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Pr give me vent, or elfe 1 burit, and die.


Book 3. Emllemes. 159

S. AMBP. 0$ in Pfal. 118.

He thit commiisfins to bi wpt fer,- cinnot weep for fins
committed: Anibdng bm[ijf moflUmemiblebith no tears
tohmsnt hU effcrjcs,

NAZIANZ. Orst. 5.
Teirs are the dduge of fin^ md the worldi facriji:e,

S. HIERON. mEfaiam.

Pfiyer tppeifes God^ hut i tear compiJs bim : Thjt moves
bintj but tbu confiraint bhn.

EPIC. 8.

Earth is an Ifland ported round with Fears;
Thy way to Hsav'n is through the Stz. of tears.
It is a ftormy paflagc, where is found
The wrack of many a Ihip, but no man drownM.

L 4

Emllemei. Book 3^


h^ jnzrss i^r death haiie auzrtakoL me.ffz •

Book 3^ Emllemes. x6t


PSALM i8. y.

Theforrows of hell compajfed me about ^ and
thefnares of death prevented me.

IS not this Type wen cut ? In ev'iy part
Full of rich cunning ? Fil'd with Zeuxian Art?
Are not the Hunters, and their Stygian Hounds
Limm'd fuU to th' idc i Didrt ever hear the founds
The mufi'-lc, and the lip dividech breaths
Of the frrong winded Horn, Recheats, and deaths.
Done more exaft ? Th' infernal Nimrods hoflow ?
The lawiefs purliews ? And the Game they follow ?
The hidden Engines, and the fuares that lie
$0 undifcover*d, fo obfcu.e to th' eye ?
The new-drawn net, aod her intanglcd Prey ?
And him that clofes it ? Bsheldrr, fay.
Is*t not wen doDC ? Teems not an era'Ious ftrife
Betwixt the rare cut pidure and the life ?
Thcfe purliew men are Devils ? and the hounds,
CThofe quick nos'd Canibals, that fcour the grounds)
Temptations and the Game, the Fiends parlue j
Are human fouls, which ftitl they have in view ;<
Whofefury if they chance to fcape, by flying
The skilful Hunter plants his net cloofe lying
Qn tb'unlirpe^led earth, baited with treafurc,
Ambirioa., honour, and felf wafting pleafure :
Where, if the fjul but: ftoop, death ftands prepar'd
To draw the net, and drown, the foul's enfaar d.


i6% Emhlemes. Book 3,

Poor foul ! how art thoa hurried too and fro ?

Where canfc thou fafely ftaf ? where fafely go ?

If ftay ; thefe hot-mouch*a Hounds are apt to tear thee.

If go ; the fcares enclofe, the nets enfnare thee :

What good in this bad world has pow*r t*invite thee

A willing Gueft ? wherein can earth delight thee ?

Here plealures are but itch : Her wealth, but Cares •

A world of Dangers, and a world of fnsres :

The clofe purfacrs bufie hands do plant

Snares in thy fubftance ; Snares attend thy want ;

Snares in thy credit ; Snares in thy difgrace ;

Snares in thy high eftate ; Snares in thy bafe ;

Snares tuck thy bed ; and Snares furround thy boord j

Snares watch thy thoughts ; and Snares attach thy word j

Snares in thr quiet ; Snares in thy com«iGtion ;

Snares in thy diet ; Snares in thy devotion ;

Snares lurk in thy refolves, Snares in thy doubt.

Snares lie withia thy heart, and Snares without.

Snares are above thy head, and Snares beneath,

Snares in thy ficknefs, Snares are in thy death ;

O, if thefe purliews be fo full of danger.

Great God of hearts, the worlds fole foWaign Ranger,

Preferve thy Deer, and let my foul be blefe

In t^y fafe Forrefc, where I feek for reft :

Then let the HelKhounds roar, I fear no ill,

Rouze me they may, but have no pow'r to kill.


Book 3- Emlkmcs. 163

S. A M B R O S. lib. 4. in cap. 4. in Luca»,

r The reroird of honours, the height of power, the dsJicacy of
ijet^ and the betiay of an harlot are the fnares of the Devil,

S, AM BROS, de bono mortis.

WhUH thou [deh'fi pleajures ^ thou ninnsfl into fnares, for
the (•)£ of the h&rlr'.f ii the frure of ibe Adulterer,


In erAi..', ■ .'..Ufcremihnonj'i in generation luxury I
in hbour.ftu^^giffj^'^fs I in conver/in^^envy : inj^overfijng,cove'-
tcufnefs} in ecne^in^, ^'^'f '* in hnour, jc-fij : in the heart,
be fcts evil thoughts \ in the mouthy evil VfOrds : in aSidns, e-
vil worls ' -''— -rvikcj he moves us to eiil actions \ when a^

E P I G. 6.

Be fad, my Heart, Deep dangers wa't thy mirth :
Thy rou!»s way- laid by Sea, by Hdl, by Earth :
Hen has her hounds : Ear:h, fnares : the Sea a (helf ;
But moft cf all, my heart, beware thy felf.



Book 3.


feruant for no -ntnit liutrM shaJlpe

Book. 3. Emhkmes. 156

PSALM 143. 2;

Enter not into judgment with thy fervant,
for in thy fight jhall no man living le

^eftts. ^ujltce. Sinner*

^^/.TD Ring forth the pi is ner, Juftice. Jw .Thy commands
ij Are done, juft Judge.See here the pri$'cer ftanda.

Je/. What has t^e prii'ner dene ? Say ; what's the caafe
Of his commkraect? fufi. He hath broken the laws
Of his too le^racious GoJ ; confpir'd the dearh
Of that gf-cat Majefly that gave him breath.
And hes'ps tranrgrefTioc, Lord, upon tranfgreffion.

^ef. How know*ft thou ihis?5«.Ev'n by his own confef.
His fins are crying : and they cry*d aloud ! (fion:

They cry'd to heav'o, they cr7*d to heav'n forblood.

^p/i What fay^ft thou finner ? haft thou ought to plead.
That fenteace fhould not pafs ? hold up thy bead,
And fhew thy brazen, thy rebellious f^:?.

Sin. Ah me ! I dare not : I'm too vile and bafa
To tread upon the earth, much more, to Uft
Mine eyes to heav'n ; I need no ether (hrift
Than niine o*n coniciecce ; Lord, I mult confefs,
I am no more than duft, and no whit lefs
Than my indictment fciles me ; Ah, if thou
Search too fcvere, with too fevere a brow.
What fielh can ftand f I have tranrgrefc thy U',js j
l/iy merits plc|d thy vengeance ; not my caufe :

66 1 Emhlemes. Book 3;

^ufi. Lord, rball I ftriics the blow ? ^jf. Hold. Jufticff.
Sinner, fpeak on ; what haii thou more to fay ? . (ftav

Sin. Vile as I am, and of my felf abhorr*J,
I am thy handy- work, thy creacure, Loru,
Stampt with thy glorious linage, and at firft,
Moft like to thee, though now a p»or accurft
Convi6^cd Ca'tiff, aud degenVous creature,
Here trembling at thy bar. ^ufi. Thy fault's the greater-:
Lord fhail I firike the blow ? pU Hold, Juftice flay,
Speak finner ; haft thou nothing more to fay ?

Sirt, Nothing but Mt^cy^ Mercy ; Lord my ftate
Is miferahly poor and defperate ;
I quite renoun e my felf, the world, and Are
From Lord to '^efkJi from thy felf to th-e*

^M/?. Ceafe thy Vdin hopes ; my angry God has vow'd j
Abuftd mercy muft have blood f^Oi hiLod :
Shall I ytt firike the blow -r .f j/. St^y, Jaftice, hold ;
My bo*cIs Y'ara, my fainting blood gro^^s cold,
To view Lhe trembling .wi'ttJi ? Mcrl.inks, Ifpie
My father's Image in the pvii'ners eye.

^ii(}.. I cannc. hold. 5-./. Then turn thy thirfty blade
Into my nics: let there the wound be made ;
Chear up, dear foul : redeem thy ilFc with mine ;
My fou; uiafl rm?<rt ; my heart jfiial] bleed for thine.

Sin. O groundleu dteps ! O love beyond degree !
Th' offended dies, to fee th' offender free.


Book 3/ Etnllemes. 167


* ■,

lorJ^ If I have ione that, for tohicb thcuviyefl dmn ms ;
thou hjjfl not lofl ihut rvberehy then nuye/i Uve m^ : R^emem-'
bernot, frceet ^cfus^ tky jujluc A^am^ the finiter, but thy be*
nignity towirds ib) Creature : K/mtmbsr not to proceed agjinji
a guilty foul , but remmber thy mtrry towsrds i miferable
rorttcb : forget the irjfclence cf the provoler^ and b^holdibs
tsiferyjiftbe hvoker; for vbar is jtfus but, a Saviour ?

A N S E S L M.

I/jLVirre^p'^ to ithat th^ Son hath dons for me, and forget
rvkax rriy flas hive done againji thee : My fi fit hub prozoked
thee to vengeance ; Ut the firjh of Cbrid move thee to mercy :
h is TKueh tbit my rehsUions have deftrved ; but i; ii more
tbit my l^deeiner hatb trerited.

EPIG. 10.
Mercy of mercies ! He that was my drudge
Is now rr.y Advocate, is row my judge:
He fuffers, pleads, and fentenccs, alone;
Three 1 sdore, and yet adore but One*

1 68


Book 3^


X^ n^^ f^ fpolerjhr

■ -4m

Book 3. Emikmes: i6f

PSALM 69. ij;

Let not the water-floods overflew me, neither
let the cfeepsflva/Uw me up.

THe world's a Sea ; my flclL a Ship that's mann'd
WiEhlab'f ingTboughts,acd ftcerM byReafons hand:
My Heart's the Sea-mans Card, whereby (hcCiili ;
My loofe Affedions arc the greater Sails :
The top fail is ray Fancie, and theGufts
That fii] thefc wanton fhcets, are worldly Lnftf.
Pray'f in the Cablr, at whofe end appears
The Anchor Hope, nev'r flip'd but in our fears ;
My will's th'unconftant Pilot, that commands
The flagg'ring Keel ; my Sins are like the Sandi ;
Repentance is the Bucket, and mine Eye
The Pump, unub*J (but in extrearas ) and dry:
My Confcienceis the Plummet that dothprefs
The deeps, but feldom cries, A fitkom leis :
Smooth Calm's fccurity ;. the Gulf, dcfpair ;
My Fraught's Corruption, and this Life's my Fair:
My Soul'i the Paffenger, confusedly driven
From fear to fright ; her landing Port is Heaven.
My Seas are ftorray, and my Ship doth leak ;
My Sailers rude ; my Steers- man faint and weak :
My Canvace torn, it flaps from f:de to fide :
My Cable's crackt, my Anchor's (lightly ty'd ;
My Pilot's craz'd, ray (hip *rack Sands arc cloak'd ;
Mg Bucket's brokea, and my Pump is ch6ak*d ;
My Calm's deceitful ; and my Gulf too near;
My Wares are fiubber'd, and my Par's coo dear :
Mv Plummet's light, it cannot link cor found ;
O (hall my Kock-bethreitned Soul be drown'd ?

M Lot^,

I70 Emllemes. Book 3,

lord, flin the Seas, and (hield my Ship from harm ;
Lnftruft my Sailours, guide my Stcerfmens arm .*
Touch thou my Compafs, and renew my Sails,
Send ftifFcr courage or fend milder gales ;
Make ftrong my Cable ; bind my Anchor faftcr ;
Dired my Pilot, and be thou his Mafter ;
Objcft the Sands to my mcrefcrioiis view.
Make found my Bucket, bore my Pump anew :
New caft my Plummet, make it apt to try
Wherethe Rocks lurk, and where the Quick- fands lie;
Guard thou the Gulf with love, my Galms with Care ;
Cleanfe thou my fraught 5 accept my flender Fare ?
RefreQi theSea-fick paffenger ; cut (hort
His Voyage ; land him in his wifhed Port :
Thou, Thou, whom winds and ftormy feas obey.
That through the deep gav*ft grumbling Ifr'el way.
Say to my foul, be fafc» and then mine eye
ShaH fcori) grim death, although grim death fiand by.
Othou whofe ftrength- reviving Arm didcherifh
Thy finking Peter ^ at the point to perifb.
Reach fonh thy hand, or bid me tread the wave,
IHc come, I'le come : The voice that calls wiO fave.


Book 3. Emhlemei. 17]

|. A M B R O S. Apol. poft. pro David Cap. 3.

The confluenct ef lufl miles a great tempefi, which in thi
ft A difiurbetb the jex-fmng foul, that reafon cannot govern it

J. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 35.

ITc labour in the boyfteroiu fea I Thoufimdefi upon theflffTi
gnd fcefi our dangers : Give va grace to hold a middle courf
beitvixt ScylJa and CharybdU, that both dangers efcapedy w
ma) arrive at our Portfecure*


My foul, the feas arc rough, and thou a ftranger
In thefc falfecoafts ; O keep aloof ; there's danger;
Caft forth thy plummet ; fee a rock appears ;
Thy (hip waats fca-room ; make it with thy teari.

M 2


Book y


': tluittU tvoJJdpretsct me intlie

Book j. EmlUms\ 175


JOB 14. 13;

that thou voouldjl bide me in the grave^that
thou would ft keep mefecret until thy wrath
lepaH !

O Whither ffiall I flic ; what path untrod
Shan I feek out to fcapc the Aiming rod
Ot my offended, of my angry God f

Where (hall I fojoum ? Whatkiad Tea will hide
My head from thunder ? Where fball I abide.
Until his flamei be quench 'd or laid afide ?

What, if myfeetfliould take their hafty flight.
And feek proteftion in the /hades of night ?
Alas, no (hades caa blind the God of Light.

What, if myfoullhould takethewingsof day.
And find fome defart ? If fhe fprings awayi
The wings of vengeance clip as faft as they.

What, if fome folid rock fhould entertain
My frighted foul ? Can folid rocks reftrain
,The ftroke of Juftice, and not cleave in twaip ?

Nor Sea, nor Shade, nor Shield, nor Rock, nor Cave,
Nor filent Defarts, nor the fullen Grave,
What flame-ey'd firy means to fmite, can fave.

The Seas win part. Graves open. Rocks winrplit;
The Shield win cleave ; the frighted Shadows flit ;
Where Juftice aims, ^her fiery darts rauft hit.

M 3 No

^74 Emhlemes. Book 3,

No, no, if ftcra«brow'd vengeance means to thunder,
There is no place above, beneath, nor under.
So clofe, but witU unlock, or rive in funder.

'Tis vain to flee ; 'tis neither here nor there
Can fcape that hand, until that hand forbear;
Ah me ! Where is he not, that's every where ?

'Tis vanity to flee ; till gentle mercy (hew

Her better eye, the farther off we go.

The fA/ing of Juftice deals the mightier blow.

Th* ingenuous child, correfted, doth not flic .
His angry mother's hand, but clings more nigh.
And quenches with his tears her flaming eye.

Shadows are faithlcfs, and the rocks are falfe ;
No trufl in brafs, no truft in marble walls ;
Poor cots are even as fafc as Princes halls.

Great God, there is no fafety here below :

Thou art my Fortrefs, though thou iecm'fl my foe,

'Tis thou that ftrik'ft the ftroke muft guard the blow.

Thou art my God ; by thee I fall or ftand ;
Thy grace hath giv*n me courage to withftand
All tortures, but my confcience and thy band,

I know thy Juftice is thy felf ; I know,
- Jaft God, thy very felf is Mercy too ;
If not to thee, where ? Wither fhould I go ?

Then work thy will ? If paffion bid me flee,
■ . My reafon (hall obey; my wings fliall be

^frecchc out no farther then from th^'e to thee.


Book 2 Emhlemes. 17 j

S. AUGUST. inPfal. 33.

Whhbtrflie I ? To vfhit place can IfafeljJSe ? To rohtt
mountain ? To Vfbxt den ? To what flrong houje } What Cafik
P)all Ihold? Wbatroalis fmllbcldmif Wbitberfoever Igo^my
feJf folloroeth me : For jobatfoever tbou fieft, man, tbou
mai/i. But tby oron confcience : Wktrefoever O Lord I ^o^ I find
tbee, if angry, a ^vingor ; // appiafed, a Redeemer : Wbat
Wi) have J,but to flie from tbet to tbet I That fboumdifi avoid
tby God J addrefs tbee to tby Lord,

EPIG. 12.

Hath vengfancc found thee ? Can rhy fears command
No rocki to (hield thcc from her thund'ring handi*
KnowVt thou not where to fcapc ? I'll tell thee where;
My foul make clean thy confcience ; hide thee there.
M 4




Book 3.


Are not my daues fe^'Teafe the.i.nnd
■done that I mat/ be^'ayh fns a lud'

Book 3. Emhkmes: 177


JOB 10. 10.
Are not my Jays feiv^> Ceafe then , and let
nte alone, that I may lexm'il my [elf a little.

MY Glaft is half nnrpcnt 5 Forbear t'arrcft
My thriftlcfs day too foon : my poor requeft
Is thai my glafs may run but out the reft.

My time-devoured minutes will be done
Without thy help; fee, fee how fvvift they run •
Cut not my thred before my thred be fpun.

The gain'i not great I purchafe by this ftay ;
What loll fuftain'ft thou by fo fmall delay,
To whom ten thoufand yean are but a day ?

■ My following eye can hardly make a fhift
To count ray winged hours ; they fly for^ffift^
They fcarce deferve the bounteous name of gift.

The fecret wheels of hurrying Time do give
So (hort a warning, and fo faft they drive.
That I am dead before I feem to live.

'And what's a Life ? a weary Pilgrimage,
Whofe glory in one diy doth fill the ftagc
With Child-hood, Man-hood, and decrepit Age.

And what's a Life ? the flour Ifhing array
Of the proud Summer meadow, which taday
JVears her green plulli, and is to morrow hay.

And what's a Life? Ablaft fuftein'd with cloathing.
Maintain d with food, retain d with vile felMdathing,
Thea weary of it fclf, again'd to nothing.


178 Emhlemesi Book

Read on this dial, how tht (hades devour

My (hort-Iiv'd winters day : hour eats up hour ;

Alas, the total's but from eight to four.

Behold thefe Lillies (which thy hands have made

Fair copies of my life, and open laid

To view) how foon they droop, how foou they fade !

Shade not that dial, night will blind too fooa ;
My non-agM day already points to noon ;
How fimpie is my fuit ! how fmall my boon !

Nor do I beg this flender inch, to while

The time away, or fafely to beguile

My thoughts with joy ; her's nothing worth a fmile.

No, no : *ci$ not to pleafe my wanton ears
With frantick mirth, I beg but hours, not years ;
And what thou giv'ft me, I will give to tears.

Draw not that foul which would be rather led !
That Seed has yet not broke my ferpents head ;

(hall I die before my fins are dead ?

Behold thefe raggs ; am I a fitting gueff

To taft the dainties of thy royal feaft.

With hands and face unwalh'd, ungirt, unbleft ?

Firft, let the Jordan ftreams (that find fupplies
From the deep fountain of my heart) arife.
And cleanfe my fpots, and clear my leprous eyes.

1 have a world of fins to be lamented ;

I have a fca of teais that muft be vented :
O fparc till then ) and then I die contented.


Book 3^ Emhlemes. 179

S. AUGUST, lib. de Civit. Dei, Cap. 10.

The time wherein tot live, is tihen from the fpice of our
life', and tobit nmiineth^ is diilj niiie lejs And lefs, info,
much thxt the time of our life is nothing but a ^^jfige to

S. GREG. lib. 9. cap. 44. 10. Job.

As moderite Afflictions bring tars, fo immoderate tihs Awa,^
teirs \ infomucb tbit forrovf bdcom;th no forroTo, robicblviU
loroing, up the mind of the iffliied^ tihetb atosy the Jenfe ef
the ifflihion.

E P I G. 13.

Fear*rt thou to go, when fuch an Arm invites thee ?
Drcad'fc ihou thy loads of fin ? or what affrights thee?
If thou begin to fear, thy fear begins :
Fool, can he bear thee Lence, atd not thy fins ?


Em Hemes. Book 3.


OA that they ivzrt •wife , then theu rrould. under-
-ibxnd thur; Thev nvtdd ccnjlder tlietr latter end

Book 3. Emllemes* 181


D EU T. 31. 29.

that men were voife, and that they under"
flood this, that they would confider their
latter end.

Flejh. Spirit,

Fh W THAt means my fifters eye foofc to pafs

VV Through the long entry of that Optick gUfi ?
TcUme; whatfecret virtue doth invite
Thy wrinkled eye to fuch unknown delight ?

3p, It helps the fight, makes thingi remote appear
In perfeft View ; It draws the objects near.

El, What fenfe. delighting obje^s doft thoB fpie?
What doth that GIa(s prefent before thine eye ?

Sp. I fee thy foe, my reconciled friend,
Grim Death, even fcanding at the Glaffes en,4 :
His left hand holds a branch of Palm ; his r)gfat
Holds forth a two-edg'd fword. Fl. A prppcr fight !
And is this all ? Doth thy Profpcclivc pleafe
Th' abafed fancie with no (hapes but thefe ?

Sp. Yes, I behold the darkened Sun bercav'n
Of all his light, the battlements of Heav'n
Sweltering in flames ; the Angel-guarded Son
Of glory on his high Tribunal-Throne ;
1 fee a Brimftone Sea of boylingfire.
And Fiends, with knotted whips of flaming wire,
Tort'ring poor foulj, thar knafh their teeth in vain,
And gnaw their flame- tormented tongues for pain.
Look, fiftcr, how the queazy-ftomack'd Graves
Vomit their dead^ and how the psrplc waves


I Sir Emhlemes. Book 3.

Scaird their confumclefs bodies, ftrongly curfing
All wombs for bearing, and aU paps for nurfing.

f;. Can thy diftemper*d fancy take delight
In view of tortures? thefe are (howi f affright:
Look in this glafs triangular ; look here.
Here's that will raviOi eyes. Sp, What fecft thou there?

Fh The world in colours, colours that dittain
The cheeks of Protem, or the filken train
Of Flora's Nymphs ; fuch various forts of hiew.
As Sun-confronting Iris never knew :
Here, if thou pleafe to beautifie a town.
Thou maift ; ar with a hand, turn c upfide down ;
Here maift thou fcant or widen by the raeafure
Of thine own will ; make fliort or long at plcafurc:
Here maift thou tire thy fancy, and advife
With (hows more apt to pleafe more curious eyes.

//». Ah fool ! thatdot'ft on vain, on prcfent toys.
And difrefpe^'ft thofc true; thofc future joys !
How ftrongly are thy thoughts befooi*d, alas.
To dote on goods that perifti with thy glafs !
Nay, vaniHi with the turning of a hand !
Were they but painted colours, it might ftand
With painted reafon that they might devote thee j
But things that have no being tobefot thee f
Forefight of future torments is the way
To baulk thofe ills which prefent joys bewray.
As thou haft fool'd thy felf, fo now come hither.
Break that fond glafi, and let's be wife together.


Book 3. Emllemes. 183

$. B O N A V E N T. de contemptu feculi.

O ihxx nun would be rvife^ unJerftandy and fore fee. Be wife,
to know three things : The multitude of thofe that are to bt
damned : the few number of tbofe that are to befived ; and
the vanity of tranfitorj tbinp : Vnderfiand three things , the
multitude of fins, the omiffion of good things^ and the hfs
of time ; Forepe three things^ the danger of deatk^ the lafi
judgment, and eternal punijhmtnt*

fiPIG. 14.
What, Soul, no further yet ? what nev'r commence
Matter in Faith ? Still batchelour of Senfe ?
Is't infufficiency ? Or what has made thee
OrcQip thy loft degree ? thy lufti have ftaid thee.



Book 3*


^My kfc i^ If^-t^ Tvitk ^jrdf and

Book 3. Emllemes. 18 j


PSALM. 30. 10-

My life is fpenf with griefs and my years with

WHitfaflea Star rul'd ray untimely birth.
That would not lend my days one hour of Mirth ?
Ho* oft have tbcfe bare kaecs been beat to gala
The flendcralffls of one poor fmik, in vain ?
H3W ofccD, cixU with the faftidioas light.
Have my faint lips: imptor'd the (hades of night ?
How often have my nightly torments pray'd
For iingring twilight, glutted with the fliade ?
Day worfe then night, night worfe then day appcarf,'
In tears I fpend my nights, my days in tears :
I moan unpiti'd, groan without relief,
There is co end nor meafure of my grief.
The fmiling flow'r falutes the day ; it grows
llRtouch'd with care ; it neither fpics nor fows I
O that rav tedious life were like this flow'r.
Or freed from grief, or finiih'd with an hour :
Why was I born ? Why was I born a man i*
And why proportioa'd by fo large a fpan ?
Or why fufpended by the common lor.
And being born to die, whydielnot?
Ah rac ! Why is my forrow- wafted breath
Dcni'd the eafis privilcdgeof death ?
The branded flave that tugs the weary oare.
Obtains the Sabbath of a welcome ihorc ?
His ranfom*d ftripcs are heal'd, his native foil
Sweetens the mem'ry of his forreiga toil :

N But

1 8 (5 Emhlemes. Book 3,

But ah ! my forrows are not half fo blcft ;

My labour finds no point, my pains no reft :

1 barter Tighs for tears, and tears for gioans.

Still vainly rolling SiLypheaiiftones:

Thou juft obfcrver, of our flying hours;

That, with thy Adamantine fangs, devours

The brazen monuments of rcnown'd Kingj,

DfDth thy glals ftaad ? Or by thy moulting wings

Ucapt to flie ? If not, \«rhy doft thou fptre

A willing breaft ; a brcaft that ftands fo fair ?

A dying breaft, that hath but only breath

To beg a wound, and ftrength to crave a death ?

Q thac the pleafed Hcav'ns would once diffolve

Thefc flelhly fetters, that fo faft involve

My hamp'red foul ; then would my foul be blefl

Trom all thefe ills, and wrap her thoughts in reft :

Till then, my days are months, my months arc yearS;

My years are ages to be fpcnt in tears :

My griefs entailed upon my waftful breath.

Which no recovery can cut off, but death.

Breath drawn in cottages, * puft out in thorns.

Begins, continues, and concludes in groans.


Book 3. Emhlemes. 187

INNOCENT, de vilitate condit. humana?.

Owho wiU s^ive mine eyes a fountain of texrs^ that Imjy
bewail my mifsrable ingrr[s of mxns cor.iition\ xhfrfulprtu
grefs of mins conv^rfixion^ the damnable f^refs in mans difo*,.
luxion ? / wiU confidt^r with teirs, robereof man was made^
vohit man doth^ and what man it to do '. Alof, he it formsd of
earth, conceived in ftn, born to punijhmsnt : Hd doth evil things
tohich are not lawful \ he doth filthy things, which are not
decent ; He doth viin things^ which are not expedient.

EPIG. i^

My heart. Thy life's a debt by Bond, which bears
A fccret date ; the uie is Groans and Tears :
Plead not ; ufurious Nature will have aU,
As wen the lufreftai the Principal.
N 2


Emlletnesi Book 3.-


^lyjauU hath cauetetlto dcfire thy ■

judgments .]> fj! ifc- . i-^^ r ,




ROM. 7: 23.

J fee another Law in my members warring a*
gainsi the Law of my mind, and bringing
me into captivity to the Law of fin.

OHow my will is hurried too and fro,

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