Francis Quarles.

Emblems, divine and moral, together with hieroglyphicks of the life of man online

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There's none there's none (hall know but heav'n and

Groans frefh'd with vows,.and vows made fait with tears.

Unfcale his eyes, andfcale his conquer'd ears;'

Shoot up the bofom Aiafis of thy defire,

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.




Book 3.

/llv Soul kath ^icjiivd tkc£ in tha nt^kt

Book 3. Emblems, 129


I S A I H 26. 6.

My foul hath de fired thee in the night,

GOod God X what horrid darknefs doth fur round
My groping fou! ! how are my fenfos bound
In utter fhades, and muffled from the light,
Lurk in the bofom of t'cnr«il night !
The bold-fac'd lamp of heav'ncan £eA and rife 5
And with his morning glory fill the eyes
Of gazing mortals ; his vid:orious ray
Can chafe the fhadows and reftore the day :
Kight's bafhful emprefs, though fhe often wain,
As oft repeats her darknefs, primes again 5
And with her circling horns aoth re-embrace
Her brother's wealth, and orbs her filver face.
But ah ! my fun, deep fwallow'd in his fall,
Is fet, and cannot fhine, nor r^ife at all :
My bankrupt wain can beg nor borrow light j
Alas ! my darknefs is perpetual night.
Falls have their riiings, wainings have their primes,
And defpVate forrows wait their better times :
Ebbs have their floods, and autumns have their fprings •
All ftates have changes hurried with the fwings
Of chance and time, ftill riding to and fro :
Terreftrial bodies, and celeilial too.
How often have 1 vainly grop'd about,
With lengthened arms to find a paflage out,
That I might catch thofe beams mine eye defires,
And bathe my foul in thofe celeflial fires !
Like as the haggard, cloifter'd in her mew,
To fcour her downy robes, and to renew


130 Emblems. Book 3

Her broken flags, preparing t'ovcrJook

The tim'rous mallard at the iliding brook,

Jets oft from perch to perch 5 from ftock to ground j

Jrom ground to window^ thus fiirveyii.g round

Her dove-befeather'd prifon, till at h^ngth

(Calling her noble birtli to mind, and firength

Whereto her wing was bornj her ragi/ed beak

Kips off her janglingjcflcs, ftrive^ ro break

Her gingling fetters, and begins to bate

At ev'ry glimpfe, and darts at e\ \y grate :

Ev'n fo my weary foul, that long has bec^

An inmate in this tenament of fin, ^

Lock*d up by cloud-brow'd crior, which invites

My cJoifter'd thoughts to feed on black delights,

Kowfcorns her fhadows, and begins to dart

Her wing'd defires at thee, that only art

The fun /he feeks, whofe riling beams can fright

Thefe dusky clouds that make fo dark a night:

Shine forth, great glory, fhine ^ that 1 may fee

Both how to loath my felf, and honour thee :

But if my weaknefs force thee to deny

Thy flames, yet lend the twilight of thine eye :

If I muft want thofe beams, I wifh 5 yet grant,

That I, at leafl, may wifh thofe beams, 1 want.


Book 3* Emblems. 131

S. AUGUST. Soliloqu. cap. 3 3.

^here - was a great dark cloud of vanity before mine
eyes^ fo that I could not fee thefim of j?iftice and the
light of truth : Ibei72g the fo72 of darknefs, ivas in-
volved in darknefs: Ilovedmy darknefs^hccaufe Ikne-w
not thy light : Iivas bli?idy and loved my blindnefs^ a^id
did ivalk from darkjiefs to darknefs : buty Zordy thou
art my God^ ivho haft led ?ne from darknefs and the
fiado-w of death 5 haft called me i72to this glorious lights
and behold^ I fee.

My foul, chcar up ; what if the night be lonp, 1
Heav'n finds an car when linncrs find a tongue ;
Thy tears are morning fhow'rs heav'n bid me fay,
When ^eHr^s cock begins to crow, 'tis day.



Book 3.

rny /iW a/v net /lu/ /7\> m M^r" J*/'' ^ .j- .


Book 3 . Emblems, 133


PSALM 69. 3.

Lord^ thou knowejl my fooUjlonefs^ ajid ///y
Jim are not hid from thee,

SEeft thou this fulfom idiot ; in what meafure
He feems tranfported with the antick pleafure
Of childifh baubles? Can'ftthou but admire
The empty fulncfs of his vain defire ?
Can'ft thou conceive fuch poor delights as thefe
Can fill th' infatiate foul of man, or pleafe
The fond afpeft of his deluded eye ?
Reader, fuch very fools are thou and I :
Falfe puffs of honour ^ the deceitful ftreams
Of wealth 5. the idle, vain, and empty dreams
Of pleafure, are our traffick, and cnfnare
Our fouls, the threefold fubjefl of our care 5
We toil for trafh, we barter folid joys
Por airy trifles, fell our heav*n for toys :
We catch at barley grains, whilil pearls ftand by
Defpis'd 5 fuch very fools are thou and I.
Aim'ft thou at honuur ? does not the idigt /liake it
In his left hand ? fond man, ftep forth and take it :
Or would'ft thou wealth ? lee now the fool prefcnts thee
With a full basket, if fuch wealth contents thee :
Would'll thou take pleafure ? if the fool unftride
His prauncing (laliion, thou may'ft up and ride i
Fond man, fuch is the pleafure, wealth and honour
The earth affords fuch fools, as doat upon her 3
Such is the game whereat earth's idiots fly •
Such idiots, ah ! fuch fools are thou and I :


134 ILnihlems. Book 3,

Had rebel man's fool hardinefs extended

Kg farther than himfclf, and there had ended,

It had bcenjull ; but thus enrag'd to fly

Upon th' eternal eyes of Majefty,

And drag the fon of glory from the breaft

Of his indulgent father 5 to arreft

His great and facred perfon ; in difgrace

To fpitand Tpawl upon his fun-bright face 5

To taunt him with bafe terms, and being bound

To fcourge his foft, his trembling fides ^ to wound

His head with thorns • his heart with human fears j

His hands with nails, and his pale flank with fpears j

And then to paddle in the purer ftream

Of his fpilt blood, is more than moft extream :

Great builder of mankind, canft thou propound

All this to thy bright eyes, and not confound

Thy handy work ? O ! canft thou chufe but fee,

That mad'ft the tie? can ought be hid from thee ?

Thou feeft our perfons. Lord, and not our guilt 5

Thou feeft not what thou tnay'ft, but what thou wilt :

The hand that form'd us is inforc'd to be

A fcreen fet up betwixt thy work and thee :

Look, look upon that hand, and thou flialt fpie

An open wound, a thorough fare for thine eye j

Or if that wound be closM, that paflagc be

Deny'd between thy gracious eye and me.

Yet view the fear ^ that fear will countermand

Thy wrath : O read my fortune in thy hand.


Book 3 . E?72blems. 135

S. C H R Y S. Horn. 4. in Joan.

Fools feem to abound in moealth^ 'when they 'voa7it dl
things 5 they feem to enjoy ha/pnefSy ivhsn indeed
they are only mo(t 777iferahle j neither do they under-
hand that they are deluded by their fancy ^ till they
^bs delivered frora their folly.

S. GREG. inMor.

2^y fo rnuch the more are 'xe inwardly fjclip, by
how much -zve ftrii'e to feem outivardly ivife.

E P I O. 2.

Rebellious fool, ^"hat has thy folly done ?
Coii'r j'li'd thy G^'i, v^.nd crucify \1 his Son?
Row fwecriy has the I ord of life decciv*^ thee / (thee.
Tnou Hicud'lc his biovy.i, c ^ that fntd blood ha^j idv'd



Em If ferns,

Book 3.

,h of^t^ mercf i^fi me^ O Lcrtifcrlam. nrakc

OJJtIimIc mcfyrny If^mfJ arc vcxcxVf: fz .
" ' iJiy

Book 3. Emblems. 137

PSALM 6.2.

Have mercy ^ Lord, upon me^ for I am weak >
hord^ heal yne^jor my bones are vexed,

SoiiL J^fiis*

Soul AH ! fon of "David, help. Jef. What finfui cry
■^ Implores the Ion of Davidl Soul. It is I.

jfef. Who art thou? SotiLO\i\ a deeply wounded breaft
That's heavy laden, and would fain have reft.

jfef I have no fcraps, and dogs joiuft not be fed.
Like houfhould children, with the ch 11 drens bread.

Soul. True, Lord j yet tolerate a hungry whelp
To lick their crumbs ; O Ton of David^ help.

jfef. Poor foul, what ail'i^ thou? Soul. O I burn I fry,
I cannot roft, I know not where to fly,
To find fome eafe 5 I turn my blubber 'd face
From man to mart • I rowl from place to place
T*avoid my tortwrcs, to obtain relief,
But ftill am dogg'd and haunted with my grief :
My mid- night torments call the fluggifh light,
And when the morning's come, they woo the night.

jfcf Surceafe they tears,&fpeak thy free deiires.(fires.

4$'(9.Quench,qucnch my flames,&fwage thofefcorching

y^y.CanR thou believe, my hand can cure thy grief ?

.Si??//. Lord, [believe ^ Lord, help my unbelief

Jef. Hold forth thine arm and lot my fingers try
Thy pulfe 3 where chiefly doth thy torment lie ?

ScuL IrDni head to foot ^ itr^igns in ev'ry part,
But plays the'd tyrant in aiy heart.

G 2 ' 7'f.

138 Emblems. Book 3 .

j?f Canff thou cliqelf, canii relifh wholfom food ?
How l^ands thy tafte ? -5' 7/, To nothing that is good:
AH Cnful trafli, and earth's unfavVy lluiF
I can dicc^T, and relish well enough.

jfpfiis. Is not thy 4)'ood as cold as hot, by turns ?

Soi;}. Cold to what's good j to what is bad it burns.

^f9f. How old's thy gri«f ? Soni. I took it at the fall
With eating fruit. J'eJ. 'lis epidemical:
Thy biood's infedtvi, and the infe6iion fpruBg
prcrn a bad liver ; 'tis a fever (trong
And full of death, unlefs with prefent fpeed,
A vein be open'd : thou muft die or bleed.

Soul. O I am faint arwil fpent : that launce that fhall
Let forth my blood, lets forth rriy life withal:
My foul wants cordials, and has greater need
Of blood, than (being fpent fo farj to bleed :
I faint already 5 if I bleed, I die,

jfef. 'lis either you muft bleed, fick foul, or I :
My blood's a cordial He that fucks n:y veins,
iShall CiQ2A<S'z his ov/n, and conquer greater pains
Than thefc : chear up 3 this precious blood of mine
Shall cure thy grief j Uiy heart fliall bleed for thine.
ifcelieve, and view mc with a faithful eye,
'J hy foil J Ihall neither langwifti, bleed nor die.


Book 3. Emhlems, 139

S. AUGUST, lib. 10. ConfeiT.

Lofd^ he merciful unto me : ah me l behold, T bide
not my -zvoiiads : thou art a ^>h]]fici.aj?y and I amfick 5
thon art merciful, and I am mifcrable,

S. GREG. inFaftoral.

O ivifdom, 'Zvith how fiveet an art doth thy wiwe.
a7id oil refer e health to my healthlefsfonl l hc-w pov>
erf ally merciful, how mercifully fowerful an thou I
iHj'-iverfiil for 7ne, merciful to met

E P I G. 5.

Canft thou Vc fick, and fuch a dodlor !)y ?
I'hou cand m t live, unlcis thy do^^lor die :
Strange kii d ot grict, that finds no med'cine good
To Twagc her pains, but the phylician*s blood!




Book 3.

Xtcok upon m^ a/flictwn.and tni^cru
atid fifr^ivc me ailmtf Smtts \

/-f ^

Book 3. Emblems, \a^\


PSALM 25. 18.

hoik up07i my offliBion and my pain^ and for^
give all my fms.


DOth work and ftokes ? both lafh and labour too ?

What more could Edom^ or proud Ajhur do ?
Stripes after ftripes ^ and blows fucceeding blows !
Lord, has thy fcourge no mercy, and my woes
No end? my pains no eafe? no intermiflion ?
Is this the ftate, is this the fad condition
Of thofe that truft thee? will thy gcodnefspleafe
T' allow no other favours ? none but thefe ?
Will not the rhetVick of my torments move ?
Are thefe the fymptoms, thefe the figns of love ?
Is*t not enough, enough that I fulfil
The toilfome task of thy laborious will ?
May not this labour expiate and purge
My fin without the addition of a fcourge ?
Look on my cloudy brow, howfaft it raina^
Sad (bowers cf fweat, the fruits of fruitlefs pains :
Behold thefe ridges, lee what purple forrows
Thy plow has made 5 O think upon thofe forrows
That once were thine j O wilt thou not be woo'd
To mercy by the charms of fvA'cat and blood ?
Canft thou torget that drowfy mount wherein
Thy dull difciplcs fiept? was not my fin
There ptmidiM in thy foul ? did not this brow
I'hcn fwjat in thine ? were not thefe drops enow ?
Romemlier G Igotha^ where that fpring-tide
O'crflow'd thy fov'reign facramentiii fide ;

^ 4 There

J42 Emblems. Book 3.

1 here was no fin, there was no guilt in thcc, (me.

T hat caus'd tho^c pains ^ thou fvvcar'ii-, thou bled'il for

Wfistticre not blood enough, when one fmaJl drop

Had ^ow'r to rarfom thoufand worlds, and flop

'1 he moiuh of juflice ? Lord, I bled before

In thy <\tt'^ wourds^ can jufiice challenge more ?

Or doil thou vainly labour to hedge in

'J. l.y lollcsfrom my fides ? my blood is thin,

I^id thy free bounty fcorns fuch eafy thrift j

Ko, no, thy blood came not as love but gift.

Eut muft 1 ever grind ? and muil I earn

>-t thing but (Iripes? O wilt thou difaitern

"^ he rcil thou gav'il ? haft thou perus'd the curfe

Thou laid'ft on j^dani's Fall, and made it worfe ?

' ft nil thou repent of mercy? heav'n thought good

Loll man ll^ould feed in fweet j not work in blood :

Tv'hy doit thou wound th' already wounded breall ?

Ah me ! my life is but a pain at beft :

• c.iTi but dying dult : jjiy day's a fpan 3

\\ hat pleafure tak'it thou in the blood of man?

Spare, fpare thy fcourge, and be not foauiiere :

Jiend fewer ftrokes, or knd more ftrength to bear.


Book 3 . Etnblems. 14-3

S. BERN. Horn. 8i. in Cant.

Aiiferable man ! 'who foall deliver me from the ap-
f roach of t hi i (hamefiU bondage '< lam a vnferahlemauy
hut a free man.^^ fr^e^ becaufe a mon ; mijerablc, le-
caiife a fir V ant : in regard of my bcndage^.m.'jcfible j
in regard of my zmll, incxcu fable : J or my ixill^ that
'vcas free^ he/laved it felftofin^ by af]entii:g to fm ^
for he that committeth fin^ isthefervant tofw,-


Tax not thy God : thine own defaults did urge
This two-fold punifliment : the mill, the fcourge.
Thy fin's the author of thy felf-tormenting :
Thou grind'il for finning ^ fcoarg'd for not repenting.

G 5 •

J 44



Book 3.


l.UL lUl/t

made rm- a^ th^ C/ai/. Wilt th^tt brit^ |
rm uito diJt uifdin . do/; . i^^.j

Book 3. Emblems. 145


JOB 10. 9. .

Remember I befeech thee^ that tkou baft made
7116 as the clay\ a?id wilt then bring rae to
duji again,

'T'HUS from the bofom of the new-ijiade earth

*■ Poor man was delv'd and had his unborn birth 5
The fame the ftufiF, the felf-farre hard doth trim
The plant that fades, the beafttha dies, ar^lhim:
One was their fire, one was their common, mother,
Plants are his fiders, and the beaR his brother,
The elder too 5 beaRs draw the felf-fame breathy
Wax old alike, and die the felf-fame death :
Plants grow as he, with fairer robes arrayM :
Alike they flourifh, and alike they fade:
The bcalt in fcnfe exceeds him, and in growth ;
The thrce-ag'd oak doth thrice exceed them both :
Why look'il: thou then fo big, thou little fpan
Of earth ^ what art thou more In being man?
J, but my great creator did infpire
T\Iy chofen earth, with the diviner fire
0\ reafon 5 gave me jadgmentanda will ;
That, to know good j this, to choofe good from ill :
He puts the reins of pow'r in my free hand,
A jarifdi^lion over fea and land,
He gave me art to lengthen out my fpan
Of life, and made me ail, in [)«:ing m m :
I, but thy paflion commiried trcafuii :
Againll the facred perfon of thy realon :
Tny jtidgment is corrupt, perverlc t'ncy ;
I'hat knows no good, iUiJ this makes choice oi ill •


] ^6 Emblems, Book 3 .

The greater height fends dovvn the deeper fall 5
j\rd good dcclin'd turns bad, rurns wori't of all.
Say then, proud inch of iivini^ earth, what can
Thy greatnefs claim the more ii; heino man ?

but my foul tranfccnds the picch of nature,
Forn up by th' image of her high creator ^
C3ut-bravcs the life of rcafon, and bears down
Her w^xen wings, kicks oh-* her brazen crown.
My heart's a living temple t' entertain

The kins of plorv, and his olorious train :
How can I mend my title then ? where can
Ambition ^A\^t a higher ilile than man ?
Ah I but that image is defac'd and fcil'd •
Her temple's raz'd, hcra]tar*s all defil'd-
Her vcffels are polluted and difdain'd
With loathed luft, her ornaments prophan'd •
Her cibfbrfaken lan»ps, and hollow'd tapers
Put out 5 her incenfe breatlis unfav'ry vapours :
Why fweU'ft thou then To big, thou little fpan
Of earth? what art thou more in being man ?
Eternal potter, whole bl.=;;i} hands did lay
Aly coarie foundation from a fed of clay,

1 hou know'ii my flcnder veffel's apt to leak 5
I'hou know'it my brittle temper's prone to break 5
Are my bones brazil, or my ?i.^?i\ of oak ?

O, mend what thou hall m;.de, what i have broke:
X-ook, look with gc:ntle eyes, and in thy day
CJf vengeance, Lord, remember I am clay.


Book 3. Emblems. 147

S. AUGUST. Solioq. 92.

Shall I ask, "xho mademeX It ixasthoti that madeft
mCy "without -iihom ncthwg was made : thou art my
maker, and I thy ^vork. I thank thee, my Lord God^
hy "^x'hom I live, andby nxhctf all things fiihjijl,be'
caufe thou madcjl me : I thank thee, O my potter, he-
caiife thy hands have made me^ because thy haiids have.
fonncd me*

^ ^ EPIG. 5.

Why well'll: tbou, man, puft up with fame and purfe ?
Th'art hctf. :• earrh, but born tc di^ the vvorfe :
Thou cijsiii'il from earth, to c?>rth thou muil return,
Aud art but earth call from the womb to th' urn.




■Book 3.

prcd'Ciirer of men trhy hari tJum set

Book 3. Emblems. 149-


JOB 7. 20.

/ have jinned: what (Jjall I do unto thee
O thou pre fewer of men? why doji thou Jet
me as a mark againjl thee ?

LOrd, I have done 5 and, Lord, I have mifdone 5
*Tis folly to conteft, to ftrive with one
That is too ftrong^ 'tis folly to afTail
Or prove an arm, that will, that muft, prevail.
IVe done,rve done 5 thcfe trembling hands have thrown
Their daring weapons down: the day's thine own;
Forbear to iTrike where thou haft won the field.
The palm, the palm is thine; I yield, I yield.
Thefe treach'rous hands that were (b vainly bold
To try a thrivelefs combat, and to hold
Self-wounded weapons up, are now extended
For mercy from thy hand j that knee that bended
Upon her guardlefs guard, dpth now repent
Upon this naked floor 5 fee both sre bent.
And fue for pity: O my ragged wound
Is deep and defp'rate, it is drench'd and drown 'd
In blood and briny tears: it doth begin
To ftink without, and putrify within.
Let that victorious hand that now appears
Juft in my blood, prove gracious to my tears : '
Thou great prefervcr of prefumptuous man.
What Ihall I do? what fitisfaction can
Poor dull and aflicsmake? Oif that blood
That yet remains unfhed, uhere half as good
As blood of oxen, if my death might be
An off'ring to atone my God and me,


150 Emblems Book 3."

I would difdain injurious life, and ftand
A fuitor to be wounded from thy hand.
But may thy wrongs be meafur'd by the fpan
Of life, or balanc'd with the blood of man ?
DS^o, no, eternal lin 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 3
Enlarge that foul, which bafe prefumption binds •
Thy jufHce cannot loofe what mercy finds :

thou that wilt not bruife the broken reed,

Rub not my fores, nor prick the wounds that bleed.

Lord, if thepeevifh infant-fights and flies,

With unpar*d weapons, ■^t his mother's eyes,

Her frowns (half mix'd with fmiles) may chance to fliew

An angry Icve-trick on his arm, or fo ^

Where, if the babe but make a lip and cry,

Her heart begins to melt, and by and by

She coaks his dewy cheeks 3 her babe flie bliffes,

And choaks her language with a thoufand kiffes 5

1 am that child: }o, here I protkate 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 trefpafs through a tear :
Then calm thine anger, and appear more mild j
Remember, th'art a farther, I a child.


Book 3. Emhiems, i^i

S. BERN. Ser. ;ii. in Cant.

Mifertible man ! ivho fiall deliver me from the re-
f roach of this pameful hcndngel I am 0% miferahle
man^ hut a freeman : free^ bccauf like to Gcd-^ mif-
erallc^ hecaufe agamfl God : O keefer of mankind^ -ivhy
haft thoufet me as a'mark agaiuft- thee Xthoti haft fet
me^ hecaufe thoti haft not h'uidred me : It is juft that
thy enemy ftjoald he my enemy ^ a*'d that he ivho re-
fugiieth thee, fioiild refugn me : I ivho ara agni?2ft
thee, am againjl my felf

EPIG. ^.

But formM, andjRght! but born, and then rebel!
How fmall a blaft will make a bubble fvvell ?
But dares the floor affront the hand that laid it ?
So apt is duft to fly in's face that made it.



Book 3,

M^refcrc hUcA thou thtrfacc,^
If^Ucj-t rthce f:n^ thine Cnerru^hlr jx ^

C^ ,


Book 3. Emblems, 153


JOB 13. 24.

Wherefore hidejl thou thy face^ and holdejl
me for thine enemy,

WHy doftthou fhade thy Jovely face? O why
Does that eclipfing hand To long deny
The fun-fhine of thy foul-enlivening 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 1 fee.

Thou art my life 5 if thou but turn away,

My life's a thpufand deaths : thou art my way :

Without thee, Lord, I travel not, but firay.

My light thou art; without thy glorious fight.
Mine eyes are darkened with perpetual night.
My God, thou art my way, my life, my light.

Thou art my way; I wander, if thou flie:
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 fee ;
To whom, or whither fhould my darknefs flee.
But to the light ? and who's that light but thee ?

My path is loft, my wand'ring fteps do ftray ;

I cannot fafely go, nor fafely ftay ;

Whom fhould I feek but thee, my path, my way ?


T^4 Emblerm Book 3.

O, I am dead : to whom fliall I, poor I,
, Repair? to whom fhalTnTy fad afhcsfly,
But life ? and where is life but in thine eye ?

And yet thou turn'fl away thy face, and fly'ft me 5
And yet I fue for grace, and thou deny 'ft me j
Speak, art thou ar^gry, Lord, or only try'ti me?


Unskreen thofe heav'nly lamps, or tccl me why
Thou n^adYt rhy face ? perhaps thou think'il: no eye
Can viev/ thofe Hames, and not drop down and ^lie.

If that be all, fhine forth and draw theenii^hV 5
Let me behold and die, for my deiire
Is, ^FlMiiiX'WkQ^ to peri 111 in that fire,

Death-conquer'd Laz^rm was redeemed by thee 5
If I am dead, Lord, fet death's pris'ner free j
Am 1 more fpent, or ftink I worle than he ?

If my puft life be out, give leave to tine

My fliamelefs fnuff at that bright bmp gf thine 5

O what's thy light the lefs for light'ning mine ?

If I have loft my path, great Shepherd fay,

Shall I ftill wander in a doubtful way ?

Lord, fhall a lamb of Ip'eh ftiecp-fold ftray ?

Thou art the pilgrim's path, the blind man's eye 5
The dead man's life : on thee my hopes rely ^
If thou remove, I err, I grope I die.

Difclofe thy fun-beams, clofe thy wings and ftay 5
See, fee how I am blind and dead, and ftray,
O thou that art my light, my life, my way. •


Book 3. Efnblems. i^^

S. AUGUST. SoHloq. cap. r.

Why dofl thou hide thy face ? happily thou imltfay,
none can jee thy face and live :ah! Lord^ let me die ^
that I rt I ay fee thee 3 let me fee thee^ that I may die:
I 'would not live ^ hut die 5 that I may fee Chrift^ I
defre death .5 that I may live ^xith Chrifl^ Idefpife life*

ANSELM. Med. cap. 5.

O excellent hidings ivMch is become my perfeBio7i I
ray God^ thou hidefi thy treafure^ to kindle my defire l
thov- hidefi thy pearly to inflame the feeker 3 thou de-
lay fi to give, that thou may^fi teach me to importtme 3
feem'Jl 720t to heary to make me prefevcre.

EPIG. 7.
If heavVs all-quick'ning eyes vouchfafe to fhine
Upon our foins, we (light 3 if not, we whine :
Our L".|U:no:Hal hearts ^ in never lie
Secure, beneath the tropicus of that eye.



Book 3,

. that niy Head tvert^ a'ate^'j, atiJ

Book 3. Emblems, 157

JER. 9. I.

that my head 'were waters^ and mine eyes
a fountain of tears^ that I might weep day
and night,

O That mine eyes were fprings, anc! could transform
Their drops to Teas 5 my iighs into a ftorm
Of zeal, and facred violence, wiiereia
This lab'ring veflel, laden with her fin,
Might fuffer fudden fliipwrack, a. d be fpilt
Upon that rock, where my drench'd foul may fit,
O'erwhelm'd with plenteous paflion: O, and there
Drop, drop, into an everlafting tear !
Ah me ! that cv'ry Aiding vein that wanders
Through this vaft ifle, did work her wild meanders

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