for guerdon,* 
 
 Eternal penance, or eternal pardon : 
 
 Lay down thy weapons, turn thy wrath away. 
 
 And pardon him that hath no price to pay : 
 
 Enlarge that soul, which base presumption binds ; 
 
 Thy justice cannot lose what mercy finds : 
 
 thou, that wilt not bruise the broken reed, 
 
 Rub not my sores, nor prick the wounds that bleed. 
 
 Lord, if the peevish infant fights, and flies. 
 
 With unpar'd weapons, at his mother's eyes, 
 
 Her frowns (half-mix'd with smiles) may chance to 
 
 show 
 An angry love-trick on his arm, or so ; 
 Where, if the babe but make a lip, and cry. 
 Her heart begins to melt, and, by-and-by. 
 She coakesf his dewy cheeks; her babe she blesses, 
 And chokes her language with a thousand kisses. 
 
 1 am that child : lo, here I prostrate lie. 
 Pleading for mercy ; I repent, and cry 
 For gracious pardon : let thy gentle ears 
 
 Hear that in words, what mothers judge in tears: 
 See not my frailties. Lord, but through my fear. 
 And look on ev'ry trespass through a tear : 
 Then calm thine anger, and appear more mild ; 
 Remember thou 'rt a Father, I a child. 
 
 * Guerdon, reward, 
 f Ccakes, soothes. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 121 
 
 S, Bern, Ser. xxi. in Cant. 
 
 Miserable man! who shall deliver me from the 
 reproach of this shameful bondage ? I am a miserable 
 man, but a free man : free because like to GoD ; 
 miserable, because against God. O, Keeper of man- 
 kind, why hast thou set me as a mark against thee ? 
 Thou hast set me, because thou hast not hindered 
 me : It is just that thy enemy should be my enemy, 
 and that he who repugneth thee should repugn* me : I 
 who am against thee, am against myself. 
 
 Epig, 6. 
 
 But form'd and fight ? but born, and then rebel ? 
 How small a blast will make a bubble swell ! 
 But dare the floor affront the hand that laid it ? 
 So apt is dust to fly in 's face that made it. 
 
 Repugn, be against, or contrary to. 
 
 M 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM VII. 
 
 Job xiii. 24. 
 
 Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for 
 thine enemy 9 
 
 "Why dost thou shade thy lovely face ? O why 
 Does that eclipsing hand so long deny 
 The sunshine of thy soul-enliv'ning eye ? 
 
 "Without that light, what light remains in me ? 
 Thou art my Life, my Way, my Light ; in thee 
 I live, I move, and by thy beams I see. 
 
 Thou art my Life ; if thou but turn away. 
 
 My life's a thousand deaths : thou art my Way ; 
 
 Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but stray. 
 
 My Light thou art ; without thy glorious sight, 
 Mine eyes are darken'd with perpetual night : 
 My God, thou art my Way, my Life, my Light. 
 
 Thou art my Way; I wander, if thou fly : 
 Thou art my Light ; if hid, how blind am I ! 
 Thou art my Life ; if thou withdraw, I die. 
 
 Mine eyes are blind and dark, I cannot see ; 
 To whom, or whither, should my darkness flee. 
 But to the Light 1 and who's that Light but thee ? 
 
.lob .13. 'if. 
 Aiul liiili- /ii' fnt'T-r ffii- (rfi r/tx I /'fnvTact . 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 123 
 
 My path is lost, my wand'ring steps do stray ; 
 
 I cannot safely go, nor safely stay : 
 
 Whom should 1 seek but thee, my Path, my Way ? 
 
 O, I am dead : to whom shall I, poor I, 
 
 Repair ? To whom shall my sad ashes fly 
 
 But Life ? And where is Life but in thine eye ? 
 
 And yet thou turn'st away thy face, and fly'st me ; 
 And yet I sue for grace, and thou deny'st me : 
 Speak, art thou angry, Lord, or only try'st me ? 
 
 Unscreen those heav'nly lamps, or tell me why 
 Thou shad'st thy face : perhaps thou think'st no eye 
 Can view those flames, and not drop down and die. 
 
 If that be all, shine forth, and draw the nigher; 
 Let me behold and die, for my desire 
 Is, phoenix-like, to perish in that Are. 
 
 Death-conquer'd Lazarus was redeem'd by thee : 
 If I am dead, Lord, set Death's pris'ner free ; 
 Am I more spent, or stink I worse than he ? 
 
 If my puff'd life be out, give leave to tine"*" 
 My flameless snuff at that bright lamp of thine : 
 O what's thy light the less for lighting mine ? 
 
 If I have lost my path, great Shepherd, say, 
 Shall I still wander in a doubtful way ? 
 Lord, shall a lamb of Israel's sheepfold stray ? 
 
 Thou art the pilgrim's path ; the blind man's eye ; 
 The dead man's life : on thee my hopes rely : 
 If thou remove, I err, I grope, I die. 
 
 Disclose thy sunbeams, close thy wings, and stay ; 
 See, see how I am blind, and dead, and stray, 
 O thou that art my Light, my Life, my Way. 
 
 * Tine, to light np. 
 
124 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 St, August, Soliloq. Cap, i. 
 
 Why dost thou hide thy face? Haply thou wilt 
 say, None can see thy face and live : Ah, Loed, let 
 me die, that I may see thee ; let me see thee, that I 
 may die : I would not live, but die : that I may 
 see Christ, I desire death ; that I may live with 
 Christ, I despise life. 
 
 Anselm. Med, Cap, v. 
 
 O excellent hiding, which is become my perfection! 
 My God, thou hidest thy treasure, to kindle my de- 
 sire ; thou hidest the pearl, to inflame the seeker ; 
 thou delayest to give, that thou mayest teach me to 
 importune; seemest not to hear, to make me per- 
 severe. 
 
 Epig, 7. 
 
 If Heav'n's all-quick'ning eyes vouchsafe to shine 
 Upon our souls, we slight ; if not, we whine : 
 Our equinoctial hearts can never lie 
 Secure beneath the tropics of that eye. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 Printed, by John Nichols, Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand. 
 
Jer.g.i. 
 
 tJitit nn/ic I\v<u9. hJcf'j^'oiiiiitii/usjniilil^lll^i 
 
 fi.i-frftuii liif/i /•■'t.-.y rwi'7ii''''i 
 
 'ti/t'f/ (r mv Sill 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM VIII. 
 
 Jer. ix. 1. 
 
 Oh that my head ivere waters and mine eyes a foun- 
 tain of tear Sy that I might weep day and night, 
 
 THAT mine eyes were springs, and could transform 
 Their drops to seas, my sighs into a stonn 
 
 Of zeal, and sacred violence, wherein 
 
 This lab'ring vessel, laden with her sin, 
 
 Might suffer sudden shipwreck, and be split 
 
 Upon that Rock, where my drench'd soul may sit, 
 
 0'erwhelm*d with plenteous passion : O, and there 
 
 Drop, drop into an everlasting tear ! 
 
 Ah me ! that ev'ry sliding vein that wanders 
 
 Through this vast isle, did work her wild meanders 
 
 In brackish tears instead of blood, and swell 
 
 This flesh with holy dropsies, from whose well. 
 
 Made warm with sighs may fume my wasting breath, 
 
 Whilst I dissolve in steams and reek* to death ! 
 
 These narrow sluices of my dribbling eyes 
 
 Are much too strait for those quick springs that rise, 
 
 And hourly fill my temples to the top ; 
 
 1 cannot shed for ev'ry sin a drop. 
 
 * Reeky to wear away ; as, " His sickness, reeks, him." 
 VOL. II. B 
 
2 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Great Builder of mankind, why hast thou sent 
 Such swelling floods, and made so small a vent ? 
 O that this flesh had been compos'd of snow. 
 Instead of earth ; and bones of ice ; that so, 
 Feeling the fervour of my sin, and loathing 
 The fire I feel, I might be thaw'd to nothing ! 
 
 thou that didst, with hopeful joy, entomb 
 Me thrice three moons in thy laborious womb, 
 And then, with joyful pain, brought'st forth a son. 
 What, worth thy labour, has thy labour done ? 
 What was there, ah I what was there in my birth 
 That could deserve the easiest smile of mirth ? 
 
 A man was born : alas ! and what's a man ? 
 
 A scuttle full of dust, a measur'd span 
 
 Of flitting time ; a furnish'd pack,* whose wares 
 
 Are sullen griefs, and soul-tormenting cares : 
 
 A vale of tears ; a vessel tunn'd with breath. 
 
 By sickness broach'd, to be drawn out by death : 
 
 A hapless, helpless thing, that, born, does cry 
 
 To feed ; that feeds to live ; that lives to die. 
 
 Great God and Man, whose eyes spent drops so often 
 
 For me, that cannot weep enough, O soften 
 
 These marble brains, and strike this flinty rock ; 
 
 Or, if the music of thy Peter's cock 
 
 Will more prevail, fill, fill my heark'ning ears 
 
 With that sweet sound, that I may melt in tears : 
 
 1 cannot weep until thou broach mine eye ; 
 O give me went, or else I burst, and die. 
 
 * Pack, a bundle or parcel of commodities packed up. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 
 
 S. Amhros. in PsaL cxviii. 
 
 He that commits sins to be wept for, cannot weep 
 for sins committed ; and, being himself most lament- 
 able, hath no tears to lament his offences. 
 
 Nazianz. Orat. iii. 
 
 Tears are the deluge of sin, and the world's 
 sacrifice. 
 
 S, Hierom. in Esaiam* 
 
 Prayer appeases God, but a tear compels him : 
 that moves him, but this constrains him. 
 
 Bpig. 8. 
 
 Earth is an island ported round with fears ; 
 The way to Heav'n is through the sea of tears : 
 It is a stormy passage, where is found 
 The wreck of many a ship, but no man drown'd. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM IX. 
 
 Psalm xxviii. 5. 
 
 The sorrows of hell compassed me about, and the 
 snares of death prevented me. 
 
 Is not this type well cut \ in ev'ry part 
 
 Full of rich cunning ? fiU'd with Zeuxian art ? 
 
 Are not the hunters, and their Stygian hounds, 
 
 Limn'd full to th' life ? Didst ever hear the sounds, 
 
 The music, and the lip-divided breaths. 
 
 Of the strong-winded horn, recheats,* and deaths, 
 
 Done more exact ? th* infernal Nimrod's halloo ? 
 
 The lawless purlieus ?f and the game they follow ? 
 
 The hidden engines ? and the snares that lie 
 
 So undiscovered, so obscure to th' eye ? 
 
 The new-drawn net, and her entagled prey ? 
 
 And him that closes it ? Beholder, say, 
 
 Is *t not well done ? seems not an em'lous strife 
 
 Betwixt the rare cut picture and the life ? 
 
 These perlieu men are devils ; and the hounds 
 
 ('Those quick-nos'd cannibals that scour the grounds) 
 
 Temptations ; and the game these fiends pursue 
 
 Are human souls, which still they have in view ; 
 
 "Whose fury if they chance to 'scape by flying, 
 
 The skilful hunter plants his net, close lying 
 
 Recheats, (a hunting term,; when the horn blows to a retreat 
 from a false scent. 
 
 t Pur/ierw, forbidden ground. 
 
B O O K HI . 
 
 riainii8.5 
 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. O 
 
 On th' unsuspected earth, baited with treasure, 
 Ambitious honour, and self-wasting pleasure ; 
 Where, if the soul but stoop, Death stands prepar'd 
 To draw the net, and, drawn, the soul's insnar'd. 
 Poor soul ! how art thou hurried to and fro ! 
 Where canst thou safely stay? where safely go? 
 If stay; these hot-mouth'd hounds are apt to tear thee : 
 If go : the snares enclose, the nets insnare thee : 
 What good in this bad world has pow'r t* invite thee 
 A willing guest ? wherein can earth delight thee ? 
 Her pleasures are but itch ; her wealth but cares ; 
 A world of dangers, and a world of snares : 
 The close pursuer's busy hands do plant 
 Snares in thy substance ; snares attend thy want : 
 Snares in thy credit ; snares in thy disgrace ; 
 Snares in thy high estate ; snares in thy base ; 
 Snares tuck thy bed ; and snares surround thy board; 
 Snares watch thy thoughts ; and snares attach thy word ; 
 Snares in thy quiet ; snares in thy commotion ; 
 Snares in thy diet ; snares in thy devotion ; 
 Snares lurk in thy resolves, snares in thy doubt ; 
 Snares lie within thy heart, and snares without ; 
 Snares are above thy head, and snares beneath ; 
 Snares in thy sickness ; snares are in thy death, 
 Oh ! if these purlieus be so full of danger, 
 Great God of hearts, the world's sole sov'reign Ranger, 
 Preserve thy deer ; and let my soul be blest 
 In thy safe forest, where I seek for rest ; 
 Then let the hell-hounds roar, I fear no ill ; 
 Rouse me they may, but have no pow'r to kill. 
 
 VOL. II. c 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 S. Amhros. Lib. iv. in Cap. iv. Lucce, 
 
 The reward of honours, the height of power, the 
 delicacy of diet, and the beauty of a harlot, are the 
 snares of the devil. 
 
 S. Amhros. de Bono Mortis. 
 
 Whilst thou seekest pleasures, thou runnest into 
 snares ; for the eye of the harlot is the snare of the 
 adulterer. 
 
 Savanar, 
 
 In eating, he sets before us gluttony ; in genera- 
 tion, luxury; in labour, sluggishness; in conversing, 
 envy; in governing, covetousness; in correcting, 
 anger ; in honour, pride ; in the heart he sets evil 
 thoughts; in the mouth, evil words; in actions, evil 
 works; when awake, he moves us to evil actions; 
 when a sleep, to filthy dreams. 
 
 Epig, 9. 
 
 Be sad, my heart I deep dangers wait thy mirth; 
 Thy soul's waylaid by sea, by hell, by earth : 
 Hell has her hounds ; earth, snares ; the sea, a shelf; 
 But, most of all, my heart beware thyself. 
 
B o o k: HI , 
 
 ET.IBLElvI 10. 
 
 F(>7' in thy .^////it./f'/int ,)>■?// /V'vv/? Sin is' vhuir.' 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM X. 
 
 Psalm cxliii. 2. 
 
 Enter not into judgement with thy servant ; for in thy 
 sight shall no man living he justified. 
 
 JESUS. JUSTICE. SINNER. 
 
 Jes. Bring forth the pris'ner. Justice. 
 
 Just. Thy commands 
 
 Are done, just Judge : see, here the pris'ner stands. 
 
 Jes. What has the pris'ner done ? Say what's the 
 cause 
 Of his commitment ? 
 
 Just. He hath broke the laws 
 
 Of his too-gracious God ; conspir'd the death 
 Of that great Majesty that gave him breath ; 
 And heaps transgression, Lord, upon trangression. 
 
 Jes. How know'st thou this ? 
 
 Just. E'en by his own confession : 
 
 His sins are crying ; and they cry'd aloud : 
 They cry'd to Heav'n ; they cry'd to Heav'n for 
 blood. 
 
 Jes. What say'st thou, sinner? hast thou ought to 
 plead 
 That sentence should not pass ? Hold up thy head, 
 And show thy brazen, thy rebellious face. 
 
 Sin. Ah me ! I dare not : I 'm too vile and base 
 To tread upon thy earth much more to lift 
 Mine eyes to Heav'n : I need no other shrift* 
 Than my own conscience : Lord, I must confess, 
 I am no more than dust, and no whit less 
 
 * Shrift, confession : an old word for auricular confession witk 
 Papists. 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Than my indictment Styles me : ah! if thou 
 Search to severe, with too severe a brow, 
 What flesh can stand ? I have transgress'd thy laws ; 
 My merits plead thy vengeance ; not my cause. 
 
 Just. Lord, shall I strike the blow ? 
 
 Jes. Hold, Justice, stay: 
 
 Sinner, speak on ; what hast thou more to say ? 
 
 Sin. Vile as I am, and of myself abhor'd, 
 I am thy handy-work, thy creature. Lord, 
 Stamp'd with thy glorious image, and at first 
 Most like to thee, though now a poor accurst 
 Convicted caitiff, and degen'rous creature, 
 Here trembling at thy bar. 
 
 Jmt, Thy fault's the greater. 
 
 Lord, shall I strike the blow ? 
 
 Jes* Hold, Justice, stay : 
 
 Speak, sinner ; hast thou nothing more to say ? 
 
 Sin. Nothing but Mercy, mercy ! Lord, my state 
 Is miserably poor and desperate ; 
 I quite renounce myself, the world, and flee 
 From Lord to Jesus, from thyself to thee. 
 
 Just. Cease thy vain hopes ; my angry God has 
 vow'd : 
 Abused mercy must have blood for blood : 
 Shall I yet strike the blow ? 
 
 Jes, Stay, Justice, hold ; 
 
 My bowels yearn, my fainting blood, grows cold. 
 To view the trembling wretch ; methinks I spy 
 My father's image in the pris'ner's eye. 
 
 Just. I cannot hold. 
 
 Jes. Then turn thy thirsty blade 
 
 Into my sides ; let there the wound be made : 
 Cheer up, dear soul ; redeem thy life with mine : 
 My soul shall smart, my heart shall bleed for thine. 
 
 Sin. O groundless* deeps ! O love beyond degree ! 
 Th' offended dies to set th' offender free. 
 
 * Groundless, without bottom. 
 
BOOR III. EMBLEMS. 
 
 S. August* 
 
 Lord, if I have done that for which thou mayest 
 damn me, thou hast not lost that whereby thou mayest 
 save me : remember not sweet Jesus, thy justice 
 against the sinner, but thy benignity towards thy 
 creature : remember not to proceed against a guilty 
 soul, but remember thy mercy towards a miserable 
 wretch : forget the insolence of the provoker, and be- 
 hold the misery of the invoker ; for what is Jesus 
 but a Saviour ? 
 
 Anselm. 
 
 Have respect to what thy Son hath done for me, 
 and forget what my sins have done against thee : my 
 flesh hath provoked thee to vengeance ; let the flesh 
 of Christ move thee to mercy : It is much that ray 
 rebellions have deserved ; but it is more that my 
 Redeemer hath merited. 
 
 Epig. 10. 
 
 Mercy of mercies ! He that was my drudge 
 Is now my Advocate, is now my Judge : 
 He suffers, pleads, and sentences alone : 
 Three I adore, and yet adore but One. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM XI. 
 
 Psalm Ixix. 15. 
 
 Let not the water-Jiood oversow me^ neither let the deep 
 swallotv me up. 
 
 The world's a sea : my flesh a ship that's mann'd 
 
 With lab'ring thoughts, and steer'd by Reason's hand: 
 
 My heart's the seaman's card,* whereby she sails ; 
 
 My loose affections are the greater sails : 
 
 The top-sail is my fancy ; and the gusts 
 
 That fill these wanton sheets are worldly lusts : 
 
 Pray'r is the cable, at whose end appears 
 
 The anchor Hope, ne'er slipp'd but in our fears : 
 
 My wiir s th' unconstant pilot, that commands 
 
 The stagg'ring keel ; my sins are like the sands : 
 
 Repentance is the bucket ; and my eye 
 
 The pump, unus'd (but in extremes) and dry : * 
 
 My conscience is the plummet, that doth press 
 
 The deeps, but seldom cries, A fathom less : 
 
 Smooth calm's security ; the gulf, despair ; 
 
 I^. yireight's corruption, and this life's my fare : 
 
 My soul's the passenger^ confus'dly driv'n 
 
 From fear to fright ; her landing port is Heav'n. 
 
 My seas are stormy, and my ship doth leak ; 
 
 My sailors rude ; my steersman faint and weak : 
 
 * Catd, sheet, cable; sea terms, all of them proper and beautiful. 
 
Pfailin. 6<) .1^ 
 
 Jfl Tiftr/i's ,i/rt(u{v ity'f-rA',/ ' (' tinir/v .vmr 
 TAv ny-etrhcd Sn/t/t/innt /icrn a IfnlrvOrnK 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. ll 
 
 My canvass torn, it flaps from side to side : 
 
 My cable's crack'd ; my anchor's slightly ty'd : 
 
 My pilot's craz'd ; my shipwreck sands are chok'd ; 
 
 My bucket's broken, and my pump is chok'd ; 
 
 My calm's deceitful, and my gulf too near ; 
 
 My wares are slubber'd, and my fare's too dear : 
 
 My plummet's light, it cannot sink nor sound ; 
 
 Oh shall my rock-bethreaten'd soul be drown'd ? 
 
 Lord, still the seas, and shield my ship from harm ; 
 
 Instruct my sailors, guide my steersman's arm : 
 
 Touch thou my compass, and renew my sails ; 
 
 Send stifFer courage, or send milder gales : 
 
 Make strong my cable, bind my anchor faster ; 
 
 Direct my pilot, and be thou his master : 
 
 Object the sands to my more serious view ; 
 
 Make sound my bucket, bore my pump anew : 
 
 New-cast my plummet, make it apt to try 
 
 Where the rocks lurk, and where the quicksands lie ; 
 
 Guard thou the gulf with love, my calms with care ; 
 
 Cleanse thou my freight ; accept my slender fare ; 
 
 Refresh the sea- sick passenger ; cut short 
 
 His voyage ; land him in his wished port : 
 
 Thou, thou whom winds and stormy seas obey. 
 
 That through the deeps gav'st grumbling Isr'el way. 
 
 Say to my soul, Be safe ; and then mine eye 
 
 Shall scorn grim Death, although grim Death stand by, 
 
 thou whose strength-reviving arm did cherish 
 Thy sinking Peter, at the point to perish, 
 Reach forth thy hand, or bid me tread the wave ; 
 
 1 '11 come, I '11 come : the voice that calls will save. 
 
12 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 S. Amhros* Apol. post, pro David. Cap. iii. 
 
 The confluence of lusts make a great tempest, 
 which in this sea disturbeth the seafaring soul, that 
 reason cannot govern it. 
 
 S. August. Soliloq. Cap. xxxv. 
 
 We labour in a boisterous sea : thou standest upon 
 the shore, and seest our dangers give us grace to 
 hold a middle course between Scylla and Charybdis, 
 that, both dangers escaped, we may arrive at our port 
 secure. 
 
 Epig, 11. 
 
 My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger 
 In these false coasts ; O keep aloof; there's danger 
 Cast forth thy plummet ; see, a rock appears ; 
 Thy ship wants sea-room ; make it with thy tears. 
 
.1^^t9 
 
B O OKm. 
 
 EMBLEM 12. 
 
 Job 34, . 1^ . 
 
 (*.' that Zooitlii ^voTtic .vec/Tt p/arr r.v/t/rrr , 
 To Jiide rne tilf /he TZrr/r cfTT/'ath /-r err / 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM XII. 
 
 Job xiv. 13. 
 
 that thou wouldit hide me in the grave, that thou 
 wouldest keep me in secret^ until thy wrath he past, 
 
 O WHITHER shall I flee ? what path untrod 
 Shall I seek out, to 'scape the flaming rod 
 Of my offended, of my angry God ? 
 
 Where shall I sojourn ? what kind sea will hide 
 My head from thunder ? where shall I abide. 
 Until his flames be quench'd or laid aside ? 
 
 What if my feet should take their hasty flight. 
 And seek protection in the shades of night ? 
 Alas ! no shades can blind the God of light. 
 
 What if my soul should take the wings of day. 
 And find some desert ? If she spring away. 
 The wings of Vengeance clip* as fast as they. 
 
 What if some solid rock should entertain 
 My frighted soul ? Can solid rocks restrain 
 The stroke of Justice, and not cleave in twain ? 
 
 Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave. 
 
 Nor silent deserts, nor the sullen grave, 
 
 Where flame-ey'd Fury means to smite, can save. 
 
 * Clip, cut the air, or fly. 
 
2.4 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 The seas will part, graves open, rocks will split ; 
 The shield will cleave ; the freighted shadows flit ; 
 Where Justice aims, her fiery darts must hit. 
 
 No, no, if stern-brow'd Vengeance means to thunder, 
 There is no place above, beneath nor under, 
 So close, but will unlock, or rive in sunder. 
 
 'Tis vain to flee ; 'tis neither here nor there 
 Can 'scape that hand until that hand forbear ; 
 Ah me ! where is he not, that's ev'ry where ? 
 
 'Tis vain to flee ; till gentle Mercy show 
 
 Her better eye, the farther off we go, 
 
 The swing of Justice deals the mightier blow. 
 
 Th' ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly 
 His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh. 
 And quenches with his tears her flaming eye. 
 
 Shadows are faithless, and the rocks are false ; 
 No trust in brass, no trust in marble walls ; 
 Poor cots are e'en as safe as princes' halls. 
 
 Great God ! there is no safety here below ; 
 
 Thou art my fortress, though thou seem'st my foe ; 
 
 'Tis thou, that strik'st the stroke, must guard the blow. 
 
 Thou art my God, by thee I fall or stand ; 
 Thy grace hath giv'n me courage to withstand 
 All tortures but my conscience, and thy hand. 
 
 I know thy justice is thyself; I know. 
 Just God, thy very self is mercy too ; 
 If not to thee, where, whither should I go ? 
 
 Then work thy will ; if passion bid me flee, 
 My reason shall obey ; my wings shall be 
 Stretch'd out no further than from Thee to Thee. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 15 
 
 S, August, in Psal. xxx. 
 
 Whither fly I ? to what place can I safely fly ? 
 to what mountain ? to what den ? to what strong 
 house ? what castle shall I hold ? what walls shall 
 hold me ? whithersoever, I go, myself foUoweth me : 
 for whatsoever thou fliest, O man, thou mayest, but 
 thy own conscience : wheresoever , O Lord, I go, I 
 find thee, if angry; a revenger ; if appeased, a Re- 
 deemer : what way have I, but to fly from Thee to 
 Thee ? That thou mayest avoid thy God, address thee 
 to thy Lord. 
 
 Epig. 12. 
 
 Hath Vengeance found thee ? can thy fears command 
 No rocks to shield thee from her thund'ring hand ? 
 Know'st thou not where to 'scape ? I '11 tell thee 
 
 where : 
 My soul, make clean thy conscience ; hide thee there. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM XIII 
 
 Job. X. 20. 
 
 Are not my days few ? cease then, and let me alone, 
 that I may take comfort a little. 
 
 My glass is half unspent ; forbear t' arrest 
 My thriftless day too soon : my poor request 
 Is that my glass may run but out the rest. 
 
 My time-devoured minutes will be done 
 Without thy help ; see, see how swift they run : 
 Cut not my thread before my thread be spun. 
 
 The gain's not great I purchase by this stay ; 
 What loss sustain'st thou by so small delay. 
 To whom ten thousand years are but a day ? 
 
 My following eye can hardly make a shift 
 To count my winged hours ; they fly so swift. 
 They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift. 
 
 The secret wheels of hurrying Time to give 
 So short a warning, and so fast they drive. 
 That I am dead before I seem to live. 
 
 And what's a life ? A weary pilgrimage. 
 Whose glory, in one day, doth fill the stage 
 With childhood, manhood; and decrepid sge. 
 
Job.io.2o. 
 
 /Ifv-Dqwi' (trc frir ,• Ayttu'c f/ic/t fnvfor/cttJitu-ttf/i.- 
 •Th^.frla/^rnns/as't thiit vo'fJ.v rur tr/t /rDr/tf// . 
 
BOOK HI. EMBLEMS. 17 
 
 And what 's a life ? The flourishing array 
 Of the proud summer-meadow, which to-day 
 "Wears her green plush, and is, to-morrow, hay. 
 
 And what's a life ? A blast sustain'd with clothing, 
 Maintain'd with food, retain'd with vile self-loathing, 
 Then weary of itself, again'd to nothing. 
 
 Read, on this dial, how the shades devour 
 My short-liv'd winter's day; hour eats up hour ; 
 Alas ! the total's but from eight to four. 
 
 Behold these lilies, (which thy hands have made 
 
 Fair copies of my lite, and open laid 
 
 To view,) how soon they droop, how soon they fade ! 
 
 Shade not that dial night will blind too soon ; 
 My non-ag'd day already points to noon : 
 How simple is my suit ! how small my boon ! 
 
 Nor do I beg this slender inch, to while 
 
 The time away, or falsely to beguile 
 
 My thoughts with joy ; here's nothing worth a smile. 
 
 No, no : 'tis not to please my wanton ears 
 "With frantic mirth ; I beg but hours, not years 
 And what thou giv'st me I will give to tears. 
 
 Draw not that soul which would be rather led ; 
 That seed has yet not broke my serpent's head ; 
 
 shall I die before my sins are dead ? 
 
 Behold these rags ; am I a fitting guest 
 
 To taste the dainties of thy royal feast. 
 
 With hands and face unwash'd, ungirt, unblest ? 
 
 First, let the Jordan streams (that find supplies 
 
 From the deep fountain of my heart) arise, 
 
 A.nd cleanse my spots, and clear my lep'rous eyes. 
 
 1 have a world of sins to be lamented ; 
 
 I have a sea of tears that must be vented : 
 O spare till then ; and then I die contented. 
 
 VOL. II. D 
 
18 EMBLEMS. BOOK III 
 
 S. August. Lib. vii. de Civit. Dei. Cap. x. 
 
 The time wherein we live is taken from the space 
 of our life ; and what remaineth is daily made less and 
 less, insomuch that the time of our life is nothing but 
 a passage to death. 
 
 S, Greg. Lib. ix. Mot, Cap. xliv. in Cap. x. Job. 
 
 As moderate afflictions bring tears, so immoderate 
 take away tears ; insomuch that sorrow, becometh no 
 sorrow, which, swallowing up the mind of the afflict- 
 ed; taketh away the sense of the affliction. 
 
 Epig. 13. 
 
 Fear'st thou to go when such an arm invites thee ? 
 Dread'st thou thy loads of sin ? or what affrights 
 
 thee? 
 If thou begin to fear, thy fear begins : 
 Fool, can he bear thee hence, and not thy sins ? 
 
# 
 
B O OK m. 
 
 EMBLEM 14. 
 
 C flurt JLih/cI/k/ ilt'/ifj Jf/.f, /{•/// a- Irn-,- ,lfft/nf: 
 T/i Z//<- /'frpnritiq for f/nir /'r/(tr A'/n/ . 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM XIV. 
 
 Deut. xxxii. 29. 
 
 that they were wise, that they understood this, that 
 they ivould consider their latter end! 
 
 FLESH. SPIRIT. 
 
 Fl. What means my sister's eyes so oft to pass 
 Through the long entry of that optic glass ? 
 Tell me ; what secret virtue doth invite 
 Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight ? 
 
 Sp. It helps the sight, makes things remote appear 
 In perfect view ; it draws the object near. 
 
 FL What sense-delighting objects dost thou spy ? 
 What doth that glass present before thine eye ? 
 
 Sp. I see thy foe, my reconciled friend. 
 Grim Death, e'en standing at the glass's end : 
 His left hand holds a branch of palm ; his right 
 Holds forth ai^two-edg'd sword. 
 
 Fl. A proper sight ! 
 And is this all ? doth thy prospective please 
 Th' abused fancy with no shapes but these ? 
 
 Sp. Yes, I behold the darken'd sun bereav'n 
 Of all his light ; the battlements of Heav'n 
 Swelt'ring in flames ; the-angel-guarded Son 
 Of glory on his high tribunal throne : 
 
 1 sea a brimstone sea of boiling fire. 
 
 And fiends, with knotted whips of flaming wire, 
 
20 EMBLEMS, BOOK III. 
 
 Tort'ring poor souls, that gnash their teeth in vain, 
 And gnaw their flame-tormented tongues for pain. 
 Look, sister, how the *queasy-stomach'd graves 
 Vomit their dead, and how the purple waves 
 Scald their consumeless bodies, strongly cursing 
 All wombs for bearing, and all paps for nursing. 
 
 Fl. Can thy distemper'd fancy take delight 
 In view of tortures ? these are shows t' affright : 
 Look in this glass triangular ; look here ; 
 Here's that will ravish eyes. 
 
 Sp. What seest thou there ? 
 
 Fl. The world in colours ; colours that disdain 
 The cheeks of Proteus, or the silken train 
 Of Flora's nymphs ; such various sorts of hue 
 As sun-confronting Iris never knew : 
 Here, if thou please to beautify a town. 
 Thou may'st ; or, with a hand, turn't upside down : . 
 Here may'st thou scant or widen by the measure 
 Of thine own will ; make short or long at pleasure : 
 Here may'st thou tire thy fancy, and advise 
 With shows more apt to please more curious eyes. 
 
 Sp. Ah fool ! that dot*st on vain, on present toys, 
 And disrespect'st those true, those future joys I 
 How strongly are thy thoughts befool'd. alas ! 
 To doat on goods that perish with thy glass ! 
 Nay, vanish with the turning of a hand ! 
 Were they but painted colours, it might stand 
 With painted reason that they might devote thee ; 
 But things that have no being to besot rhee ! 
 Foresight of future torment is the way 
 To balk those ills which present joys bewray. 
 As thou hast fool'd thyself, so now come hither ; 
 Break that fond glass, and let 's be wise together. 
 
 * Queasy y sick at stomach, apt toyomit. 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 21 
 
 S. Bonavent. de Coniempiu Sceculi, 
 
 O that men would be wise, and understand, and 
 foresee. Be wise, to know three things : the multi- 
 tude of those that are to be damned ; the few number 
 of those that are to be saved ; and the vanity of tran- 
 sitory, things : understand three things ; the multi- 
 tude of sins, the omission of good things, and the loss 
 of time : foresee three things ; the danger of death, 
 the last judgment, and eternal punishment. 
 
 Epig, 14. 
 
 What, soul, no further yet ? what, ne'er commence 
 Master* in faith ? still Bachelor of Sense ? 
 Is 't insufficiency ? or what has made thee 
 O'erslip thy lost degree ? Thy lusts have staid thee. 
 
 * Master, Bachelor , degree j titles and terms used in Universities. 
 
BOOK III.— EMBLEM XV. 
 
 Psalm xxxi. 10. 
 My life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing. 
 
 What sullen star rul'd my untimely birth. 
 
 That would not lend my days one hour of mirth ? 
 
 How oft have these bare knees been bent, to gain 
 
 The slender alms of one poor smile, in vain ! 
 
 How often, tir'd with the fastidious light, 
 
 Have my faint lips implor'd the shades of night ! 
 
 How often have my nightly torments pray'd 
 
 For ling'ring twilight, glutted with the shade ! 
 
 Day worse than night, night worse than day, appears 
 
 In fears I spend my nights, my days in tears : 
 
 I moan unpitied, groan without relief; 
 
 There is nor end nor measure of my grief. 
 
 The smiling flow'r salutes the day ; it grows 
 
 Untouch'd with care ; it neither spins nor sows : 
 
 O that my tedious life were, like this flow'r, 
 
 Or freed from grief, or finish'd with an hour \ 
 
 Why was I born ? why was I born a man ? 
 
 And why proportion'd by so large a span ? 
 
 Or why suspended from the common lot. 
 
 And, being born to die, why die I not? 
 
BOO Iv UT. 
 
 EMBLEl^L 16. 
 
 Pf aim. 31.10. 
 
 .Iji' /)ti\',v ti//t/ ,Vt'f//>/,f i/f ('t'n,\'ftiiif f/rf<y'ft/'c 
 '' /i/tftn/iv ,s-/i7f , ///re /'/tf //■ /tiz/n/tf . 
 
BOOK III. EMBLEMS. 23 
 
 Ah me ! why is my sorrow-wasted breath 
 
 Denied the easy privilege of death ? 
 
 The branded slave, that tugs the weary oar, 
 
 Obtains the sabbath of a welcome shore : 
 
 His ransom'd stripes are heal'd ; his native soil 
 
 Sweetens the mem'ry of his foreign toil : 
 
 But ah ! my sorrows are not half so blest ; 
 
 My labour finds no point, my pains no rest : 
 
 I barter sighs for tears, and tears for groans, 
 
 Still vainly rolling Sisyphsean stones. 
 
 Thou just observer of our flying hours, 
 
 That, with thy adamantine fangs, devours 
 
 The brazen mon'ments of renowned kings. 
 
 Doth thy glass stand ? or be thy moulting wings 
 
 Unapt to fly ? if not, why dost thou spare 
 
 A willing breast ; a breast that stands so fair ; 
 
 A dying breast, that hath but only breath 
 
 To beg a wound, and strength to crave a death ; 
 
 O that the pleased Heav'ns would once dissolve 
 
 These fleshly fetters, that so fast involve 
 
 My hamper'd soul ! then should my soul be blest 
 
 From all these ills, and wrap her thoughts in rest : 
 
 Till then my days are months, my months are years ; 
 
 My years are ages, to be spent in tears : 
 
 My grief 's entail'd upon my wasteful breath 
 
 Which no recov'ry can cut off, but death. 
 
 Breath drown in cottages, puff'd out in thrones, 
 
 Begins, continues, and concludes, in groans. 
 
24 EMBLEMS. BOOK III. 
 
 Innocent, de Vilitate Condit. Humanos. 
 
 O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears, that 
 I may bewail the miserable ingress of man's condi- 
 tion ; the sinful progress in man's conversation ; the 
 damnable egress in man's dissolution ? I will consider 
 with tears, whereof man was made, what man doth, and 
 and what man is to do Alas ! he is formed of earth, 
 conceived in sin, born to punishment : he doth evil 
 things, which are not lawful ; he doth filthy things, 
 which are not decent ; he doth vain things, which are 
 not expedient. 
 
 Epig, 15. 
 
 My heart, thy life's a debt by bound, which bears 
 A secret date ; the use* is groans and tears : 
 Plead not ; usurious Nature will have all. 
 As well the int'rest as the principal. 
 
 * Use, interest. 
 
/j/// HI ///( /Vr.vA t!/K //'I / A(Hi- 7 fi/iil , 
 '/'( /i(f//i(/ /<■ Si/f : n/nc/t (•({/t/nti/c.y /tnJfi/ii/ 
 
BOOK THE FOURTH 
 
 E M B L E xM I. 
 
 Rom. vii. 23. 
 
 I see another law in my members, warring against the 
 law of my mind, and bringing me into captivity to 
 the law of sin. 
 
 HOW my will is hurried to and fro, 
 
 And how my unresolv'd resolves do vary ! 
 
 1 know not where to fix ; sometimes I go 
 
 This way, then that, and then the quite contrary : 
 
 I like, dislike ; lament for what I could not : 
 
 I do, undo ; yet still do what I should not ; 
 
 And, at the self- same instant, will the thing I would 
 
 not. 
 
 Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts opprest 
 
 With th' earth-bred winds of my prodigious will ; 
 Thus am I hourly tost from east to west 
 Upon the rolling streams of good and ill : 
 Thus am I driv'n upon these slipp'ry suds, 
 From real ills to false apparent goods ; 
 My life 's a troubled sea, compos'd of ebbs and floods. 
 
26 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 The curious penman, having trimm'd his page 
 
 With the dead language of his dabbled quill. 
 Lets fall a heedless drop ; then, in a rage, 
 Cashiers the fruits of his unlucky skill : 
 E'en so my pregnant soul in th' infant bud 
 Of her best thoughts show'rs down a coal-black 
 flood 
 Of unadvised ills, and cancels all her good. 
 
 Sometimes a sudden flash of sacred heat 
 
 Warms my chill soul, and sets my thoughts in frame ; 
 But soon that fire is shoulder'd from her seat 
 By lustful Cupid's much inferior flame. 
 I feel two flames, and yet no flame entire ; 
 Thus are the mongrel thoughts of mixt desire 
 Consum'd between that heav'nly and this earthly fire. 
 
 Sometimes my trash-disdaining thoughts outpass 
 
 The common period of terrene* conceit; 
 O then methinks I scorn the thing I was. 
 Whilst I stand ravish'd at my new estate : 
 But when th' Icarian wings of my desire 
 Feel but the warmth of their own native fire, 
 
 then they melt and plunge within their wonted mire. 
 
 1 know the nature of my wav'ring mind ; 
 
 I know the frailty of my fleshly will : 
 My passion's eagle-ey'd; my judgment blind ; 
 I know what's good, but yet make choice of ill. 
 When th' ostrich wings of my desire shall be 
 So dull, they cannot mount the least degree, 
 Yet grant my soul desire but of desiring Thee. 
 
 * Terrene, earthly. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 27 
 
 S. Bern. Med. ix. 
 
 My heart is a vain heart, a vagabond and instable 
 heart ; while it is led by its own judgment, and, 
 wanting divine counsel, cannot subsist in itself; and 
 whilst it divers ways seeketh rest, findeth none, but 
 remaineth miserable through labour and void of peace: 
 it agreeth not with itself, it dissenteth from itself: it 
 altereth resolutions, changeth the judgment, frameth 
 new thoughts, puUeth down the old, and buildeth 
 them up again : it willeth and willeth not, and never 
 remaineth in the same state. 
 
 S. August de Verb. Apost. 
 
 When it would, it cannot ; because, when it might, 
 it would not : therefore by an evil will man lost his 
 good power. 
 
 Epig, 1. 
 
 My soul, how are thy thoughts disturb'd, confin'd, 
 Enlarg'd betwixt thy members and thy mind ! 
 Fix here or there ; thy doubt-depending cause 
 Can ne'er except one verdict 'twixt two laws. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM II . 
 
 Psalm cxix. 5. 
 O that my ways were directed to keep thy statutes ! 
 
 Thus I, the object of the world's disdain, 
 
 With pilgrim pace, surround the weary earth : 
 
 I only relish what the world counts vain ; 
 
 Her mirth's my grief ; her sullen grief my mirth ; 
 Her light my darkness ; and her truth my error; 
 
 Her freedom is my gaol ; and her delight my terror. 
 
 Fond earth ! proportion not my seeming love 
 
 To my long stay; let not thy thoughts deceive 
 thee; 
 Thou art my prison, and my home's above ; 
 My life's a preparation but to leave thee : 
 
 Like one that seeks a door I walk about thee : 
 With thee I cannot live ; I cannot live without thee. f 
 
 The world's a lab'rinth, whose anfractuous* ways 
 Are all compos 'd of rubs and crook'd meanders : 
 No resting here ; he 's hurried back that stays 
 A thought ; and he that goes unguided, wanders : 
 Her way is dark ; her path untrod, unev'n ; 
 So hard's the way from earth ; so hard's the way to 
 Heav'n. 
 
 * Anfractuous, iatricate. 
 
BOOK r^ 
 
 KZfS^BLElVi: 2. 
 
 Plahix lit) . 5 . 
 C //i((f Ntv irit/{t/rt/t(/ .y/r//.v /lui/A/ i///ti/i f/ ('(■ 
 
BOOK iv EMBLEMS. 29 
 
 This gyring* lab'rinth is betrench d about 
 
 On either hand with streams of sulph'rous fire, 
 
 Streams closely sliding, erring in and out, 
 But seeming pleasant to the fond descrier ; 
 
 AVhere, if his footsteps trust their own invention, 
 
 He falls without redress, and sinks beyond dimension. 
 
 Where shall I seek a guide ? where shall I meet 
 Some lucky hand to lead my trembling paces ? 
 
 What trusty lantern will direct my feet 
 
 To 'scape the danger of these dang'rous places ? 
 What hopes have I to pass without a guide 
 
 Where one gets safely through, a thousand fall beside. 
 
 An unrequested star did gently slide 
 
 Before the wise men to a greater light : 
 Backsliding Isr'el found a double guide ; 
 A pillar, and a cloud ; by day by night: 
 Yet in my desp'rate dangers, which be far 
 More great than theirs, I have nor pillar, cloud, nor 
 star. 
 
 O that the pinions of a cliping* dove 
 
 Would cut my passage through the empty oil' ; 
 Mine eyes being seal'd, how would I mount above 
 The reach of danger and forgotten care ! 
 
 My backward eyes should ne'er commit that 
 fault, 
 Whose lasting guilt should build a monument of salt. 
 
 Great God, that art the flowing spring of light, 
 Enrich mine eyes with thy refulgent ray ! 
 
 Thou art my path ; direct my steps aright ; 
 I have no other light, no other way : 
 
 I'll trust my God, and him alonexpursue ; 
 
 His law shall be my path, his heav'nly light my clue 
 
 * Gyring, full of turnings. 
 * Clipping, swift, flying. 
 yoL. II. E 
 
30 EMBLEMS. DOOK iv. 
 
 S, August. Soliloq. Cap. iv. 
 
 O Lord, who art the Light, the "Way, the Truth, 
 the Life ; in whom there is no darkness, error, vanity, 
 nor death : the Light, without which there is dark- 
 ness ; the Way, without which there is wandering ; 
 the Truth, without which there is error; the Life, 
 without which there is death : say. Lord, ' Let there 
 be light,' and I shall see light, and eschew darkness ; 
 I shall see the way and avoid wandering ; I 
 shall see the truth, and shun error; I shall see life, 
 and escape death : illuminate, O illuminate my blind 
 soul, which sitteth in darkness and the shadow of 
 death ; and direct my feet in the way of peace. 
 
 Epig. 2. 
 
 Pilorim, trudge on : what makes thy soul complain, 
 Crowns thy complaint ; the way to rest is pain : 
 The road to resolution lies by doubt ; 
 The next way home's the farthest way about. 
 
El>IBLEl.r 3 
 
 77fN.\\ /( / ;n( ,s'fy7/ fi/ff'rif7 ///T 7ir(fi7/7\' 7rr(i(/r , 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM III. 
 
 Psalm xvii. 5. 
 
 Hold up my goings in thy paths, that my footsteps slip 
 not. 
 
 Whene'er the Old Exchange of profit rings 
 
 Her silver saints-bell of uncertain gains, 
 My merchant soul can stretch "both legs and wings : 
 How I can run, and take unwearied pains ! 
 The charms of profit are so strong, that I, 
 Who wanted legs to go, find wings to fly. 
 
 If time-beguiling Pleasure but advance 
 
 Her lustful trump, and blow her bold alarms, 
 O how my sportful soul can frisk and dance, 
 And hug that siren in her twined arms I 
 The sprightly voice of sinew-strength'ning 
 
 Pleasure 
 Can lend my bed-rid soul both legs and leisure. 
 
32 EMBLEMS. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 If blazing Honour chance to fill my veins 
 
 With flatt'ring warmth, and flash of courtly fire. 
 My soul can take a pleasure in her pains ; 
 My lofty strutting steps disdain to tire : 
 My antic knees can turn upon the hinges 
 Of compliment, and screw a thousand cringes. 
 
 But when I come to thee, my God, that art 
 The royal mine of everlasting treasure, 
 The real honour of my better part, 
 
 And living fountain of eternal pleasure, 
 
 How nerveless are my limbs ! how far and slow ! 
 I have nor wings to fly, nor legs to go. 
 
 So when the streams of swift-foot Rhine convey 
 
 Her upland riches to the Belgic shore, 
 The idle vessel slides the wat'ry lay. 
 
 Without the blast or tug of wind or oar : 
 Her slip'ry keel divides the silver foam 
 With ease ; so facile is the way from home ! 
 
 But when the home-bound vessel turns her sails 
 
 Against the breast of the resisting stream, 
 O then she slugs ; nor sail nor oar^ prevails; 
 The stream is sturdy, and her tide's extreme : 
 Each stroke is loss, and ev'ry tug is vain; 
 A boat-length's purchase is a league of pain. 
 
 Great All in All, that art my rest my home. 
 
 My way is tedious, and my steps are slow ; 
 Reach forth thy helpful hand, or bid me come ; 
 I am thy child, O teach thy child to go : 
 Conjoin thy sweet commands to my desire, 
 And I will venture, though I fall or tire. 
 
ROOK IT. EMBLEMS. 33 
 
 S. August. Ser. xv. de Verb. Apost. 
 
 Be always displeased at what thou art, if thou dc- 
 sirest to attain to what thou are not : for where thou 
 hast pleased thyself, there thou abidest. But if thou 
 sayest, I have enough, thou perishest, always add, 
 always walk, always proceed ; neither stand still, nor 
 go back, nor deviate ; he that standeth still proceedeth 
 not ; he goeth back that continueth not ; he deviateth 
 that rev olteth ; he goeth better that creepeth in his 
 way than he that runneth out of his way. 
 
 Epief. 3. 
 
 Fear not, my soul, to lose for want of cunning ; 
 Weep not ; Heav'n's is not always got by running : 
 Thy thoughts are swift, although thy legs be slow ; 
 True love will creep, not having strength to go. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM IV. 
 
 Psalm cxix. 120. 
 
 My flesh tremhleth for fear of thee ; and I am afraid 
 of thy judgrnenis. 
 
 Let others boast of luck, and go their ways 
 
 With their fair game ; know, Vengeance seldom plays 
 
 To be too forward, but doth wisely frame 
 
 Her backward tables for an after-game : 
 
 She gives the leave to venture many a blot ;* 
 
 And for her own advantage, hits thee not : 
 
 But when her pointed tables are made fair, 
 
 That she be ready for thee, then beware ; 
 
 Then, if a necessary blot be set. 
 
 She hits thee ; wins the game ; perchance the set : 
 
 If prosp'rous chances make thy casting high^ 
 
 Be wisely temp'rate ; cast a serious eye 
 
 On after-dangers, and keep back thy game ; 
 
 Too forward seed-times make thy harvest lame. 
 
 If left hand fortune give thee left-hand chances, 
 
 Be wisely patient; let no envious glances 
 
 Repine to view thy gamester's heap so fair ; 
 
 The hindmost hound takes oft the doubling hare. 
 
 * Blot, a term at backgammon. 
 
>. o o K rv^ 
 
 ETVTB LETV: 4. 
 
 iMVxIm aic) .120. 
 
 T//ii.i- fr,////r,f. /x ///f.v, i/v'ftt/t/f'// S/f//fs ,/f'.v//Ary?/. 
 J[vF/i\\/i /r'i'.y //•/■////■//////, ff/tf/ /nv Sf'/f/.i' iifi-iUi/ . 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. Q5 
 
 The world's great dice are false ; sometimes they go 
 
 Extremely high, sometimes extremely low : 
 
 Of all her gamesters, he that plays the least 
 
 Lives most at ease, plays most secure, and best : 
 
 The way to win is to play fair, and swear 
 
 Thyself a servant to the crown of fear : 
 
 Fear is the Primer* of a gamester's skill ; 
 
 Who fears not bad, stands most unarm'd to ill. 
 
 The ill that 's wisely fear'd is half withstood ; 
 
 And fear of bad is the best foil to good. 
 
 True fear's th' elixir which in days of old, 
 
 Turn'd leaden crosses into crowns of gold : 
 
 The world's the tables ; stakes, eternal life ; 
 
 The gamester's Heav'n and I ; unequal strife ! 
 
 My fortunes are my dice, whereby I frame 
 
 My indisposed life : this life's the game ; 
 
 My sins are several blots ; the lookers-on 
 
 Are angels ; and in death the game is done. 
 
 Lord, I 'm a bungler, and my game doth grow 
 
 Still more and mere unshap'd ; my dice run low : 
 
 The stakes are great ; my careless blots are many ; 
 
 And yet thou passest by, and hitt'st not any : 
 
 Thou art too strong ; and I have none to guide me 
 
 With the least jog ; the lookers-on deride me : 
 
 It is a conquest undeserving Thee, 
 
 To win a stake from such a worm as me : 
 
 I have no more to lose ; if we perse ver,f 
 
 'Tis lost ; and, that once lost, I 'm lost for ever. 
 
 Lord, wink at faults, and be not too severe. 
 
 And I will play my game with greater fear. 
 
 O give me Fear, ere Fear has past her date : 
 
 Whose blot being hit, then fears; fear's then too late. 
 
 * Primer, the first book for cbildren. 
 t Persever, put, by poetic license, for pertetere. 
 
36 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV 
 
 S. Bern. Ser. liv. in Cant. 
 
 There is nothing so effectual to obtain grace, to 
 retain grace, and to regain grace, as always to be found 
 before God not overwise, but to fear : happy art 
 thou if thy heart replenished with three fears ; a fear 
 for received grace, a greater fear for lost grace, a. 
 greater fear to recover grace. 
 
 S. August, super Psalm, 
 
 Present fear begetteth eternal security : fear God, 
 which is above all, and no need to fear man at all. 
 
 Epig. 4. 
 
 Lord, shall we grumble when thy flames do scourge 
 
 us ? 
 Our sins breathe fire ; that fire returns to purge up. 
 Lord, what an alchymist art thou, whose skill 
 Transmutes to perfect good from perfect ill ! 
 
Prahn. 
 
 (' (ttr/t (iirtt^- ttitftr /:'\'\\- , //f/Zr/^/Ar I'd/// 
 Jmf //'{/////'/f ////f l//r /r f/nf/' ti/^r /'rn/// . 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM V. 
 
 Psalm cxix. 37. 
 Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity. 
 
 How like to threads of flax. 
 That touch the flame, are my inflam'd desires ! 
 
 How like to yielding wax 
 My soul dissolves before these wanton fires ! 
 The fire but touch'd, the flame but felt, 
 Like flax, I burn ; like wax, I melt. 
 
 O how this flesh doth draw 
 My fetter'd soul to that deceitful fire ! 
 
 And how th' eternal law 
 Is baffled by the law of my desire ! 
 How truly bad, how seeming good, 
 Are all the la\Vs of flesh and blood I 
 
 O wretched state of men, 
 The height of whose ambition is to borrow 
 
 What must be paid again, 
 With griping inter'st of the next day's sorrow ! 
 How wild his thoughts ! how apt to range ! 
 How apt to vary ! apt to change 1 
 
38 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 How intricate and nice 
 Is man's perplexed way to man's desire ! 
 
 Sometimes upon the ice 
 He slips, and sometimes falls into the fire ; 
 His progress is extreme and bold, 
 Or very hot, or very cold. 
 
 The common food he doth 
 Sustain his soul-tormenting thoughts withal, 
 
 Is honey in his mouth 
 To-night ; and in his heart, to-morrow, gall : 
 'Tis oftentimes, within an hour, 
 Both very sweet and very sour. 
 
 If sweet Corinna smile, 
 A heav'n of joy breaks down into his heart : 
 
 Corinna frowns awhile ? 
 Hell's torments are but copies of his smart : 
 Within a lustful heart doth dwell 
 A seeming Heav'n, a very hell. 
 
 Thus worthless, vain, and void 
 Of comfort, are the fruits of earth's employment, 
 
 Which, ere they be enjoy'd, 
 Distract us, and destroy us in th' enjoyment ! 
 These be the pleasures that are priz'd, 
 When Heaven's cheap penn'worth stands despis'd. 
 
 Lord, quench these hasty flashes, 
 Which dart as lightning from the thund'ring skies, 
 
 And ev'ry minute dashes 
 Against the wanton windows of mine eyes ! 
 Lord, close the casement, whilst I stand 
 Behind the curtain of thy hand ! 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 39 
 
 S. August. Soliloq. Cap, iv. 
 
 O thou Son, that illuminateth both heaven and 
 earth ! woe be unto those eyes which do not behold 
 thee : woe be unto those blind eyes which cannot be- 
 hold thee : woe be unto those which turn away their 
 eyes that they will not behold thee : woe be unto those 
 that turn not away their eyes that they may behold 
 vanity. 
 
 S, Chrys. Sup. Mat. xix. 
 
 What is the evil woman but the enemy of friend- 
 ship, an unavoidable pain, a necessary mischief, a 
 natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic 
 danger, a delectable inconvenience, and the nature of 
 evil painted over with the colour of good ? 
 
 ,Epig. 5. 
 
 *Tis vain, great God, to close mine eyes from ill, 
 When I resolve to keep the old man still : 
 My rambling heart must cov'nant first with Thee, 
 Or none can pass betwixt mine eye and me. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEM VI. 
 
 Esther vii. 3. 
 
 If I have found favour in thy sight, and ii if please the 
 king, lei my life be given me at my petition. 
 
 Thou art the great Assureus, whose commmand 
 
 Doth stretch from pole to pole ; the world's thy land : 
 
 Rebellious Vashti's the corrupted will. 
 
 Which, being call'd, refuseth to fulfil 
 
 Thy just command: Esther, whose tears condole 
 
 The razed city, 's the regen'rate soul ; 
 
 A captive maid, whom thou wilt please to grace 
 
 With nuptial honours in stout Vashti's place: 
 
 Her kinsman, whose unbended knee did thwart 
 
 Proud Haman's glory, is the fleshly part : 
 
 The sober Eunuch, that recall'd to mind 
 
 The new-built gibbet (Haman had divin'd 
 
 For his own ruin), fifty cubits high. 
 
 Is lustful thought controlling Chastity : 
 
 Insulting Haman is that fleshly lust, 
 
 Whose red-hot fury, for a season, must 
 
 Triumph in pride, and study how to tread 
 
 On Mordecai, till royal Esther plead. 
 
Eftlier.7.3- 
 T/'t/t f/fv Sf)//tt //if Hi' fine Nii^our /h/t/n7 , 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 43 
 
 Great king, thy sent-for Vashti will not come ; 
 O let the oil o' th' bless'd Virgin s womb 
 Cleanse my poor Esther ; look, O look upon her 
 With gracious eyes ; and let thy beams of honour 
 So scour her captive stains, that she may prove 
 A holy object of thy heav'nly love : 
 Anoint her with the spikenard of thy graces, 
 Then try the sweetness of her chaste embraces : 
 Make her the partner of thy nuptial bed, 
 And set thy royal crown upon her head : 
 If then ambitious Haman chance to spend 
 His spleen on Mordecai, that scorns to bend 
 The wilful stiffness of his stubborn knee, 
 Or basely crouch to any lord but thee ; 
 If weeping Esther should prefer a groan 
 Before the high tribunal of thy throne, 
 Hold forth thy golden sceptre, and afford 
 The gentle audience of a gracious lord ; 
 And let thy royal Esther be possest 
 Of haff thy kingdom, at her dear request : 
 Curb lustful Haman, him that would disgrace. 
 Nay, ravish, thy fair queen before thy face : 
 And, as proud Haman was himself insnar'd 
 On that self gibbet that himself prepar'd. 
 So nail my lust, both punishment and guilt, 
 On that dear cross that mine own lusts have built. 
 
42 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 S. August, in Ep. 
 
 O holy Spirit, always inspire me with holy works. 
 Constrain me, that I may do; counsel me, that I 
 may love thee ; confirm me that I may hold thee ; 
 conserve me, that I may not lose thee. 
 
 S. August. Sup. Joan, 
 
 The spirit rusteth where the flesh resteth : for, as 
 the flesh is nourished with sweet things, the spirit is 
 refreshed with sour. 
 
 Ibidem. 
 
 Wouldest thou that thy flesh obey thy spirit ? then 
 let thy spirit obey thy God. Thou must be govern- 
 ed, that thou mayest govern. 
 
 Bpig. 6. 
 
 Of mere' and justice is thy kingdom built ; 
 
 This plagues my sin, and that removes my guilt : 
 
 Whene'er I sue, Assuerus- like, decline* 
 
 Thy sceptre ; Lord, say. Half my kingdom's thine. 
 
 Decline, as here used, signifies to bow dowa. 
 
BOOK r^. 
 
 ETVTB LEM: 7 
 
 Cartt , 7.J1. 
 
 <hu/ /astr I'ftc/i .fU'ertJ^c/it/Zif^ f/ie Srtt.fctt vte/tlf. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM VII. 
 
 Canticles vii. 11. 
 
 Comet my beloved, let us go forth into the field; let 
 us lodge in the villages. 
 
 CHRIST. SOUL. 
 
 Chr. Come, come, my dear, and let us both retire, 
 
 And whiff the dainties of the fragrant fields ; 
 Where warbling Phil'mel and the shrill-mouth'd 
 choir 
 Chant forth their raptures ; where the turtle builds 
 Her lonely nest ; and where the new-born brier 
 Breathes forth the sweetness that her April yields : 
 Come, come, my lovely fair, and let us try 
 These rural delicates ; where thou and I 
 May melt in private flames, and fear no stander-by. 
 
 Souh My heart's eternal joy, in lieu of whom 
 
 The earth's a blast, and all the world's a bubble ; 
 Our city mansion is the fairer home, 
 
 But country sweets are tang'd* with lesser trouble : 
 
 Let's try them both, and choose the better ; come ; 
 
 A change in pleasure makes the pleasure double ; 
 
 On thy commands depends my go or tarry ; 
 
 I'll stir with Martha, or I'll stay with Mary : 
 
 Our hearts are firmly fix'd, altho' our pleasures vary. 
 
 * Tany'd, tasted 
 
44 EMBLEMS. 
 
 BOOK IT. 
 
 Chr. Our country mansion (situate on high), 
 With various objects, still renews delight : 
 Her arched roofs of unstain'd ivory: 
 
 Her walls of fiery- sparkling chrysolite : 
 Her pavement is of hardest porphyry ; 
 
 Her spacious windows are all glaz'd with bright 
 And flaming carbuncles ; no need require 
 Titan's faint rays, or Vulcan's feeble fire ; 
 And ev'ry gate's a pearl ; and ev'ry pearl entire. 
 
 Soul. Fool that I was ! how were my thoughts de- 
 ceived ! 
 How falsely was my fond conceit possest I 
 I took it for an hermitage, but pav'd 
 
 And daub'd with neighb'ring dirt, and thatch'd at 
 best 
 Alas ! I ne'er expected more, nor crav'd ; 
 A turtle hop'd but for a turtle's nest : 
 
 Come, come, my dear, and let no idle stay 
 Neglect th' advantage of a headstrong day : 
 How pleasure grates, that feels the curb of dull delay ! 
 
 Chr. Come, then, my joy ; let our divided paces 
 
 Conduct us to our fairest territory : 
 O there we'll twine our souls in sweet embraces ; 
 
 Soul. And in thine arms I'll tell my passion story : 
 
 Chr. O there I'll crown thy head with all my graces ; 
 
 Soul. And all those graces shall reflect thy glory '- 
 
 Chr. O there I'll feed thee with celestial manna ; 
 111 be thy Elkanah. 
 
 Soul. And I thy Hannah, 
 
 Chr. I'll sound my trump of joy. 
 
 Soul. And I'll resound Hosannah. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 EMfiLSMS. 45 
 
 S, Bern. 
 
 O blessed contemplation ! the death of vices, and 
 the life of virtues I thee the law and prophets ad- 
 mire : who ever attained perfection, if not by thee ? 
 O blessed solitude, the magazine of celestial treasure ! 
 by thee things earthly and transitory are changed 
 into heavenly and eternal. 
 
 S. Bern, in Ep, 
 
 Happy is that house, and blessed is that congre- 
 gation, where Matha still complaineth of Mary. 
 
 Epig^ 7. 
 
 Mechanic soul, thou must not onlv do 
 With Martha, but with Mary ponder too : 
 Happy's that house where these fair sisters vary ; 
 But most when Matha's reconcil'd to Marv. 
 
BOOK IV. — EMBLEM YIIL 
 
 Canticles i. 3, 4. 
 
 Draw me ; ive will run after thee, because of the 
 savour of thy good ointments. 
 
 Thus, like a lump of the corrupted mass, 
 
 I lie secure ; long lost, before I was : 
 
 And like a block, beneath whose burden lies 
 That undiscovered worm that never dies, 
 
 I have no will to rouse, I have no pow'r to rise. 
 
 Can stinking Lazarus compound, or strive 
 With death's entangling fetters, and revive ? 
 
 Or can the water- buried axe implore 
 
 A hind to raise it, or itself restore, 
 And from her sandy deeps approach the dry-foot 
 shore ? 
 
 So hard's the task for sinful flesh and blood 
 To lend the smallest step to what is good : 
 
 My God ! 1 cannot move the least degree ; 
 
 Ah ! if but only those that active be, 
 None should thy glory see, none should thy glory 
 see. 
 
 But if the potter please t' inform* the clay. 
 Or some strong hand remove the block away, 
 Their lowly fortunes soon are mounted higher ; 
 That proves a vessel, which, before, w^as mire ; 
 And this, being hewn, may serve for better use than 
 fire. 
 
 * Inform, i. e. new-make. 
 
B o o I. r\ 
 
 I i! 
 
 i^MBLEM &, 
 
 Cant. 1.3. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 47 
 
 And if that life-restoring voice command 
 Dead Laz'rus forth ; or that Prophet's hand 
 
 Should charm the sullen waters, and begin 
 
 To beckon, or to dart a stick but in. 
 Dead Laz'rus must revive, and th' axe must float 
 again. 
 
 Lord, as I am, I have no pow*r at all 
 
 To hear thy voice, or echo to thy call : 
 
 The gloomy clouds of mine own guilt benight me 
 Thy glorious beams, not dainty sweets, invite me 
 
 They neither can direct, nor these at all delight me. 
 
 See how my sin-bemangled body lies. 
 Not having pow'r to will, nor will to rise ! 
 Shine home upon thy creature, and inspire 
 My lifeless will with thy regen'rate fire ; 
 The first degree to do, is only to desire. 
 
 Give me the pow'r to will, the will to do ; 
 
 O raise me up, and I will strive to go : 
 Draw me, O draw me with thy treble twist. 
 That have no pow'r but merely to resist , 
 
 O lend me strength to do, and then command thy list. 
 
 My soul's a clock, whose wheels (for want of use 
 And winding up, being subject to th' abuse 
 
 Of eating rust) want vigour to fulfil 
 
 Her twelve hours' task, and show her Maker's skill. 
 But idly sleeps unmov'd, and standeth vainly still. 
 
 Great God! it is thy work, and therefore good : 
 If thou be pleas'd to cleanse it with thy blood, 
 And wind it up with thy soul-moving keys, 
 Her busy wheels shall serve thee all her days ; 
 Her hand shall point thy pow'r, her hammer strike 
 thy praise. 
 
48 EMBLEMS. BOOK 1Y. 
 
 S, Bern, Ser, xxi. i.i Cant, 
 
 Let us run : let us run, but in the savour of thy 
 ointments, not in the confidence of our merits, nor 
 in the greatness of our strength : we trust to run, but 
 in the multitude of thy mercies ; for though we run, 
 and are willing, it is not in him that willeth, nor in 
 him that runneth, but in God that sheweth mercy. 
 O let thy mercy return, and we will run : thou, like 
 a giant, runnest by thine own power ; we, unless thy 
 ointment breathe upon us, cannot run. 
 
 Epig. 8. 
 
 Look not, my watch, being once repaired, to stand 
 
 Expecting motion from thy Maker^s hand : 
 
 He'as wound ihee up, and cleans'd thy clogs with 
 
 blood ; 
 If now thy wheels stand still, thou art not good. 
 
i^ O c; X' T^/; 
 
 E^M.BLEIVL 9, 
 
 "CSEtTgrr: 
 
 ■ /^/njt n/v/r/n/ I'mfuif.virti't/ Heart nniU /irrVi 
 '-'. r T/tee, t/i^ .vfi'fc/uejs r^'a St.ster,'*'j:t'/f' / 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM IX 
 
 Canticles viii. 1. 
 
 O that thou wert as my brother^ that sucked the breasts 
 of my mother ! when I should find thee without, I 
 would kiss thee. 
 
 Come, come my blessed Infant, and immure thee 
 
 Within the temple of my sacred arms ; 
 Secure mine arms ; mine arms shall, then, secure thee 
 From Herod's fury, or the high priest's harms : 
 Or if thy danger'd life sustain a loss, 
 My folded arms shall turn thy dying cross. 
 
 But, ah ! what savage tyrant can behold 
 
 The beauty of so sweet a face as this is, 
 And not himself be by himself controll'd. 
 And change his fury to a thousand kisses ? 
 
 One smile of thine is worth more mines af 
 
 treasure 
 Than there be myriads in the days of Csesar. 
 
 O, had the tetrach, as he knew thy birth, 
 
 So known thy stock, he had not sought to paddle 
 
 In thy dear blood ; but, prostrate on the earth. 
 Had veil'd his crown before thy royal cradle, 
 
60 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 And laid the sceptre of his glory down, 
 And begg'd a heav'nly for an earthly crown. 
 
 Illustrious Babe ! how is thy handmaid grac'd 
 With a rich armful ! how dost thou decline 
 
 Thy majesty, that wert so late embrac'd 
 
 In thy great Father's arms, and now in mine ! 
 How humbly .gracious art thou, to refresh 
 
 Me with thy spirit, and assume my flesh I 
 
 But must the treason of a traitor's hail* 
 
 Abuse the sweetnesss of these ruby lijis ? 
 Shall marble-hearted Cruelty assail 
 
 These alabaster sides with notted whips ? 
 And must these smiling roses entertain 
 The blows of scorn, and flirts of base disdain ? 
 
 Ah ! must these dainty little sprigs,f that twine 
 
 So fast about my neck, be pierc'd and torn 
 "With ragged nails ? and must these brows resign 
 Their crown of glory for a crown of thorn ? 
 Ah ! must this blessed Infant taste the pain 
 Of death's injurious pangs ; nay, worse, be 
 slain ? 
 
 Sweet Babe ! at what dear rates do wretched I 
 
 Commit a sin ! Lord, ev'ry sin's a dart ; 
 And ev'ry trespass lets a jav'lin fly ; 
 
 And ev'ry jav'lin wounds thy bleeding heart : 
 Pardon, sweet Babe, what I have done amiss ; 
 And seal that granted pardon with a kiss. 
 
 * Hail, salutation. t Springs, arms. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS 51 
 
 BonavenU Soliloq. Cap. i. 
 
 O sweet Jesu, I knew not that thy kisses were so 
 sweet, nor thy society so delectable, nor thy attrac- 
 tion so virtuous : for when I love thee, I am clean ; 
 when I touch thee, I am chaste ; when I receive thee, 
 I am a virgin : O most sweet Jesu, thy embraces 
 defile not, but cleanse ; thy attraction polluteth not, 
 but sanctifieth : O Jesu, the fountain of universal 
 sweetness, pardon me that I believed so late that so 
 much sweetness is in thine embraces. 
 
 Epig. 9. 
 
 My burden's greatest : let not Atlas boast : 
 Impartial reader, judge which bears the most : 
 He bears but Heav'n ; my folded arms sustain 
 Heav'n's Maker, whom Heav'n's Heav'n cannot 
 contain. 
 
BOOK IV.— ExMBLEM X. 
 
 • Canticles iir. I. 
 
 jBy night on my bed I sought him whom my soul 
 loveth ; I sought him, hut I found him not. 
 
 The learned Cynic, having lost the way 
 
 To honest men, did, in the height of day. 
 
 By taper-light, divide his steps about 
 
 The peopled streets, to find this dainty out ; 
 
 But failed : the Cynic search'd not where he ought 
 
 The thing he sought for was not where he sought. 
 
 The wise men's task seem'd harder to be done ; 
 
 The wise men did by star-light seek the Son, 
 
 And found : the wise men search'd it where they 
 
 ought; 
 The thing they hop'd to find was where they sought. 
 One seeks his wishes where he should ; but then 
 Perchance he seeks not as he should, nor when. 
 Another searches when he should ; but there 
 He fails ; not seeking as he should, nor where. 
 Whose soul desires the good it wants, and would 
 Obtain, must seek where, as, and when he should. 
 How often have my wild affections led 
 My wasted soul to this my widow'd bed, 
 
K r 
 
 ^:l IvI 10 
 
 Cant -.3.] 
 
 / vcftif/if mi' Afi't'/' r/i rm' /jf(/ /i' /Viif// 1 . 
 

BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 53 
 
 To seek my lover whom my soul desires ! 
 
 (I speak net, Cupid, of thy wanton fires ; 
 
 Thy fires are all but dying sparks to mine ; 
 
 My flames are full of Heav'n, and all divine.) 
 
 How often have I sought this bed by night, 
 
 To find that greaterby this lesser light ! 
 
 How oft have my unwitness'd groans lamented 
 
 Thy dearest absence ! ah, how often vented 
 
 The bitter tempests of despairing breath, 
 
 And toss'd my soul upon the waves of death ! 
 
 How often has my melting heart made choice 
 
 Of silent tears (tears louder than a voice), 
 
 To plead my grief, and woo thy absent ear ! 
 
 And yet thou wilt not come, thou wilt not hear. 
 
 O, is thy wanted love become so cold ? 
 
 Or do mine eyes not seek thee where they should ? 
 
 Why do I seek thee, if thou art not here ? 
 
 Or find thee not, if thou art every where ? 
 
 I see my error ; 'tis not strange I could not 
 
 Find out my love ; I sought him where I should not. 
 
 Thou art not found on downy beds of ease ; 
 
 Alas ! thy music strikes on harder keys ; 
 
 Nor art thou found by that false feeble light 
 
 Of Nature's candle : our Egyptian night 
 
 Is more than common darkness ; nor can we 
 
 Expect a morning but what breaks from thee. 
 
 Well may my empty bed bewail thy loss. 
 
 When thou art lodg'd upon thy shameful cross : 
 
 If thou refuse to share a bed with me, 
 
 We'll never part, I'll share a cross with thee. 
 
 VOL. II. G 
 
54 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Anselm. in Protolog, Cap. i. 
 
 Lord, if thou art not present, where shall I seek 
 thee absent ? if every where, why do I not see thee 
 present ? Thou dwellest in light inaccessible ; and 
 where is that inaccessible light ? or how shall I have 
 access to light inaccessible ? I beseech thee, Lord, 
 teach me to seek thee, and shew thyself to the seeker: 
 because I can neither seek thee, unless thou teach 
 me ; nor find thee, unless thou shew thyself to me : 
 let me seek thee in desiring thee, and desire thee in 
 seeking thee : let me find thee in loving thee, and 
 love thee in finding thee. 
 
 Bpig. 10. 
 
 Where shouldst thou seek for rest but in thy bed ? 
 But now thy Rest is gone, thy Rest is fled : 
 Tis vain to seek him there : my soul, be wise : 
 Go ask thy sins ; they '11 tell thee where he lies. 
 
C aiit:3 2. 
 /'rr //(■ II ■//.<>• nrt nmonq t/ie /'fiswTrmri . 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XL 
 
 Canticles iii. 2. 
 
 / will rise and go about the city^ and will seefc him 
 whom my soul loveth : I sought him, hut I found 
 him not, 
 
 O HOW my disappointed soul's perplext ! 
 
 How restless thoughts swarm in my troubled 
 breast ! 
 How vainly pleased with hopes, then crossly vexed 
 
 With fears ! and how, betwixt them both, distrest ! 
 What place is left unransack'd ? Oh ! where next 
 Shall I go seek the Author of my rest? 
 
 Of what bless'd angel shall my lips enquire 
 The undiscover'd way to that entire 
 And everlasting solace of my heart's desire ? 
 
 Look how the stricken hart, that, wounded, flies 
 O'er hills and dales, and seeks the lower grounds 
 
 For running streams, the whilst his weeping eyes 
 Beg silent mercy from the foll'wing hounds. 
 
 At length, embost,* he droops, drops down, and lies 
 Beneath the burden of his bleeding wounds : 
 
 * Embost, foaming at the mouth. 
 
56 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 E'en so my gasping soul, dissolv'd in tears. 
 Doth search for thee, my God, whose deafen'd 
 ears 
 Leave me th' unransom'd pris'ner to my panic fears. 
 
 Where have my busy eyes not pry'd ? O where. 
 Of whom hath not my threadbare tongue de- 
 manded 1 
 I search'd this glorious city ; he's not here : 
 
 I sought the country ; she stands empty-handed : 
 I search'd the court ; he is a stranger there : 
 
 I ask'd the land, he's shipp'd : the sea, he's 
 landed : 
 I climVd the air, my thoughts began t' aspire ; 
 But, ah ! the wings of my too bold desire, 
 Soaring too near the sun, were sing'd with sacred fire 
 
 I mov'd the merchant's ear ; alas ! but he 
 
 Knew neither what I said, nor what to say : 
 I ask'd the lawyer ; he demands a fee, 
 
 And then demurs me with a vain delay : 
 I ask'd the schoolman : his advice was free, 
 But scor'd me out too intricate a way : 
 I ask'd the watchman (best of all the four), 
 Whose gentle answer could resolve no more. 
 But that he lately left him at the temple-door. 
 
 Thus having sought and made my great inquest 
 In ev'ry place, and search'd in ev'ry ear, 
 
 I threw me on my bed ; but, ah ! my rest 
 Was poison''d with th' extremes of grief and fear : 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. ' 57 
 
 Where, looking down into my troubled breast. 
 The magazine of wounds, I found him there : 
 Let others hunt, and show their sportful art ; 
 I wish to catch the hare before she start, 
 
 As poachers use to do ; Heav'n's form* 's a troubled 
 heart. 
 
 S. Amhros. Lih, iii. de Virg, 
 Christ is not in the market ; not in the streets : for 
 Christ is peace ; in the market are strifes ; Christ is 
 justice; in the market is iniquity; Christ is a la- 
 bourer ; in the market is idleness : Christ is charity ; 
 in the market is slander : Christ is faith ; in the mark- 
 et is fraud. Let us not therefore seek Christ where 
 we cannot find Christ, 
 
 S» ffieron. Ser, ix. Bp, xxii. ad Eusioch, 
 
 Jesus is jealous : he will not have' thy face seen : 
 let foolish virgins ramble abroad ; seek thou thy love 
 at home. 
 
 Epig, 11. 
 "What, lost thy love ? will neither bed nor board 
 Receive him ? not by tears to be implor'd ? 
 It is the ship that moves, and not the coast ; 
 I fear, I fear, my soul, 'tis thou art lost. 
 
 * Fwriif (a hunting term), where the hare sit-s. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XIL 
 
 Canticles iii. 3; 4. 
 
 Saw ye him whom my soul loVeth 9 It ivas hut a little 
 that I passed from them, hut I found him tvhom my 
 soul loveth : I held him, and would not let him go. 
 
 What secret corner, what unwonted way, 
 
 Has 'scap'd the ransack of my rambling thought ? , 
 The fox by night, nor the dull owl by day. 
 
 Have never search'd those places I have sought. 
 Whilst thy lamented absence taught my breast 
 The ready road to grief, without request ; 
 My day had neither comfort, nor my night had rest. 
 
 How hath my unregarded language vented 
 
 The sad tautologies of lavish passion ! 
 How often have I languish'd unlamented ! 
 
 How oft have I comjDlain'd without compassion ! 
 I ask'd the city-watch ; but some denied me 
 The common street, whilst others would mis- 
 guide me ; [me. 
 Some would debar me ;• some divert me ; some deride 
 
 Mark how the widow'd turtle, having lost 
 The faithful partner of her loyal heart, 
 Stretches her feeble wings from coast to coast, 
 Haunts ev'ry path, thinks ev'ry shade doth part 
 Her absent love and her ; at length, unsped. 
 She re-betakes her to her lonely bed, 
 And there bewails her everlasting widow-head. 
 
B O O K IT 
 
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 (ant: 5. 4. 
 
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31^ 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS- 59 
 
 So, when my soul had progress'd every place 
 That love and dear aflfection could contrive, 
 I threw me on my couch, resolv'd t' embrace 
 A death for him, in whom I ceas'd to live : 
 But there injurious Hymen did present 
 His landscape joys ; my pickled eyes did vent 
 Full streams of briny tears, tears never to be spent. 
 
 Whilst thus my sorrow-wasting soul was feeding 
 
 Upon the rad'cal humour of her thought. 
 E'en whilst mine eyes were blind, and heart was 
 bleeding, 
 He that was sought unfound, was found unsought : 
 As if the sun should dart his orb of light 
 Into the secrets of the black-brow'd night, 
 E'en so appear'd my love, my soul, my soul's delight. 
 
 O how mine eyes, now ravish'd at the sight 
 
 Of my bright Sun, shot flames of equal fire ! 
 Ah ! how my soul dissolved with ov'r-delight, 
 To re-enjoy the crown of chaste desire ! 
 How sov'reign joy depos'd and dispossest 
 Rebellious grief ! and how my ravish'd breast — 
 But who can press* those heights that cannot be 
 exprest } 
 
 O how these arms, these greedy arms, did twine, 
 And strongly twist, about his yielding waist ! 
 The sappy branches of the Thespian vine 
 Ne'er cling'd their less-beloved elm so fast : 
 
 Boast not thy flames, blind boy, nor feather'd 
 
 shot ; 
 Let Hymen's easy snarlesf be quite forgot : 
 Time cannot quench our fires, nor death dissolve our 
 knot. 
 
 * Press ; put, by poetic license, for express. 
 t Snarle, a tie, or knot, which it is difficult to disentangle. 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Orig. Horn. x. in Divers, 
 
 O most holy Lord, and sweetest master, how good 
 art thou to those that are of upright heart, and hum- 
 ble spirit ! O how blessed are they that seek thee 
 with a simple heart ! how happy that trust in thee ! 
 It is a most certain truth that thou lovest all that 
 love thee, and never forsakest those that trust in 
 thee : for, behold thy love simply sought thee, and 
 undoubtedly found thee : she trusted in thee, and is 
 not forsaken of thee, but hath obtained more by thee 
 than she expceted from thee. 
 
 Bede in Cap. iii. Cant. 
 
 The longer I was in finding whom I sought, the 
 more earnestly I held him, being found. 
 
 Epig. 12. 
 
 What, found him out ? Let strong embraces bind 
 
 him; 
 He'll fly, perchance, where tears can never find him : 
 New sins will lose what old repentance gains : 
 AVisdom not only gets, but, got, retains. 
 

BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XIIL 
 
 Psalm Ixxiii. 28. 
 
 It is good for me to draw near to God: I have put 
 my trust in the Lord God. 
 
 Where is that good, which wise rneii please to call 
 The chiefest? doth there any such befall 
 Within man's reach ? or is there such a good at all ? 
 
 If such there be, it neither must expire, 
 Nor change : than which, there can be nothing 
 high r : 
 Such good must be the utter point of man's desire. 
 
 It is the mark, to which all hearts must tend. 
 Can be desired for no other end 
 Than for itself; on which all other goods depend. 
 
 What may this exc'llence be ? doth it subsist 
 A real essence, clouded in the mist 
 Of curious art, or clear to ev'ry eye that list ? 
 
 Or is't a tart idea, to procure 
 An edge, and keep the practic* soul in ure,f 
 Like that dear chymic dust,;]: or puzzling quadra- 
 ture ?§ 
 
 * Practic ; used, by poetic license, for practical : i. e. not theo- 
 retical. 
 
 t Ure ; exercise. 
 
 X Chymic dust ; i. e. the philosopher's stone, supposed to turn 
 all metals to gold. 
 
 § Puzzling quadrature : i. e. squaring' the circle. 
 
62 EMBLEMS. BOOK. IV. 
 
 "Where shall I seek'this good? where shall I find 
 
 This cath'lic pleasure, whose extremes may bind 
 
 My thoughts, and fill the gulph of my insatiate mind ? 
 
 Lies it in treasure } in full heaps untold ? 
 Doth gouty Mammons griping hand infold 
 This secret saint in sacred shrines of sovereign gold ? 
 
 No, no ; she lies not there : Wealth often sours 
 In keeping ; makes us hers, in seeming ours : 
 She slides from Heav'n indeed, but not in Danae's 
 show'rs. 
 
 Lives she in honour ? No ; the royal crown 
 Builds up a creature, and then batters down : 
 Kings raise thee with a smile, and raze thee with a 
 frown. 
 
 In pleasure ? No ; pleasure begins in rage ; 
 Acts the fool's part on earth's uncertain stage ; 
 Begins the play in youth, and epilogues in age. 
 
 These, these are bastard goods ; the best of these 
 Torment the soul with pleasing it ; and please. 
 Like water gulp'd in fevers, with deceitful ease. 
 
 Earth's flatt'ring dainties are but sweet distresses ; 
 Mole-hills perform the mountains she professes : 
 Alas ! can Earth confer more good than Earth pos- 
 sesses ? 
 
 Mount, mount, my soul, and let my thoughts 
 
 cashier 
 Earth's vain delights, and make thy full career 
 At Heav'n's eternal joys : stop, stop thy courser there. 
 
 There shall thy soul possess uncareful treasure ; 
 
 There shalt thou swim in never-fading pleasure ; 
 
 And blaze in honour far above the frowns of Csesar. 
 
 Lord, if my hope dare let her anchor fall 
 On thee, the chiefest good, no need to call 
 For earth's inferior trash ; Thou, Thou, art All in 
 All. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 63 
 
 S. August. Soliloq. Cap. xiii. 
 
 I follow this thing, I pursue that, but I am filled 
 with nothing. But when I found thee, who art that 
 immutable, undivided, and only good, in myself, what 
 I obtained, I wanted not ; for what I obtained not, I 
 wanted not : for what I obtained not, I grieved not ; 
 with what I was possessed, my whole desire was 
 satisfied. 
 
 S. Bern. Ser. ix. Sup. Beati qui. hahent, ^c. 
 
 Let others pretend merit; let him brag of the 
 burden of the day ; let him boast of his sabbath-fasts, 
 and let him glory that he is not as other men : but 
 for me, it is good to cleave unto the Lord, and to put 
 my trust in my Lord God. 
 
 Epig. 13. 
 
 Let Boreas' blasts and Neptune's waves be join'd, 
 Thy ^olus commands the waves, the wind : 
 Fear not the rocks, or world's imperious waves ; 
 Thou climb'st a Rock, my soul ! a Rock that saves. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XIV 
 
 Canticles ii. 3. 
 
 I sat down under his shadow ivith great delight^ and 
 his fruit was sweet to my taste. 
 
 Look how the sheep, whose rambling steps do stray 
 
 From the safe blessing of her shepherd's eyes, 
 Eftsoon* becomes the unprotected prey 
 
 To the wing'd squadron of beleag'ring flies ; 
 
 "Where, swelter'd with the scorching beams of day, 
 
 She frisks from bush to brake, and wildly flies 
 
 From her own self, ev'n of herself afraid ; 
 
 She shrouds her troubled brows in ev'ry glade, 
 
 And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade. 
 
 Ev'n so my wand'ring soul, that hath digress'd 
 From her great Shepherd, is the hourly prey 
 Of all my sins ; these vultures in my breast 
 
 Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day : 
 I hunt from place to place, but find no rest ; 
 I know not where to go, nor where to stay ; 
 
 The eye of Vengeance burns, her flames invade 
 My swelt'ring soul: my soul hath oft assay 'd ; 
 But she can find no shroud, but she can feel no 
 shade. 
 
 * Eftsoon, soon afterwards. 
 
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BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 65 
 
 I sought the shades of mirth, to wear away 
 
 My slow-pac'd hours of soul-consuming grief : 
 1 search'd the shades of sleep, to ease my day 
 
 Of griping sorrows with a night's reprief : 
 I sought the shades of death ; thought, there, t' allay 
 My final torments with a full relief: 
 
 But mirth, nor sleep, nor death, can hide my hours 
 In the false shades of their deceitful bow'rs; 
 The first distracts, the next disturbs, the last de- 
 vours. 
 
 Where shall I turn ? to whom shall I apply me ? 
 Are there no streams where a faint soul may 
 wade ? 
 Thy Godhead, Jesus, are the flames that fry me ; 
 
 Hath thy all-glorious Deity ne'er a shade, 
 Where I may sit, and Vengeance never eye me ; 
 Where I might sit refresh'd, or unafraid ? 
 Is there no comfort ? is there no refection ?* 
 Is there no cover that will give protection 
 T' a fainting soul, the subject of thy wrath's reflec- 
 tion ? 
 
 Look up, my soul ! advance the lowly stature 
 Of thy sad thoughts ; advance thy humble eye : 
 
 See, here's a shadow found ; the human nature 
 Is made th' umbrella to the Deity, 
 
 To catch the sunbeams of thy just Creator ; 
 Beneath this covert thou may'st safely lie : 
 
 * Refection, refreshment. 
 VOL. 11. H 
 
66 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 Permit thine eyes to climb this fruithful tree, 
 As quick Zaccheus did, and thou shalt see 
 A cloud of dying flesh betwixt those beams and thee. 
 
 Guil. in Cap. ii. Cant. 
 
 Who can endure the fierce rays of the Sun of 
 Justice ? who shall not be consumed by his beams? 
 Therefore the Sun of Justice took flesh, that, through 
 the conjunction of that Sun and this human body, a 
 shadow may be made. 
 
 S. August. Med. Cap. xxxvii. 
 
 Lord, let my soul flee from the scorching thoughts 
 of the world under the covert of thy wings, that, 
 being refreshed by the moderation of thy shadow, 
 she may sing merrily, fn peace will I lay me down 
 and rest. 
 
 Epig. 14. 
 Ah ! treach'rous soul, would not thy pleasure give 
 That Lord, which made thee living, leave to live ? 
 See what thy sins have done ; thy sins have made 
 The Sun of Glory now become thy shade. 
 
BOOK IV. 
 
 EIVLBLEIVL 15 
 
 Pfakix 137.-1.. 
 
BOOK IV.— EMBLEM XV. 
 
 Psalm cxxxvii. 4. 
 How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange Land 
 
 Urge me no more : this airy mirth belongs 
 
 To better times : these times are not for songs. 
 
 The sprightly twang of the melodious lute 
 
 Agrees not with my voice : and both unsuit 
 
 My untun*d fortunes :* the affected measure 
 
 Of strains that are constrain'd afford no pleasure. 
 
 Music's the child of Mirth : where griefs assail 
 
 The troubled soul, both voice and fingers fail : 
 
 Let such as revel out their lavish days 
 
 In honourable riot ; that can raise 
 
 Dejected hearts, and conjure up a sprite 
 
 Of madness by the magic of delight ; 
 
 Let those of Cupid's hospital, that lie 
 
 Impatient patients to a smiling eye ; 
 
 That cannot rest until vain hope beguile 
 
 Their flatter'd torments with a wanton smile ; 
 
 Let such redeem their peace, and salve the wrongs 
 
 Of froward Fortune with their frolic songs : 
 
 My grief, my grief's too great for smiling eyes 
 
 To cure, or counter-charms to exercise. 
 
 The raven's dismal croaks, the midnight howls ; 
 
 Of empty wolves, mix'd with the screech of owls : 
 
 The nine sad knells of a dull passing bell. 
 
 With the loud language of a nightly knell, 
 
 * Untuned fortunes; i.e. sorrowful circumstances. 
 
68 EMBLEMS. BOOK IV. 
 
 And horrid outcries of revenged crimes, 
 
 Join'd in a medley's music for these times : 
 
 These are no times to touch the merry string 
 
 Of Orpheus ; no, these are no times to sing. 
 
 Can hide-bound pris'ners, that have spent their soub 
 
 And famished bodies in the noisome holes 
 
 Of hell-black dungeons, apt* their rougher throats 
 
 Grown hoarse with begging alms, to warble notes ? 
 
 Can the sad pilgrim, that hath lost his way 
 
 In the vast desert, there condemn'd a prey 
 
 To the wild subject, or his salvagef king. 
 
 Rouse up his palsy-smitten sp'rits, and sing ? 
 
 Can I, a pilgrim, and a pris ner too, 
 
 Alas ! where I am neither known, nor know 
 
 Aught but my torments, an unransom'd stranger 
 
 In this strange climate, in a land of danger — 
 
 O, can my voice be pleasant, or my hand, 
 
 Thus made a pris'ner in a foreign land ? 
 
 How can my music relish in your ears, 
 
 That cannot speak for sobs, nor sing for tears ? 
 
 Ah I if my voice could, Opheus-like, unspel 
 
 My poor Eurydice, my soul, from hell 
 
 Of earth's misconstrued Heav'n, O then my breast 
 
 Should warble airs, whose raphsodies should feast 
 
 The ears of seraphims, and entertain 
 
 Heav'n's highest Deity with their lofty strain ; 
 
 A strain well drench'd in the true Thespian well : 
 
 Till then, earth's semiquaver. Mirth, farewell. 
 
 * Apt, adapt, or fit. t Salvage, savage, wild. 
 
BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 69 
 
 S August. Med. Cap. xxxiii. 
 
 O infinitely happy are those heavenly virtues 
 which are able to praise thee in holiness and purity, 
 with excessive sweetness and unutterable exultation ! 
 From thence they praise thee, from whence they 
 rejoice, because they continually see for what they 
 rejoice, for what they praise thee : but we, pressed 
 down with this burden of flesh, far removed from thy 
 countenance in this pilgrimage, and blown up with 
 worldly vanities, cannot worthily praise thee; we 
 praise thee by faith, not face to face ; but those 
 angelical spirits praise thee face to face, and not by 
 faith. 
 
 Bpig. 15. 
 
 Did I refuse to sing ? Said I these times 
 Were not for songs, nor music for these climes ? 
 It was my error : are not groans and tears 
 Harmonious raptures in th' Almighty's ears ? 
 
BOOK THE FIFTH. 
 
 EMBLEM I. 
 
 Canticles v. 8. 
 
 / charge you, O daughters of Jerusalem, if ye find my 
 beloved f that ye tell him, that I am sick o/" love. 
 
 You, holy virgins, that so oft surround 
 
 The city's sapphire walls ; whose snowy feet 
 Measure the pearly paths of sacred ground. 
 
 And trace the new Jerus'lem's jasper street; 
 Ah ! you whose care-forsaken hearts are crown'd 
 With your best wishes : that enjoy the sweet 
 Of all your hopes ; if e'er you chance to spy 
 My absent love, O tell him that I lie 
 Deep wounded with the flame that furnac'd from his 
 eye. 
 
 I charge you virgins, as you hope to hear 
 
 The heav'nly music of your lover's voice; 
 I charge you, by the solemn faith ye bear 
 
 To plighted vows, and to the loyal choice 
 Of your affections ; or, if aught more dear 
 
 You hold ; by Hymen ; by your marriage joys ; 
 I charge you tell him that a flaming dart, 
 Shot from his eye, hath pierc'd my bleeding 
 heart. 
 And I am sick of love and languish in my smart. 
 
B O O K ^r 
 
 F.M13T:/h:M 1 
 
 Cant 58 
 
 7r// //n /i' /, Iff/ / ff/// v/rA f/'Af'if . 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 71 
 
 Tell him, O tell him, how my panting breast 
 
 Is scorch'd with flames, and how my soul is pin*d;* 
 Tell him, O tell him, how I lie opprest 
 
 "With the full torments of a troubled mind ; 
 O tell him, tell him, that he loves in jest, 
 But I in earnest ; tell him he's unkind ; 
 But if a discontented frown appears 
 Upon his angry brow, accost his ears 
 With soft and fewer words, and act the rest in tears- 
 
 O tell him that his cruelties deprive 
 
 My soul of peace, while peace in vain she seeks ; 
 Tell him those damask roses, that did strive 
 
 With white, both fade upon my sallow cheeks ; 
 Tell hira no token doth proclaim I live, 
 
 But tears, and sighs, and sobs, and sudden shrieks; 
 
 Thus if your piercing words should chance to 
 bore 
 
 His heark'ning hear, and move a sight, give o'er 
 
 To speak ; and tell him, tell him that I could no more. 
 
 If your elegious* breath should hap to rouse 
 
 A happy tear, close harb'ring in his eye. 
 
 Then urge liis plighted faith, the sacred vows. 
 
 Which neither I can break, nor He deny : 
 
 Bewail the torments of his loyal spouse, 
 
 That for his sake would make a sport to die : 
 
 O blessed virgins, how my passion tires 
 
 Beneath the burden of her fond desires ! 
 
 Heav'n never shot such flames, earth never felt such 
 fires I 
 
 * Pin'd, consumed, wasted with grief. 
 
 * Elegious, plaintive, or complaining, 
 
72 EMBLEMS. BOOK. V. 
 
 S. August. Med. Cap. xl. 
 
 What shall I say ? what shall I do ? wither shall 
 I go ? where shall I seek him ? or when shall I find 
 him \ whom shall I ask ? who will tell my beloved 
 that I am sick of love ? 
 
 GulieL in Cap. v. Cant. 
 
 I live, but not I ; it is my beloved that liveth in 
 me : I love myself, not with my own love, but with 
 the love of my beloved, that loveth me ; I love not 
 myself in myself, but myself in him, and him in 
 me. 
 
 Epig, 1. 
 Grieve not, my soul, nor let thy love wax faint : 
 Weep'st thou to lose the cause of thy complaint ? 
 He'll come ; Love ne'er was bound to time nor 
 
 laws ; 
 Till then thy tears complain without a cause. 
 
(rut //If f/n F/i'ii-'r.v. //i<- J'riti,'.v , t/w (/'7'////</ 7Ji'/i / . 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM 11. 
 
 Canticles ii. 5. 
 
 Slay me with Jlowers,^ comfort me with apples: for 
 I am sick of love, 
 
 O TYRANT Love ! how doth thy sov'reign pow'r 
 
 Subject poor souls to thy imperious thrall ! 
 They say thy cup 's compos'd of sweet and sour ; 
 
 They say thy diet 's honey, mix'd with gall : 
 How comes it then to pass these lips of ourf 
 Still trade in bitter : taste no sweet at all ? 
 O tyrant Love ! shall our perpetual toil 
 Ne'er find a sabbath, to refresh awhile 
 Our drooping souls ? Art thou all frowns, and ne'er 
 a smile ? 
 
 Ye blessed maids of honour, that frequent 
 
 The royal courts of our renown'd Jehove,:[: 
 With flow'rs restore my spirits faint and spent ; 
 
 fetch me apples from Love's fruitful grove. 
 To cool my palate, and renew my scent, 
 
 For I am sick, for I am sick of love : 
 
 These will revive my dry, and wasted pow'rs, 
 And they will sweeten my unsav'ry hours ; 
 Refresh me then with fruit, and comfort me with 
 flow'rs. 
 
 * Flowers : the word, in our modern Bibles, is flagons. 
 t Our : put for ours, to accommodate the rhyme. 
 
 1 Jehove: Jehovah. 
 
74 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 O bring me apples to assuage that fire, 
 
 Which, ^tna-like, in-flames my flaming breast ; 
 Nor is it ev'ry apple I desire, 
 
 Nor that which pleases ev'ry palate best : 
 'Tis not the lasting deuzan* I require : 
 
 Nor yet the red-cheek'd queening I request ; 
 Nor that which first beshrew'df the name of 
 
 wife, 
 Nor that whose beauty caus'd the golden strife ; 
 No, no, bring me an apple from the tree of life. 
 
 Virgins, tuck up your silken laps, and fill ye 
 With the fair wealth of Flora's magazine ; 
 The purple vi'let, and the pale-fac'd lily ; 
 
 The pansy, and the organ columbine ; 
 The flow'ring thyme, the gilt-bowl diaffodilly ; 
 The lowly pink, the lofty eglantine ; 
 
 The blushing rose, the queen of flow'rs and 
 
 best 
 Of Flora's beauty ; but, above the rest, 
 Let Jesse's* sov'reign Flow'r perfume my qualming 
 breast. 
 
 Haste, virgins, haste ; for I lie weak and faint 
 
 Beneath the pangs of love : why stand ye mute. 
 As if your silence neither car'd to grant, 
 
 Nor yet your language to deny, my suit ? 
 No key can lock the door of my complaint. 
 
 Until I smell this flow'r, or taste that fruit. 
 
 Go, virgins, seek this tree, and search that 
 
 bow'r ; 
 O how my soul shall bless that happy hour. 
 That brings to me such fruit, that brings me such 
 a flow'r ! 
 
 * Deuzan^ queening .- names of different sorts of apples. 
 t Beshrew'd : cursed. 
 
 * Jtsse's; jessamine, alluding to Christ, the Son of Jesse, 
 
BOOK V EMBLEMS. 75 
 
 Gisten. in Cap. ii. Cant. Expos. 3. 
 
 O happy sickness, where the infirmity is not to 
 death, but to life, that God may be glorified by it ! 
 O happy fever, that proceedeth not from a consuming, 
 but a calcining, fire ! O happy distemper, wherein 
 the soul relisheth no earthly things, but only savour- 
 eth divine nourishment ! 
 
 S. Bern. Serm. li. in Cant. 
 
 By flowers, understand faith ; by fruit, good works. 
 As the flower or blossom is before the fruit, so is 
 faith before good works : so neither is the fruit without 
 the flower, nor good works without faith. 
 
 Epig. 2. 
 
 Why apples, O my soul ? can they remove 
 The pains of grief, or ease the flames of lov? 
 It was that fruit which gave the first offence ; 
 That sent him hither ; that remov'd him hence. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM III 
 
 Canticles II. 16. 
 
 My beloved is mine, and I am his : he feedeth among 
 the lilies. 
 
 E'en like two little bank- dividing brooks, 
 
 That wash the pebbles with their wanton streams, 
 
 And, having rang'd and search'd a thousand nooks, 
 
 Meet both at length in silver-breasted Thames, 
 
 Where in a greater current they conjoin : 
 
 So I my best beloved's am, so he is mine. 
 
 E'en so we met ; and after long pursuit, 
 E'en so we join'd ; we both became entire : 
 
 No need for either to renew a suit. 
 
 For I was flax, and he was flames of fire. 
 Our firm united souls did more than twine : 
 
 So I my best beloved's am ; so he is mine. 
 
 If all those glitt'ring monarchs, that command 
 
 The servile quarters of this earthly ball. 
 Should tender, in exchange, their shares of land, 
 ■ I would not change my fortunes from them all : 
 Their wealth is but a counter to my coin ; 
 The world's but theirs ; but my beloved 's mine. 
 
B O O K "V. 
 
 .E im: b l . H m: 3 . 
 
 Cant : -j.iG. 
 
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 / iini /tt.v iif/i , tiftf/ /fii' /h/t'i't,/,'i- f/if/ii' 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 77 
 
 Nay, more ; if the fair Thespian ladies all 
 Should heap together their diviner treasure, 
 
 That treasure should be deem'd a price too small 
 To buy a minute's lease of half my pleasure : 
 Tis not the sacred wealth of all the Nine 
 
 Can buy my heart from him, or his from being mine. 
 
 Nor time, nor place, nor chance, nor death, can bow 
 My least desires unto the least remove : 
 
 He's firmly mine by oath : I his by vow : 
 He's mine by faith ; and I am his by love : 
 He is mine by water ; I am his by wine ; 
 
 Thus I my best beloved's am ; thus he is mine. 
 
 He is my altar ; I his holy place : 
 
 I am his guest ; and he my living food : 
 
 I'm his by penitence ; he is mine by grace : 
 I'm his by purchase ; he mine by blood : 
 He's my supporting helm ; and I his vine : 
 
 Thus I my best beloved's am ; thus he is mine. 
 
 He gives me wealth ; I give him all my vows : 
 
 I give him songs ; he gives me length of days : 
 
 With wreaths of grace he crowns my conqu'ring 
 brows ; 
 
 And I his temples with a crown of praise. 
 
 Which he accepts as an e'erlasting sign 
 
 That I my best beloved's am ; that he is mine. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S. August. Manu. Cap. xxiv. 
 
 O my soul, stamped with the image of thy God, love 
 him of whom thou art so much beloved: bend to 
 him that boweth to thee, seek him that seeketh thee : 
 love thy lover, by whose love thou art prevented, 
 being the cause of thy love : be careful with those 
 that are careful, want with those that want : be clean 
 with the clean, and holy with the holy : choose this 
 friend above all friends, who, when all are taken 
 away, remaineth only faithful to thee : in the day of 
 thy burial, when all leave thee, he will not deceive 
 thee, but defend thee from the roaring lions prepared 
 for their prey. 
 
 Epig. 3. 
 
 Sing Hymen, to my soul. What ? lost and found, 
 "Welcom'd, espous'd, enjoy'd so soon, and crown'd ! 
 He did but climb the cross, and then came down 
 To th" gates of hell ; triumph'd, and fetch'd a crown. 
 
Can-t.j.xo. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM lY. 
 
 Canticles vii. 10. 
 
 I am my beloved's, and his desire is toioard me» 
 
 Like to the arctic needle, that doth guide 
 
 The wand'ring shade by his magnetic pow'r, 
 And leaves his silken gnomon* to decide 
 The question of the controverted hour, 
 First frantics up and down, from side to side, 
 And restless beats his crystall'd iv'ry case 
 With vain impatience ; jetsf from place to place, 
 And seeks the bosom of his frozen bride ; 
 
 At length he slacks his motion, and doth rest 
 His trembling point at his bright pole's beloved 
 breast. 
 
 E'en so my soul, being hurried here and there 
 By ev'ry object that presents delight, 
 
 Fain would be settled, but she knows not where ; 
 She likes at morning what she loaths at night : 
 
 She bows to Honour ; then she lends an ear 
 
 To that sweet swan-like voice of dying Pleasure, 
 Then tumbles in the scatter'd heaps of treasure ; 
 
 Now flatter'd with false hope ; now foil'd with fear : 
 Thus, finding all the world's delights to be 
 
 But empty toys, good God, she points alone to thee. 
 
 • Gnomon : the stile-pen or cock of a dial, the shadow whereof 
 points out the hours. 
 
 t J^ts : hops as a bird. 
 
80 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 But hath the virtu 'd steel* a pow'r to move ? 
 Or can the untouch'd needle point alike ? 
 
 Or can my v/and'nng thoughts forbear to rove, 
 Unguided by the virtue of thy Spir't ? 
 
 O hath my leaden soul the heart t' improve 
 Her wasted talent, and, unrais'd, aspire 
 In this sad moulting time of her desire ? 
 
 Not first belov'd, have 1 the pow'r to love ? 
 
 I cannot stir but as thou please to move me, 
 
 Nor can my heart return thee love, until thou love me. 
 
 The still commandress of the silent night 
 
 Borrows her beams from her bright brother's eye : 
 
 His fair aspect fills her sharp horns with light ; 
 If he withdraw, her flames are quench'd and die : 
 
 E'en so the beams of thy enlight'ning Sp'rit, 
 Infus'd and shot into my dark desire. 
 Inflame my thoughts, and fill my soul with fire. 
 
 That I am ravish'd with a new delight ; 
 
 But if thou shroud thy face my glory fades. 
 
 And I remain a nothing, all compos'd of shades. 
 
 Eternal God ! O thou that only art 
 
 The sacred fountain of eternal light, 
 And blessed loadstone of my better part, 
 
 O thou, my heart's desire, my soul's delight, 
 Reflect upon my soul, and touch my heart, 
 
 And then my heart shall prize no good above 
 
 thee ; 
 
 And then my soul shall know thee ; knowing, 
 
 love thee 
 
 And then my trembling thoughts shall never start 
 
 From thy commands, or swerve the least degree. 
 
 Or once presume to move, but as they move in thee. 
 
 * Virtu d steel: th.e mariner's compass^. 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 81 
 
 S. August. Med. Cap. xxv. 
 
 If man can love man with so entire affection, that 
 the one can scarce brook the other's absence ; if a 
 bride can be joined to her bridegroom with so great 
 an ardency of mind, that for the extremity of love 
 she can enjoy no rest, not suffering his absence with- 
 out great anxiety ; with what affection, with what 
 fervency, ought the soul, whom thou hast espoused 
 by faith and compassion, to love thee, her true God, 
 and glorious Bridegroom ! 
 
 Epig. 4. 
 
 My soul, thy love is dear : 'twas thought a good 
 And easy penn' worth of thy Saviour's blood : 
 But be not proud : all matters rightly scann'd, 
 'Twas over-bought : 'twas sold at second-hand. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM V 
 
 Canticles v. 6. 
 
 My soul melted whilst my beloved spake. 
 
 Lord, has the feeble voice of flesh and blood 
 
 The pow'r to work thine ears into a flood 
 
 Of melted mercy ? or the strength t' unlock 
 
 The gates of Heav'n, and to dissolve a rock 
 
 Of marble clouds into a morning show'r ? 
 
 Or hath the breath of whining dust the pow'r 
 
 To stop or snatch a falling thunderbolt 
 
 From thy fierce hand, and make thy hand revolt 
 
 From resolute confusion, and, instead 
 
 Of vials, pour full blessings on our head ? 
 
 Or shall the wants of famish'd ravens cry, 
 
 And move thy mercy to a quick supply ? 
 
 Or shall the silent suits of drooping flow'rs 
 
 Woo thee for drops, and be refresh'd with show'rs ? 
 
 Alas ! what marvel then, great God, what wonder 
 
 If thy hell-rousing voice, that splits in sunder 
 
 The brazen portals of eternal death ; 
 
 What wonder if that life-restoring breath, 
 
 Which dragg'd me from th' eternal shades of night. 
 
 Should melt my ravish'd soul with o'er-delight ? 
 
 O can my frozen gutters choose but run, 
 
 That feel the warmth of such a glorious Sun ? 
 
JD'/trc/ nu' J/rttrf /r/f//r fnv BcloT^'t/ ,\ni'Ar 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. bo 
 
 Methinks his language like a flaming arrow, 
 
 Doth pierce my bones, and melts their wounded 
 
 marrow. 
 Thy flames, O Cupid, (though the joyful heart 
 Feels neither tang of grief, nor fears the smart 
 Of jealous doubts, but drunk with full desires,) 
 Are torments, weigh'd with these celestial fires ; 
 Pleasures that ravish in so high a measure. 
 That, O, I languish in excess of pleasure ! 
 What ravish'd heart, that feels these melting joys. 
 Would not despise and loathe the treach'rous toys 
 Of dunghill earth ? what soul would not be proud 
 Of wry-mouth'd scorns, the worst that flesh and blood 
 Had rancour to devise ? who would not bear 
 The world's derision with a thankful ear ? 
 What palate would refuse full bowls of spite 
 To gain a minute's taste of such delight ? 
 Great spring of light, in whom there is no shade 
 But what my interposed sins have made ; 
 Whose marrow-melting fires admit no screen 
 But what my own rebellions put between 
 Their precious flames and my obdurate ear : 
 Disperse this plague-distilling cloud, and clear 
 My mungy soul into a glorious day : 
 Transplant this screen, remove this bar away; 
 Then, then my fluent soul shall feed the fires 
 Of thy sweet voice, and my dissolv'd desires 
 Shall turn a sov'reign balsam, to make whole 
 Those wounds my sins afflicted on thy soul. 
 
84 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S. August, Soliloq. Cap. xxxiv. 
 
 What fire is this that so warmeth my heart ? 
 what light is this that so enlighteneth my soul ? O 
 fire, that always burneth, and never goeth out, 
 kindle me ! O light, which ever shineth, and art 
 never darkened, illuminate me ! O that I had my 
 heat from thee, most holy fire ! How sweetly dost 
 thou burn ! how secretly dost thou shine ! how 
 desiderably* dost thou inflame me ! 
 
 5'. Bonavent. Stim. Amoris. Cap. viii. 
 
 It maketh God man, and man God ; things tem- 
 poral, eternal ; mortal, immortal : it maketh an enemy 
 a friend, a servant a son, vile things glorious, cold 
 hearts fiery, and hard things liquid. 
 
 Epig. 5. 
 
 My soul, thy gold is true, but fall of dross : 
 Thy Saviour's breadth refines thee with some loss : 
 His gentle furnace makes thee pure as true ; 
 Thou must be melted ere th' art cast anew. 
 
 * Desiderably, desiredly. 
 
O O K V. 
 
 E M: B L E l/L 6 
 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM VL 
 
 Psalm Ixxiii. 25. 
 
 Whom have I in heaven hut thee 9 and there is none 
 upon earth that I desire beside thee. 
 
 I LOVE (and have some cause to love) the Earth ; 
 
 She is my maker's creature, therefore good : 
 She is my mother, for she gave me birth ; 
 
 She is my tender nurse ; she gives me food ; 
 But what's a creature, Lord, compar'd with thee ? 
 Or what's my mother, or my nurse, to me ? 
 
 I love the Air ; her dainty sweets refresh 
 
 My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me ; 
 
 Her shrill-mouth'd choir sustain me with their flesh. 
 And with their Polyphonian* notes delight me : 
 
 But what's the Air, or all the sweets that she 
 
 Can bless my soul withal, compared to thee ? 
 
 I love thee Sea, she is my fellow creature. 
 
 My careful purveyor ; she provides me store : 
 
 She walls me round ; she makes my diet greater : 
 She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore : 
 
 But, Lord of Oceans, when compar'd with thee. 
 
 What is the Ocean, or her wealth, to me ? 
 
 * Polyphonian ; many-sounding. 
 
66 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 To Heav'n's high city I direct my journey, 
 
 Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye ; 
 Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney. 
 Transcends the chrystal pavement of the sky ; 
 But what is Heav'n, great God, compar'd to thee 
 Without thy presence Heav'n's no Heav'n to me. 
 
 Without thy presence, earth gives no refection :* 
 Without thy presence sea affords no treasure ; 
 
 Without thy presence air's a rank infection ; 
 
 Without thy presence Heav'n itself 's no pleasure ; 
 
 If not possess'd, if not enjoy'd in thee, 
 
 What's earth, or sea, or air, or heav'n, to me ? 
 
 The highest honours that the world can boast 
 Are subjects far too low for my desire ; 
 
 The brightest beams of glory are (at most) 
 But dying sparkles of thy living fire : 
 
 The proudest flames that earth can kindle be 
 
 But nightly glow-worms, if compar'd to thee. 
 
 Without thy presence wealth are bags of cares ; 
 
 Wisdom but folly ; joy, disquiet sadness : 
 Friendship is treason, and delights are snares : 
 
 Pleasure's but pain, and mirth but pleasing mad- 
 ness : 
 Without thee, Lord, things be not what they be ; 
 Nor have they being, when compar'd with thee. 
 
 In having all things, and not thee, what have I ? 
 
 Not having thee, what have my labours got ? 
 Let me enjoy but thee, what farther crave I ? 
 
 And, having thee alone, what have I not ? 
 I wish nor sea, nor land ; nor would I be 
 Possess'd of Heav'n, Heav'n unpossess'd of thee. 
 
 * Refection, refreshment. 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 87 
 
 Bonavent. Soliluq. Cap. i. 
 Alas ! my God, now I understand (but blush to 
 confess) that the beauty of thy creatures hath de- 
 ceived mine eyes, and I have not observed that thou 
 art more amiable than all thy creatures ; to which 
 thou hast communicated but one drop of thy inesti- 
 mable beauty : for who hath adorned the heavens 
 with stars ? who haih stored the air with fowl, the 
 waters with fish, the earth with plants and flowers ? 
 But what are all these but a small spark of divine 
 beauty ? 
 
 S, Chrys. Horn. v. in Ep, ad Rom, 
 
 In having nothing I have all things, because I 
 have Christ. Having therefore all things in him, 
 I seek no other reward ; for he is the universal 
 reward. 
 
 Epig. 6. 
 
 Who would not throw his better thoughts about him, 
 And scorn this dross within him ; that, without him ? 
 Cast up, my soul, thy clearer eye ; behold. 
 If thou be fully melted, there's the mould. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM VIL 
 
 Psalm cxx. 5. 
 
 Woe is me, that I sojourn in 3Iesech, that I divell in 
 the tents of Kedah ! 
 
 Is Nature's course dissolv'd? doth Time's glass 
 
 stand ? 
 Or hath some frolic heart set back the hand 
 Of Fate's perpetual clock ? will 't never strike ? 
 Is crazy time grown lazy, faint, or sick 
 With very age ? or hath that great purroyal* 
 Of adamantine sisters late made trial 
 Of some new trade \ shall mortal hearts grow old 
 In sorrow ? shall my weary arms infold 
 And underprop my panting sides for ever ? 
 Is there no charitable hand will sever 
 My well -spun thread, that my imprison'd soul 
 May be delivered from this dull dark hole 
 Of dungeon flesh ? O shall I, shall I never 
 Be ransom'd, but remain a slave for ever ? 
 It is the lot of man but once to die ; 
 But, ere that death, how many deaths have I ! 
 What human madness makes the world afraid 
 To entertain Heav'n's joys, because convey'd 
 By th' hand of Death ? Will Nakedness refuse 
 Rich change of robes, because the man's not spruce 
 That brought them ? or will Poverty send back 
 Full bags of gold, because the bringer's black ? 
 
 * Purroyal ; pair-royal. 
 
B O O 
 
 EM.E l: 
 
 PtiiLiiijjo.^. 
 
 ^vLf'/ ffi J/.;srrAw,/r,„rvl<an/ /nf.y/r// , 
 l/iif /'/t f/ir Tc/iAv t'/'A'()iiir / ///n,\'t din// . 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 89 
 
 Life is a bubble, blown with whining breaths, 
 
 Fiird with the torments of a thousand deaths ; 
 
 Which, being prick'd by death (while death deprives 
 
 One life), presents the soul a thousand lives. 
 
 O frantic mortal, how hath Earth bewitch'd 
 
 Thy bedlam soul, which hath so fondly pitch'd 
 
 Upon her false delights ! delights that cease 
 
 Before enjoyment finds a time to please : 
 
 Her fickle joys breed doubtful fears ; her fears 
 
 Bring hopeful griefs; her griefs weep fearful tears; 
 
 Tears coin deceitful hopes ; hopes careful doubt ; 
 
 And surly passion jusiies passion out. 
 
 To-day we pamper with a full repast 
 
 Of lavish mirth ; at night we weep as fast : 
 
 To-night we swim in wealth, and lend ; to-morrow 
 
 We sink in want, and find no friend to borrow. 
 
 In what a climate doth my soul reside, 
 
 Where pale-fac'd Murder, the first-born of Pride, 
 
 Sets up her kingdom in the very smiles 
 
 And plighted faiths of men-like crocodiles : 
 
 A land where each embroider'd satin word 
 
 Is lin'd with fraud ; where Mars his* lawless sword 
 
 Exiles Astrsea's balance ; where that hand 
 
 Now slays his brother, that new-sow'd his land ! 
 
 O that my days of bondage would expire 
 
 In this lewd soil ! Lord, how my soul 's on fire 
 
 To be dissolved, that I might once obtain 
 
 These long'd-for joys — long'd for, so oft, in vain ! 
 
 If, Moses-like, 1 may not live possest 
 
 Of this fair land. Lord, let me see 't, at least. 
 
 * Mars his; Mars's. 
 
 VOL II. 
 
90 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S. August. Soliloq. Cap. ii. 
 
 My life is a frail life ; a corruptible life ; a life, which 
 the more it increaseth, the more it decreaseth ; the 
 farther it goeth, the nearer it cometh unto death : a 
 deceitful life, and like a shadow ; full of the snares of 
 death : now I rejoice ; now I languish ; now I flourish ; 
 now infirm ; now I live, and straight I die ; now I seem 
 happy, always miserable ; now I laugh, now I weep : 
 thus all things are subject, to mutability, that nothing 
 continueth an hour in one state : joy above joy 
 exceeding all joy, without which there is no joy, when 
 shall I enter into thee, that I may see my God that 
 dwelleth in thee ? 
 
 Epig, 7. 
 
 Art thou so weak ? O canst thou not digest 
 
 An hour of travel for a night of rest ? 
 
 Cheer up, my soul, call home thy sp'rits, and bear 
 
 One bad Good- Friday ; full-mouth'd Easter's near.* 
 
 * The author here contrasts the strict fast observed on Good 
 Friday, (particulary in the Catholic Church) -with the abundance 
 which prevails during the Easter festivities, then about to com. 
 mence* 
 
B O O K -v. 
 
 em:b leivi 8 
 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM VIII. 
 
 Rom. vii. 24. 
 
 O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me 
 from the body of this death ? 
 
 Behold thy darling", which thy lustful care 
 Pampers ; for which thy restless thoughts prepare 
 Such early cates ;* for whom thy bui)bling brow 
 So often sweats, and bankrupt eyes do owe 
 Such midnight scores to Nature ; for whose sake 
 Base earth is sainted ; the infernal lake 
 Unfear'd ; the crown of glory poorly rated ; 
 Thy God neglected, and thy brother hated : 
 Behold thy darling, whom thy soul affects 
 So dearly ; whom thy fond indulgence decks 
 And puppets up in soft and silken weeds ; 
 Behold thy darling, whom thy fondness feeds 
 With far-fetch'd delicates, the dear-bought gains 
 Of ill-spent time, the price of half thy pains : 
 Behold thy darling, who, when clad by thee, 
 Derides thy nakedness ; and, when most free. 
 Proclaims her lover slave ; and, being fed 
 Most full, then strikes the indulgent feeder dead. 
 What mean'st thou thus, my poor deluded soul, 
 To love so fondly ? Can the burning coal 
 Of thy affection last without the fuel 
 Of counter love ? is thy compeer so cruel, 
 And thou so kind, to love unlov'd again ? 
 Canst thou sow favours, and thus reap disdain ? 
 
 * Cates : viands. 
 
92 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 Remember, O remember tboii art bom 
 
 Of royal blood ; remember thou art sworn 
 
 A maid of honour in the Court of Heav'n ; 
 
 Remember what a costly price was g-iv'n 
 
 To ransom thee from slav'ry thou wert in ; 
 
 And wilt thou now, my soul, turn slave again ? 
 
 The Son and Heir to Heav'n's Triune JEHOVE 
 
 Would fain become a suitor for thy love, 
 
 And offers for thy dow'r his Father's throne. 
 
 To sit for seraphims to gaze upon : 
 
 He '11 give thee honour, pleasure, wealth, and things 
 
 Transcending for the majesty of kings ; 
 
 And wilt thou prostrate to the odious charms 
 
 Of this base scullion ? shall his hallow arms 
 
 Hug thy soft sides ? shall these coarse hands untie 
 
 The sacred zone of thy virginity ? 
 
 For shame, degen'rous soul ! let thy desire 
 
 Be quicken'd up with more heroic fire : 
 
 Be wisely proud, let thy ambitious eye 
 
 Read nobler objects ; let thy thoughts defy 
 
 Such am'rous baseness ; let thy soul disdain 
 
 Th* ignoble proffers of so base a swain : 
 
 Or, if thy vows be past, and Hymen's bands 
 
 Have ceremonied your unequal hands. 
 
 Annul, at least avoid, thy lawless act 
 
 With insufficience, or a pre-contract : 
 
 Or, if the act be good, yet may'st thou plead 
 
 A second freedom ; for the flesh is dead. 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 
 
 93 
 
 Nazianz. Or at. xvi. 
 
 How I am joined to this body I know not; which 
 when it is healthful provoketh me to war, and being- 
 damaged by war, affecteth me with grief ; which I both 
 love as a fellow-servant, and hate as an utter enemy : it 
 is a pleasant foe and a perfidious friend. O strange 
 conjunction and alienation ! what I fear I embrace, and 
 what I love I am afraid of: before I make war, I am 
 reconciled : before I enjoy peace, I am at variance. 
 
 Epig. 8. 
 
 What need that house be daub'd with ilesh and blood ? 
 Hang'd round with silks and gold ? repaired with food ? 
 Cost idly spent ! That cost doth but prolong 
 Thy thraldom : fool, thou mak'st thy gaol too strong. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM IX. 
 
 Philippians i. 23. 
 
 / am in a strait betwixt two, having- a desire to depart, 
 and to he with Christ. 
 
 What meant our careful parents so to wear 
 
 And lavish out their ill-expended hours, 
 To purchase for us large possesions here. 
 
 Which (though unpurchased) are too truly ours ? 
 What meant they, ah ! what meant they, to 
 
 endure 
 Such loads of needless labour to procure 
 And make that thing our own, which was our own too 
 sure? 
 
 What mean these liv'ries* and possessive keys ? 
 
 What means these bargains, and these needless sales ? 
 What mean these jealous, these suspicious ways, 
 Of law-devis'd and law-dissolved entails ? 
 No need to sweat for gold, wherewith to buy 
 Estates of high-priz'd land ; no need to tie 
 Earth to their heirs, were they but clogg'd with earth 
 as I. 
 
 O were their souls but clogg'd with earth as I, 
 They would not purchase with so salt an itch : 
 
 They would not take of alms,* what now they buy 
 Nor call him happy whom the world counts rich : 
 
 * Liveries : a law term, expressive of legal coaveyaace of an estate, 
 t 0/ Alms : i. e., as a free gift. 
 
TOTT^ 
 
 /hi /'vn/ti/ ti'Ei/rf/t , /'ft/ ^//r/i/ /rryVt/7oj.vt/af//> . 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 95 
 
 They would not take sucb pains, project and prog,* 
 To charge their shoulders with so great a log : 
 Who hath the greater lands, hath but the greater clog. 
 
 I cannot do an act which Earth disdains not ; 
 
 I cannot think a thought which Earth corrupts not : 
 I cannot speak a word which Earth profanes not : 
 I cannot make a vow Earth interrupts not : 
 If I but offer an early groan, 
 Or spread my wings to Heaven's long long'd-for 
 throne. 
 She darkens my complaints, and drags my off'ring down. 
 
 E'en like the hawk, (whose keeper's wary hands 
 
 Have made a pris'ner to her weath'ringf stock,) 
 
 Forgetting quite the power of her fast bands 
 
 Makes a rank bate:}: from her forsaken block :' 
 
 But her too faithful leash§ doth soon restain 
 
 Her broken flight attempted oft in vain ; 
 
 It gives her loins a twitch, and tugs her back again. 
 
 So, when my soul directs her better eye 
 
 To Heaven's bright palace, where my treasure lies, 
 
 I spread my willing wings, but cannot fly ; 
 
 Earth hales me down ; I cannot, cannot rise : 
 
 When I but strike to mount the least degree. 
 
 Earth gives a jerk, and foils me on my knee: 
 
 Lord, how my soul is racked betwixt the world and thee ! 
 
 Great God, I spread my feeble wings in vain ; 
 
 In vain I offer my extended hands : 
 I cannot mount till thou unlink my chain ; 
 I cannot come till thou release my bands ; 
 
 Which if thou please to break, and then supply 
 My wings with spirit, th' eagle shall not fly 
 A pitch that 's half so fair, nor half so swift as I. 
 
 * To prog : to use all endeavours to get or gain. 
 
 t To loeather a hawk (in falconry) signifies to set her abroad to 
 take the air. 
 
 t Rank bate : a strong spring for flight. 
 
 § Leash : the thong by which a hawk is fastened to her stock or 
 perch. 
 
96 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S. Bonavent. Soliloq. Cap. i. 
 
 Ah, sweet Jesus ! pierce the marrow of my soul with 
 the healthful shafts of thy love, that it may truly burn^ 
 and melt and languish, with the only desire of thee 5 
 that it may desire to be dissolved, and to be with thee : 
 let it hunger alone for the bread of life : let it thirst 
 after thee, the spring and fountain of eternal light, the 
 stream of true pleasure : let it always desire thee, seek 
 thee, and find thee, and sweetly rest in thee. 
 
 Epig. 9. 
 
 What, will thy shackles neither loose nor break ? 
 Are they too strong, or is thy arm too week 1 
 Art will prevail where knotty strength denies ; 
 My soul, there's aquafortis in thine eyes. 
 
'^^k. 
 
BO o K v: 
 
 ETVEBLEl^t 10. 
 
 Pialau X|.2 .7. 
 Zortljrct' f/tv (Vipfiyr Sru/ .• ti/fil fJn/t f/n' Proi'fc 
 S/tfi// /i7/ f/tr ri'/n/tttfit f/'f/fv/cv/i// /)(i\\t'. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM X. 
 
 Psalm cxlii. 7. 
 
 Bring my soul out of prison^ that I may praise thy 
 name. 
 
 My soul is like a bird ; my flesh the cage, 
 
 Wherein she wears her weary pilgrimage 
 
 Of hours as few as evil, daily fed 
 
 With sacred wine and sacramental bread : 
 
 The keys that lock her in, and let her out, 
 
 Are birth and death ; 'twixt both she hops about 
 
 From perch to perch, from sense to reason ; then 
 
 From higher reason down to sense again : 
 
 From sense she climbs to faith ; where, for a season, 
 
 She sits and sings ; then down again to reason : 
 
 From reason back to faith, and straight from thence 
 
 She rudely flutters to the perch of sense : 
 
 From sense to hope ; then hops from hope to doubt ; 
 
 From doubt to dull despair ; there seeks about 
 
 F'or desp'rate freedom, and at ev'ry grate 
 
 She wildly thrusts, and begs th' untimely date 
 
 Of unexpired thraldom, to release 
 
 Th' afflicted captive, that can find no peace. 
 
 Thus am 1 coop'd within this fleshly cage ; 
 
 I wear my youth, and waste my weary age ; 
 
 Spending that breath, which was ordained to chant 
 
 Heav'n's praises forth, in sighs and sad complaint ; 
 
 Whilst happier birds can spread their nimble wing 
 
 From shrubs to cedars, and there chirp and sing. 
 
 In choice of raptures, the harmonious story. 
 
EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 Of man's redemption, and his Maker's glory. 
 You glorious martyrs, you illustrious troops, 
 That once were cloister'd in your fleshly coops 
 As fast as I, what rhet'ric had your tongues ? 
 What dext'rous art had your elegiac songs ? 
 What Paul-like power had your admir'd devotion ? 
 What shackle-breaking faith infused such motion 
 To your strong pray'rs, that could obtain the boon 
 To be enlar'd, to be uncag'd so soon ? 
 When I (poor I) can sing my daily tears, 
 Grown old in bondage, and can find no ears. 
 You great partakers of eternal glory, 
 That with your Heav'n-prevailing oratory 
 Releas'd your souls from your terrestrial cage, 
 Permit the passion of my holy rage 
 To recommend my sorrows (dearly known 
 To you in days of old, and once your own) 
 To your best thoughts (but oh, 't doth not befit ye 
 To move our pray*rs ; you love and joy, not pity), 
 Great Lord of souls, to whom should prisoners fly 
 But thee ? thou hadst thy cag-e as well as I ; 
 And, for my sake, thy pleasure was to know 
 The sorrows that it brought, and fel'st them too : 
 O let me free, and I will spend those days 
 Which now I waste in begging, in thy praise. 
 
BOOK VI. EMBLEilS. 99 
 
 Anselm. in Profolog, Cap. i. 
 
 O miserable condition of mankind, that has lost that 
 for which he was created ! Alas ! what hath he left ? 
 and what hath he found ? He hath lost happiness for 
 which he was made, and found misery for which he was 
 not made. What is gone ? and what is left ? That 
 thing is gone, without which he is unhappy ; that thing 
 is left, by which he is miserable. O wretched man ! 
 from whence are we expelled? to what are we impelled? 
 whence are we thrown, and whither are we hurried ? 
 From our home into banishment ; from the sight of 
 God into our own blindness ; from the pleasure or 
 immortality to the bitterness of death. Miserable 
 change ! from how great a good, to how great an evil ! 
 Ah me, what have I enterprised ? what have I done ? 
 whither did I go ? whither am I come ? 
 
 Bpig, 10. 
 
 Paul's midnight voice prevail'd ; his music's thunder 
 Unhing'd the prison doors, split bolts in sunder : 
 And sitt'st thou here, and hang'st the feeble wing 1 
 And whin'st to be enlarg'd ? Soul, learn to sing. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM XI. 
 
 Psalm xlii. 1. 
 
 As the heart panteth after the luater-hrooks, so panteth 
 my soul after thee, O God, 
 
 How shall my tongue express that hallow'd fire 
 
 Which heaven hath kindled in my ravish'd heart ? 
 What muse shall I invoke that will inspire 
 
 My lowly quill to act a lofty part ? 
 What art shall I devise t' express desire 
 - Too intricate to be express'd by art ? 
 Let all the Nine be silent ; 1 refuse 
 Their aid in this high task, for they abuse 
 The flames of love too much : assist me David's Muse. 
 
 Not as the thirsty soil desires soft show'rs 
 
 To quicken and refresh her embryon grain,* 
 Nor as the drooping crests of fading flow'rs 
 
 Request the bounty of a morning rain, 
 Do I desire my God : these in few hours 
 Re-wish what late their wishes did obtain : 
 But as the swift-foot hart doth, wounded, fly 
 To th' much desired streams, e'en so do I 
 Pant after thee my God, whom I must find, or die. 
 
 Before a pack of deep-mouth'd lusts I flee ; 
 O they have singled out me panting heart, 
 
 * Embryon grain ; seed in the earth not grown up. 
 
B o o k: ^^ 
 
 ElVfBLKM 11. 
 
 Pfalnv I'ji ,1. 
 A'/// (IX f/ii //,//■/ ///( fi'< /f'/ii/ S/fr fii//.y(/r.\ir( .V, 
 tS'r' /f //ii- /,< rd f'/'/ji/r nn- A'r/// inyiifcv . 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 101 
 
 And wanton Cupid, sitting in a tree, 
 
 Hath pierc'd my bosom with a flaming dart : 
 My soul, being spent, for refuge seeks to thee. 
 But cannot find where thou, my Refuge, art : 
 Like as the swift-foot hart doth, wounded, fly 
 To the desir'd streams, e'en so do I 
 Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 
 
 At length, by flight, I overwent the pack ; 
 
 Thou drew'st the wanton dart from out my wound 
 The blood that follow'd left a purple track, 
 
 Which brought a serpent, but in shape a hound : 
 We strove, he bit me ; but thou break'st his back ; 
 I left him grov'lling on th' envenom'd ground : 
 But as the serpent- bitten hart doth fly 
 To the long long'd-for streams, e'en so did I 
 Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 
 
 If lust should chase my soul, made swift by fright, 
 Thou art the stream whereto my soul is bound ; 
 Or if a jav'lin wound my sides in flight. 
 
 Thou art the balsam that must cure my wound : 
 If poison chance t' infest my soul in fight. 
 
 Thou art the treacle that must make me sound 
 E'en as the wounded hart, embost,* doth.iy 
 To th' streams extremely long'd for, so do I 
 Pant after thee, my God, whom I must find, or die. 
 
 * Embost (a terra of hunters) ; wearied to foaming. 
 
 VOT,. II. 
 
102 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S. Cyril, Lib. v. Joh. Cap, x. 
 
 O precious water, which quencheth the noisome 
 thirst of this world, that scoureth all the stains of sin- 
 ners, that watereth the earth of our souls with heavenly 
 showers, and bringeth back the thirsty heart of man to 
 his only God ! 
 
 S. August. Soliloq, Cap, xxxv. 
 
 O fountain of life, and vein of living- waters, when 
 shall I leave this forsaken, impassable, and dry earth, 
 and taste the waters of thy sweetness, that I may behold 
 thy virtue and thy glory, and slack my thirst with the 
 stream of thy mercy ? Lord, I thirst : thou art the 
 spring- of life ; satisfy me : I thirst, Lord ; I thirst 
 after thee, the living God, 
 
 Epig. 11, 
 
 The arrow- smitten hart, deep wounded, flies 
 To th' springs, with water in his weeping eyes : 
 Heav'n is thy spring: if Satan's fiery dart 
 Pierce thy faint sides ; do so, my wounded heart. 
 
B O O K \^ 
 
 1..A 1) Li^ n 12 
 
 Plalnx 4.2.2. 
 
 J,rr,/f// ^/trJ^/r.ic/frr- ir/ir/i .v/i,t///,ifi^tt'af.' 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM XII. 
 
 Psalm xlii. 2. 
 
 When shall I come and appear before God. 
 
 What is my soul the better to be tin'd* 
 
 With holy fire ? what bootsf it to be coin'd 
 
 With Heav'n's own stamp ? what Vantage can there be 
 
 To souls of heav'n-descended pedigree. 
 
 More than to beasts that grovel ? Are not they 
 
 Fed by th' Almighty's hand ; and, ev'ry day, 
 
 ~*"lj[ with his blessings too ? Do they not see 
 
 vjoi3 in his creatures, as direct as we ? 
 
 Do they not taste thee — hear thee ? nay, what sense 
 
 Is not partaker of thine excellence 1 
 
 What more do we ? alas ! what serves our reason. 
 
 But, like dark lanterns, to accomplish treason 
 
 With greater closeness ? It affords no light. 
 
 Brings thee no nearer to our purblind sight ; 
 
 No pleasure rises up the least degree. 
 
 Great God, but in the clearer view of thee ; 
 
 What priv'lege more than sense hath reason than ?{ 
 
 What 'vantage is it to be born a man ? 
 
 How often hath my patience built, dear Lord, 
 
 Vain tow'rs of hope upon thy gracious word ! 
 
 How often hath thy hope-reviving grace 
 
 Woo'd my suspicious eyes to seek thy face : 
 
 * Tind ; lighted up. f Boots ; profits. 
 
 t Than; put for (hen^ to accommodate the rhyme. 
 
104 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 How often have I sought thee ! O how long 
 
 Hath expectation taught my perfect tongue 
 
 Repeated pray'rs, yet pray'rs could ne'er obtain ; 
 
 In vain I seek thee, and I beg in vain I 
 
 If it be high presumption to behold 
 
 Thy face, w^hy didst thou make my eyes so bold 
 
 To seek it ? if that object be too bright 
 
 For man's aspect, why did thy lips invite 
 
 Mine eye t' expect it ? if it might be seen, 
 
 Why is this envious curtain drawn between 
 
 My darken'd eye and it ? O tell me, why 
 
 Thou dost command the thing thou dost deny ? 
 
 Why dost thou give me so unpriz'd a treasure, 
 
 And then deny'st my greedy soul the pleasure 
 
 To view thy gift ? Alas ! that gift is void. 
 
 And is no gift, that may not be enjoy'd. 
 
 If these refulgent beams of Heav'n's great light 
 
 Gild not the day, what is the day but night ? 
 
 The drowsy shepherd sleeps, flow'rs droop and fade; 
 
 The birds are sullen, and the beasts are sad : 
 
 But if bright Titan dart his golden ray 
 
 And with his riches glorify the day, 
 
 The jolly shepherd pipes, flow'rs freshly spring ; 
 
 The beasts grow gamesome, and the birds they sing. 
 
 Thou art my Sud, great God ! O when shall I 
 
 View the full beams of thy meridian eye ? 
 
 Draw, draw this fleshly curtain, that denies 
 
 The gracious presence of thy glorious eyes ; 
 
 Or give me faith, and, by the eye of grace, 
 
 I shall behold thee, though not face to face. 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. 105 
 
 S, August* in Psal. xxxix. 
 
 Who created all things is better than all things ; 
 who beautified all things is more beautiful than ail 
 things ; who made strength is stronger than all things ; 
 who made great things is greater than all things : what- 
 soever thou lovest he is that to thee : learn to love the 
 workman in his work, the Creator in his creature : let 
 not that which was made by him possess thee, lest thou 
 lose him by whom thyself was made. 
 
 S, August Med. Cap, xxxvii. 
 
 O thou most sweet, most gracious, most amiable, 
 most fair, when shall I see thee ? when shall I be 
 satisfied with thy beauty ? when wilt thou lead me from 
 this dark dungeon, that I may confess thy name ? 
 
 Epig. 12. 
 
 How art thou shaded, in this veil of night. 
 Behind thy curtain flesh ? Thou seest no light 
 But what thy pride doth challenge as her own ; 
 Thy flesh is high : Soul, take this curtain down. 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM XIII. 
 
 Psalm Iv. 6. 
 
 O that I had wings like a dove ! for then would Ifiy 
 away^ and he at rest. 
 
 And am I sworn a dungbill-slave for ever 
 
 To earth's base drudg^'ry ? Shall I never find 
 A night of rest ? Shall my indentures never 
 Be cancell'd ? Did injurious Nature bind 
 My soul Earth's 'prentice, with no clause to leave her ? 
 No day of freedom ? Must I ever g-rind ? 
 O that I had the pinions of a dove, 
 That I might quit my bands, and soar above, 
 And pour my just complaints before the great Jehove ! 
 
 How happy are the doves that have the pow'r, 
 
 Whene'er they please, to spread their airy wings ! 
 Or cloud-dividing eagles, that can tow'r 
 
 Above the scent of these inferior things ! 
 How happy is the lark, that ev'ry hour 
 
 Leaves earth, and then, for joy, mounts up and sings ! 
 Had my dull soul but wings as well as they, 
 How I would spring from earth, and clip* away. 
 As wise Aastrsea, and scron this ball of clay ! 
 
 O how my soul would spurn this ball of clay, 
 
 And loathe the dainties of earth's painful pleasure ! 
 
 * cup ; fly swiftly. 
 
:b O O K "^7". 
 
 EIvlKLEM 13. 
 
 Plalivi . r^r^. G . 
 ('//>,,/ f/nt,/f/,rJVin'r,ix ,/',( /)rtr .' 
 
BOOK V. 
 
 EMBLEMS. 107 
 
 O how I 'd laugh to see men night and day- 
 Turmoil to gain that trash they call their treasure! 
 O how I 'd smile to see what plots they lay 
 To catch a blast, or own a smile from Gaesar ! 
 Had I the pinions of a mounting dove, 
 How I would soar and sing, and hate the love 
 Of transitory toys, and feed on joys above ! 
 
 There should I find that everlasting pleasure, 
 
 Which change removes not, and which chance pre- 
 vents not ; 
 There should I find that everlasting treasure. 
 
 Which force deprives not, forture disaugments* not ; 
 There should I find that everlasting Caesar, 
 
 Whose hand recalls not, and whose heart repents not : 
 Had I the pinions of a clipping dove, 
 How I would climb the skies, and hate the love 
 Of transitory toys, and joy in things above ! 
 
 No rank-mouth'd slander there shall give offence. 
 Or blast our blooming names, as here they do ; 
 No liver-scalding lust shall there incense 
 
 Our boiling veins ; there is no Cupid's bow : 
 Lord, give my soul the milk-white innocence 
 Of doves, and I shall have their pinions too : 
 Had I the pinions of a sprightly dove, 
 How I would quit this earth, and soar above, 
 And Heav'n's bless'd kingdom find, and Heav'n's bless'd 
 King, Jehove ! 
 
 t Disaxirjments ; wasteth. 
 
108 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 S, August, in Psal. cxxxviii. 
 
 What wings should I desire but the two precepts of 
 love, on which the law and the prophets depend ? O if 
 I could obtain these wings, I could fly from thy face to 
 thy face, from the face of thy justice to the face of thy 
 mercy : let us find those wings by love, which we have 
 lost by lust. 
 
 S. August, in PsaL Ixxvi. 
 
 Let us cast off whatsoever hindereth, entangleth, or 
 burdeneth our flight, until we attain that which satis- 
 fieth ; beyond which nothing is ; beneath which all 
 things are ; of which all things are. 
 
 Epig. 13. 
 
 Tell me, my wishing soul, didst ever try 
 How fast the wings of red-cross'd Faith can fly ? 
 Why beg'st thou, then, the pinions of a dove ? 
 Faith's wings are swifter ; but the swiftest, love. 
 
E o K .y. 
 
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 MBLElvl 1^ 
 
 Pi aim 8 ), ] . 
 r'Zf/w/ r/'/ff.vAv, t/tyJu,ir/i?vJ[a/fxi,>fi.v arc .' 
 
BOOK v.— EMBLEM XIV. 
 
 Psalm Ixxxiv. 1. 
 How amiable are thy iabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! 
 
 Ancient of days, to whom all times are now. 
 Before whose glory seraphims do bow 
 Their blushing cheeks, and veil their blemish'd faces ; 
 That, uncontain'd, at once dost fill all places ; 
 How glorious, O how far beyond the height 
 Of puzzled quills, or the obtuse conceit 
 Of flesh and blood, or the too flat reports 
 Of mortal tongues, are thy expressless Courts ! 
 Whose glory to paint forth with greater art, 
 Ravish my fancy and inspire my heart ; 
 Excuse my bold attempt and pardon me 
 For showing Sense what Faith alone should see. 
 Ten thousand millions, and ten thousand more. 
 Of angel-measur'd leagues from th' eastern shore 
 Of dungeon-earth this glorious palace stands. 
 Before whose pearly gates ten thousand bands 
 Of armed angels wait, to entertain 
 Those purged souls for whom the Lamb was slain ; 
 Whose guiltless death, and voluntary yielding 
 Of whose giv'n life, gave this brave Court her building 
 The lukewarm blood of this dear Lamb, being spilt. 
 To rubies turn'd, whereof her posts were built ; 
 And what dropp'd down in cold and gelid gore 
 Did turn rich saphires, and impav'd her floor : 
 The brighter flames, and from his eye-balls ray'd, 
 Grew chrysolites, whereof her walls were made : 
 
110 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 The milder glances sparkled on the ground. 
 
 And groundsell'd ev'ry door with diamond ; 
 
 But, dying, darted upwards, and did fix 
 
 A battlement of purest sardonyx. 
 
 Her streets with burnish'd gold are paved round ; 
 
 Stars lie like pebbles scatter'd on the ground : 
 
 Pearl, mix'd with onyx, and the jasper stone, 
 
 Made gravell'd causways to be trampled on. 
 
 There shines no sun by day, no moon by night ; 
 
 The palace glory is the palace light : 
 
 There is no time to measure motion by, 
 
 There time is swallow'd with eternity : 
 
 Wry-mouth'd Disdain and corner-haunting Lust, 
 
 And twy-fac'd Fraud and beetle-brow'd Distrust, 
 
 Soul-boiling Rage and trouble-state Sedition, 
 
 And giddy Doubt and goggle-ey'd Suspicion, 
 
 And lumpish Sorrow and degen'rous Fear, 
 
 Are banish'd thence, and Death 's a stranger there : 
 
 But simple love, and sempiternal joys. 
 
 Whose sweetness never gluts, nor fulness cloys ; 
 
 Where, face to face, our ravish 'd eye shall see 
 
 Great ELOHIM, that glorious One in Three, 
 
 And Three in One, and, seeing him, shall bless him ; 
 
 And, blessing, love him ; and in love possess him. 
 
 Here stay, ray soul, and ravish in relation ; 
 
 Thy words being spent, spend now in contemplation. 
 
BOOK V. EMBLEMS. Ill 
 
 S. Greg, in Psal. vii. Poenitent, 
 
 Sweet Jesus, the Word of the Father, the brightness 
 of paternal glory, whom angels delight to view, teach 
 me to do thy will ; that led by thy good Spirit, I may 
 come to that blessed city, where day is eternal ; where 
 there is certain security, and secure eternity ; and eter- 
 nal peace, and peaceful happiness ; and happy sweet- 
 ness, and sweet pleasure ; where thou, O God, with the 
 Father and the Holy Spirit, liyest and reignest world 
 without end. 
 
 Ibidem. 
 
 There is light without darkness ; joy without grief; 
 desire without punishment ; love without sadness ; 
 satiety without loathing ; safety without fear ; health 
 without disease ; and life without death. 
 
 Epig. 14. 
 
 My soul, pry not too nearly ; the complexion 
 Of Sol's bright face is seen but by reflection : 
 But would'st thou know what's Heav*n ? I '11 tell thee 
 
 what ; 
 Think what thou canst not think, and Heav'n is that. 
 
BOOK V. -EMBLEM XV. 
 
 Canticles viii. 14. 
 
 Make haste, my beloved, and be thou like to a roe or 
 to a young hart upon the mountains of spices. 
 
 Go, gentle tyrant, go ; thy flames do pierce 
 My soul too deep ; thy flames are too, too fierce : 
 My marrow melts, my fainting spirits fry, 
 I' th' torrid zone of thy meridian eye: 
 Away, away, thy sweets are too perfuming ; 
 Turn, turn thy face, thy fires are too consuming : 
 Haste, hence, and let thy winged steps outgo 
 The frighted roebuck, and his flying roe. 
 
 But wilt thou leave me, then ? O thou that art 
 Life of "my soul, soul of my dying heart; 
 Without the sweet aspect of whose fair eyes 
 My soul doth languish, and her solace dies ; 
 Art thou so eas'ly woo'd ? so apt to hear 
 The frantic language of my foolish fear ? 
 
 Leave, leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 
 
 Look, look upon me, though thine eyes o'ercome me. 
 
 how they wound ! but how my wounds content me ! 
 How sweetly these delightful pains torment me ! 
 How I am tortur'd in excessive measure 
 
 Of pleasing cruelties ! too cruel pleasure ! 
 Turn, turn away, remove thy scorching beams ; 
 
 1 languish with these bitter sweet extremes : 
 
Cant: 8.1. J,. 
 

 
Book v. emblems. 113 
 
 Haste then, and let thy winged steps outgo 
 The flying roebuck, and his frighted roe. 
 
 Turn back, my dear ! O let my ravish'd eye 
 Once more behold thy face before thou fly I 
 What, shall we part without a mutual kiss ? 
 
 who can leave so sweet a face as this ? 
 Look full upon me ; for my soul desires 
 To turn a holy martyr in these fires : 
 
 O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 
 Look, look upon me, though thy flames o'ercome me. 
 
 If thou becloud the sunshine of thine eye, 
 
 1 freeze to death ; and if it shine I fry ; 
 Which, like a fever, that my soul hath got. 
 Makes me to burn too cold, or freeze too hot : 
 Alas ! I cannot bear so sweet a smart. 
 
 Nor canst thou be less glorious than thou art. 
 Haste then, and let thy winded steps outgo 
 The frighted roebuck and his flying roe. 
 
 But go not far beyond the reach of breath ; 
 Too large a distance makes another death : 
 My youth is in her spring ; autumnal vows 
 Will make me riper for so sweet a spouse : 
 When after-times have burnish'd my desire, 
 I'll shoot thee flames for flames, and fire for fire. 
 
 O leave me not, nor turn thy beauty from me ; 
 
 Look, look upon me, though thy flames o'ercome me. 
 
 VOL. II, 
 
H4 EMBLEMS. BOOK Y. 
 
 Autor Scales Paradisi. Tom. ix. Aug. Cap viii. 
 
 Fear not, O bride t nor despair ; think not thyself 
 contemned if thy Bridegroom withdraw his face awhile : 
 all things co-operate for the best i both from his ab- 
 sence and his presence, thou gainest light : he cometb 
 to thee, and he goeth from thee r he eometh, to make 
 thee consolate ; he goeth to make thee cautious, lest 
 thy abundant consolation puff thee up : he eometh, that 
 thy languishing soul may be comforted ; he goeth, lest 
 his familiarility should be contemned; and, being ab- 
 sent, to be more desired ; and, being desired,^ to be 
 more easily sought ; and, being long sought, to be more 
 acceptably found. 
 
 Epicf, 15. 
 
 My soul, sin's monster^ whom with greater ease 
 Ten thousand fold thy God could make than please. 
 What woukFst thou have ? Nor pleas'^d with sun, nor 
 
 shade ; 
 Heav'n knows not what to make of what He made» 
 
B O O K V 
 
 THZ FAP.E^/TELL 
 
 1 idelijue cororLat ad Ar as . 
 J''f///// tit f/tc Ahfir rrrtt^is, and leadv frJIcni-ii 
 
THE FAREWELL. 
 
 Rev. ii 10. 
 
 Be tJiou faithful unto death, arid I will give thee a 
 crown of life. 
 
 Be faithful ? Lord, what 's that? 
 Believe : 'Tis easy to believe ; but what ? 
 
 That He whom thy hard heart hath wounded, 
 
 And whom thy scorn hath spit npon. 
 Hath paid thy fine, and hath compounded 
 
 For those foul deeds thy hands have done : 
 Believe that He, whose gentle palms 
 
 Thy needle-pointed sins have nail'd. 
 Hath borne thy slavish load (of alms), 
 And made supply where thou hast fail'd. 
 Did ever mis'ry find so strange relief? 
 It is a love too strong- for man's belief. 
 
 Believe that He, whose side 
 Thy crimes have pierc'd with their rebellions, died 
 To save thy guilty soul from dying 
 
 Ten thousand horrid deaths, from whence 
 There was no 'scape, there was no flying, 
 
 But through his dearest blood's expense : 
 Believe this dying Friend requires 
 No other thanks for all his pain, 
 But e^en the truth of weak desires. 
 And, for his love, but love again. 
 Did ever mis'ry find so true a friend ? 
 It is a love too vast to comprehend. 
 
 With floods of tears baptize 
 And drench these dry, these unregen'rate, eyes * 
 
116 EMBLEMS. BOOK V. 
 
 Lord, whet my dull, my blunt belief, 
 
 And break this fleshly rock in sunder, 
 That from this heart, this hell of grief, 
 
 May spring a Heav'n of love and wonder : 
 O, if thy mercies will remove 
 
 And melt this lead from my belief. 
 My grief will then refine my love. 
 My love will then refresh my grief. 
 Then weep, mine eyes, as He hath bled ; vouchsafe 
 To drop for ev'ry drop an epitaph. 
 
 But is the crown of glory 
 The wages of a lamentable story ? 
 Or can so great a purchase rise 
 
 From a salt humour ? Can mine eye 
 Run fast enough t' obtain this prize } 
 If so. Lord, who 's so mad to die ? 
 Thy tears are trifles ; thou must do : 
 Alas! I cannot; then endeavour; 
 I will ; but will a tug or two 
 
 Suffice the turn } Thou must persever :* 
 I '11 strive till death ; and shall my feeble strife 
 Be crown'd ? I '11 crown it with a crown of life. 
 
 But is there such a dearth, 
 That thou must buy what is ^ly due by birth ? 
 He whom thy hands did form of dust. 
 And gave him breath upon condition 
 To love his great Creator, must 
 
 He now be thine by composition ? 
 Art thou a gracious God, and mild, 
 
 Or headstrong man rebellious rather ? 
 O, man 's a base rebellious child. 
 And thou a very gracious Father : 
 The gift is thine ; we strive, thou crown'st our strife 
 Thou giv'st us life ; and faith a crown of glory. 
 * Persever; hold on. 
 
 THE END. 
 J. Nichols, Printer, Milton Press, Chandos Street, Strand. 
 

 
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