mind And no Tears fall but those of joy Which Nilus like while they orewhelm are kind IV. But though with all this pomp of words we prate And paint the happy glories Which grace the triumphs of a future State Yet sure we think 'em sensless stories The pageantry of some distempered Head Which fancies Pencil did delineate The broken visions of the living when they dream'd ' o th' dead That we are so loth to die Proceeds from infidelity For whatsoe're the mighty Men of Sense Those skulls of Axiome and Philosophy By reasons Telescope pretend t' evince Beyond this World we can no other see And not to be Worse than lifes greatest storm appears Than all its Hurricanes of hopes and fears So some baulkt Gamester who hath but one poor Stake Left of his Stock and knows not when he may Get more to keep in play Does his last chance with trembling take And fain he would the fatal throw delay The Box once lost to him for ever 's past away V. Or if we 're fully satisfied The Soul is to Divinity allied That its impenetrable hypostasis Is of a lasting and substantial make Which Death's arrest can never shake But from our scattered Ashes shall arise Bekindled with exhalted energies If this her fixt perswasion be Doubtless 't is guilt that makes us pale and grone When fate sends out the black Decree Of dissolution As a debauch't Gallant That 's just embarquing for a foreign Land ' Midst throngs of Creditors does worried stand Who for quick payment with wild fury rant So Conscience rallies up Of crimes the worst of Debts ten thousand Bills Embitters with new poysons Death 's ungrateful Cup And the departing Soul with shame and horror fills So that Mankind doth lye Under a sad necessity Of strong desire to live and wretched fear to die Which way so ere their faith they turn A forcible Dilemma's Horn Wounds them in each Hypothesis The Atheist would for ever live in this 'Cause there 's no other World the Theist 'cause there is By Mr. Walrond of All Souls An addition by another hand VI. But the true Christian whose firm Faith doth sway His Heart and Life who humbly doth obey That Gospel he believes and in good earnest makes Heaven his end and Holiness the way Wherein he constantly doth walk Whilst he thro' this low World his journey takes And leaves great things which others use to talk This gallant Man can Death outbrave Which if a Monarch fear that Monarch is a Slave Mean Slave is he who fears to die He lives yea dies in daily fear Death tho' far off he thinks and makes it near Afraid of every Man that passeth by Of every Beast and Bird and every Fly Of every Bit and every Draught Which is ever poysoned by his own dire thought Fain the poor Wretch would longer live And yet he fears what longer Life must give He dare not Eat he dare not Sleep Tho' thousand armed Guards strict watch do keep O're him the mighty Prisoner Day and Night They watch as if 't were to prevent his flight These aw'd with threats and hir'd with great rewards To keep him safe yet cannot save his breast From fears which still disturb his rest Alas the Tyrant fears those very armed Guards VII But the true Christian free From this ignoble painful slavery O're fear of Death has got the Victory And o're the love of Life and all that 's here Which this low Life to Mortals doth endear His Soul by Grace refin'd from drossie Earth From sordid Lusts and love of Sin Made mindful of its own high Birth It will not be confin'd within These narrow bounds of Matter and of Time But up into Eternity will clime With wings of Faith and fervent Love doth soar To the Aethereal Regions there to share Those Glories which our Lord is gone before For all his faithful Followers to prepare Our Lord who drove away dark shades of Night Brought Life and Immortality to light And with that darkness banisht fear And by that Light our minds did chear The Christian he doth teach to wait And long for Death that shall translate His Soul to its most blissful State And makes him patient to endure The cares of Life or miseries of old Age Even when the torturing Stone the Gout or Colick rage He bears with courage what he cannot cure VIII Not love of Life but hope of Heaven does give This courage and makes him content to live In midst of Racks and cruel Pain Who in the midst of joys counts Death his gain Strong and untir'd he acts th' allotted part Undauntedly he bears th' inflicted smart Not that he fondly cares still to repeat Lifes tedious Circle still to eat To Drink to Talk to Work and Sleep Still to roll the Stone up Hill The Stone which tumbles downward still Only he knows he must his Station keep Untill the General bids sound a Retreat And when he hears that joyful sound Gladly he doth himself prepare To march away and doth himself his breast make bare When Death draws nigh to give the healing wound He dare not on his Life commit a Rape Heaven is not taken by that Violence But he dare meet Death in the horrid'st shape He nothing fears from that kind Providence Which wisely orders all Axes and Halters Flames and Swords Whatever else we dreadful call What are they all but Bugbear words To fright weak Childish minds but cannot fright That Man of Wisdom and of Might The valiant Christian not afaid to die For Death is all those great words signifie IX If Death be all what does the good Man care Whether an Halter or a Quinsie choke And stop that breath which he doth freely yield Whether an Ax or Apoplexy give the Stroke The gentle Stroke of Death The good Man generously dare In a good cause die in the open Field As well as in his Bed give up his breath Nor does he fear the stormy Ocean's Wave In a Sea Monsters Paunch dare make his Grave Is unconcern'd whether he expire In some Malignant Fevers fire Or in the nobler flames of Martyrdom Elias-like he be conducted home O're all he is a Conqueror And somewhat more ' i th' midst of all he can in triump sing O Death where is thy Sting Of that long since thou was bereft For in our dying Lord that sting was left In stead whereof Death now hath got a Wing Which helps to waft the Heaven-born Soul on High When once releas'd from this dull earthly Clod There the free Soul to her own home doth fly For ever there to make her blest abode Where she no more doth fear to sin to smart or die But there she clearly doth behold her God Her God she there loves and enjoys eternally Midnight Meditations LOOK here my Soul how sparkling and how bright These Stars do shine in this cold frosty Night From the Sun's absence they advantage take Their native lustre visible
which reconciles The Savage Beasts and angry Elements Turns rage and fury into friendly smiles And mischief either conquers or prevents To him vvho doth the great Creator love The World of creatures all vvill harmless prove This Armour 's strong tho light a Coat of Mail Not to be pierc'd by Bullet or by Steel It gives a strength o're vvhich nought can prevail May I its force vvithin my breast but feel Fearless I 'le follovv vvhither Fate shall call Smiling I 'l bear vvhatever shall befall Place me on Northern Hills of frozen Snovv On vvhich the Pole-star doth directly stand There will I give the love and praise I owe To him whose love makes that a pleasant Land. 'Gainst frosts and Snows Love is the only charm These flames melt Snows these flames my breast shall warm Or throw me on the parched Lybian Sands Where flaming Sun-beams do the Trav'ler burn Love all Divine those scorching heats withstands Gods Love will Deserts to a Garden turn His Smiles his Words are Fountains Shades and Breeze Each place is Paradice when I have these No Winter frosts this holy Love shall chill No prosp'rous Summer's heat shall it abate But higher it shall flame and higher still Till it to Heav'n my Soul in Flames translate God's Love is all I crave in Heaven above On Earth below I only craves Gods Love. Lib. 1. Martial Epigram 6 tum AN Eagle once a Child aloft did bear The Child secure the Eagle most in fear Thus Caesars Lions sport them with their Prey The Hare in their wide Mouth doth safely play Which then the greater Wonder shall be thought A mighty Power each to pass hath brought Jove did the first the latter Caesar wrought For M. M. upon her Recovery when at Antwerp OH praise the Lord my Soul humbly adore The riches of his Grace which more and more To me his Handmaid hath been still exprest Let Love and Praise be equally encreast 'T was God who first did Life and Reason give By him I am preserv'd in him I live His Mercy and his Pow'r did lately save My Soul from Death my Body from the Grave 'T is just I to my God should wholly live Who hath renew'd the Life he first did give Thou that didst make me put my mind in frame Make me thy Servant who thy Creature am As thou hast lately made my Body whole So do much more for my more precious Soul. What thou hast wrought without now work within My pain is gone Lord cleanse me from my Sin Thy healthful Spirit upon me bestow That I in Grace may daily stronger grow So strengthen me that I may walk in ways Of Holiness and Peace through all my daies Till thou shalt take me hence to live above In endless Joys with thee the God of Love. Written on Dr. Patrick's Devout Christian given to a Friend IN Prayer the Tongue hath but the lesser part Devotion 's chiefly seated in the Heart This with our Lips we humbly must express And in our Lives by serious Holiness They who on Earth with Heart Lips Life adore Their God in Heav'n shall praise him evermore Whilst then our Pray'rs begin and end the Day Let 's daily live as strictly as we pray Au Epitaph design'd for that most excellently accomplisht and Publick-spirited Gentleman William Banks Esq of Winstantly in Lancashire who died at Chastleton in Oxfordshire Iuly 6. 76. UNder this Monument the Reliques lie Of a Great Man all that of him could die Who whilst he liv'd liv'd to the noblest ends To serve his God his Country and his Friends Wherefore his God his Friends his Country give Freedom from Death and make him still to live His Soul with God in Regions lives above In Regions like his Soul all Peace and Love With dearest Friends his precious Memory Lives fresh and fragrant nor with them shall die His grateful Country doth preserve his name Just Praises and true Tears Embalm the same His lovely Picture still hath Life and Breath In hopeful Children so small Power hath Death Over good Men who when they seem to yield Then like their dying Lord they win the Field Only the Grave in peace retains their Dust Until the Resurrection of the Just. Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit Nulli flebilior quam mihi On A. M. a tender Infant HEre Sweetness lies and Innocence whose Breath Was stopt by early not unfriendly Death She 's gone to rest just as she did begin Sorrow to know before she knew to sin Death that doth Sin and Sorrow thus prevent Is the next Blessing to a Life well spent ON Bishop WILKINS'S Picture Decemb. 30. 82. THis is his Shadow who was once the Glory And Pillar of our British Church whose Story Ages to come shall wondring read this Age Shall mourn his death tremble at its presage He was all that which makes men great and good But 's loss will make his Worth best understood His just Description I no more can give Than th' Painter can make this his Picture live His truer Picture lives within my mind And in the pious Works he left behind In both my sorrows some relief shall find Till his great Soul ere long I meet above Amongst blest Spirits in Heav'nly Joy and Love. True Beauty LET blind Admirers handsom Faces praise And graceful Features to great Honour raise The Glories of the red and white express I know no beauty but in Holiness If God of beauty be the uncreate Perfect Idea in this lower State The greatest beauties of an human mold Who most resemble Him we justly hold Whom we resemble not in flesh and blood But being pure and holy just and good May such a Beauty fall but to my share For Curious Shape or Face I ne're shall care On my Picture SEE here the Shadow of another Shade Which like its Picture soon away will fade To Worms and Moths a Portion soon will fall Both short-liv'd Copy and Original And yet rejoice my Friends since th' unseen mind Lives when dead Shades and Corps are lest behind And shall we be concern'd what will become Of fading Faces rotten Bones and Tomb Whilst th' unseen Mind whose form no art can draw Exempted is from Deaths severer Law Virtue doth Life and lasting Beauty give Virtue and virtuous minds for ever live With God they live in joys together where Of losing God Joys Friends is no more fear Rejoice then Friends this Glory make your choice Always do good always in God rejoice FINIS Books Written by Mr. John Rawlet B. D. and sold by Samuel Tidmarsh in Cornhil A Treatise of Sacramental Covenanting with Christ shewing the ungodly their contempt of Christ in their contempt of the Sacramental Covenant With a Preface chiefly designed for the satisfaction of Dissenters and to exhort all men to Peace and Vnity An Explication of the Creed the Ten Commandments and the Lords Prayer with the addition of some Forms of Prayer A Dialogue betwixt two Prorestants in answer to a Popish Catechise called a short Catechism against all Sectaries plainly shewing That the Members of the Church of England are no Sectaries but true Catholicks and that our Church is a sound part of Christ's holy Catholick Church in whose Communion therefore the People of this Nation are most strictly bound in Conscience to remain The Christian Monitor containing an earnest Exhortation to an Holy Life with some directions in order thereto written in a plain and easie Stile for all sorts of people Poetick Miscellanies
Heart forgive Who pure and sober are in all their ways And in God's Service vow to spend their days Art thou but such a one thou art the Guest Whom Christ bids welcome to this Heavenly Feast With Love and Joy his Death Commemorate Whilst here thou feed'st and hereby Consecrate Thy self entirely to him and he will His promises and thy desires fulfill He 'll own thee for his Servant and bestow Such Blessings as thou needest here below Ev'n here he seals to thee Pardon and Peace And all thy Graces shall receive Increase Until at length he raise thee far above To taste the fullest Fruits of his dear love Where we no more shall need our Bread and Wine Ravisht with glorious Sights and Joys Divine Wherefore who in those Heavenly Joys would share To sup with Christ on Earth let them prepare FOR EARLY RISING ON A Lords day Morning THis day our blessed Lord did early rise Let all his pious Servants do likewise His good Disciples rose before the light That his dead Body they with spices might And tears embalm then let devotion raise Us up to give our God and Saviour praise Thus let our Songs of praise shorten the night Till we shall come into that heavenly light When we shall hear no more of nights and days No more shall cease to love rejoyce and praise O blest employments these Saints truly blest Who thus emploi'd enjoy eternal rest This holy Rest let me this day begin Resting to God from business care and Sin. And let me in thy day and service find Such pleasure and such profit to my mind As may excite me all the following Week And my whole Life my dearest Lord to seek Not in a Garden or a Cave of Stone But in the Heavens where on his glorious Throne He doth exalted sit at God's right Hand Thousands of Angels round about him stand There free from sin and sorrow sloth and sleep There let me an eternal Sabbath keep Morning Thoughts BOth God and Satan by my Bed-side stand My Morning-thoughts are crav'd on either hand He that gets these is like to have the day What then shall God be empty sent away No Lord but let the whole made holy be By these First-fruits I offer up to thee I praise thee for this last Nights quiet rest The Peace and Safety wherewith I am blest I praise thee my good God that to my sight Once more thou hast restor'd the Morning-light My Strength and Time which thou do'st thus renew I Consecrate to thee they are thy due Be with me this whole day Save me herein From danger if thou please chiefly from sin All the day long Lord keep me in thy fear And make me ever sensible how near Thou art In private or in company Let me remember thy all-seeing Eye Upon me plac'd that I my self may frame To do thy Will to glorifie thy Name In sin with others let me not comply But speak act think as knowing thou art by Good Lord preserve me from that hainous Crime Mis-spence of short uncertain precious Time. O let me not my golden hours wast But live this day as if it were my last That I may mind the work I have to do Set Death and Judgment Heav'n and Hell in view Let me from Christ my Head fresh strength derive That I by Faith in thy dear Son may live Let me do others good my self at least Let sin this day be weakned grace increast Help me to spend it so that I at Night May looking back upon it take delight And in Eternity thy Name may praise For this and all my well-improved Days DIRECTIONS FOR THE EVENING REview at Night the Actions of the day What time was well spent what was thrown away Bless God for Mercies and confess the sin Thou know'st thou hast been guilty of therein To God through Christ for Pardon humbly pray Resolve against it for the following day Dare not to close thy eyes before thou make All Reckoning clear Perhaps thou may'st awake Before God's Judgment-Seat How dar'st thou look Him in the Face should he present a Book Of sins unpardon'd But if thou hast made Thy Peace through Christ thou need'st not be afraid Both Soul and Body are secur'd from harms Thou lodg'd in such a gracious Fathers Arms Who all his Children will in safety keep And so thou boldly may'st go die or sleep ON WHITSUNDAY ALL hail great day Day of our new Creation And of Redemption the sure confirmation Almighty Love that did us first create In holiness and bliss when from that state By our Apostasie our selves we threw Into that state doth us again renew This did the blessed Jesus undertake And by his Spirit wrought which for his sake On us was shed and which doth fully show Christ is God's Son by making Christians so He being now advanc'd on Gods right hand Doth exercise his regal Power and By all the Miracles of this great day Not only doth his present power display But also shews his future purposes And doth effect them by such signs as these A rushing Wind do his Disciples hear And cloven fiery Tongues on them appear God both in Wind and Fire and Voice is here Through all the World this wind commotion makes Which both the Heathenish State and Jewish shakes For not the Idol-temples fall alone But also that of the great Solomon This fire soon grew into a mighty flame And as if that strong wind had driven the same Through the whole World it did with brightness shine And did the World enlighten and refine Those Cloven Tongues th' Apostles mouths did fill And did convey to them such wondrous skill In all the Languages the World had known That they exactly spoke them as their own And whilst in these they do the Gospel preach Their hearers they do both surprise and teach These were to them Letters of Credence given To shew their Embassy deriv'd from Heaven What God inflicted once for punishment Now as a blessing on the World is sent Variety of Tongues that did disperse All Nations now unites the Universe The Babel-builders it did then confound But now the Christian Church even from the ground To such a vast firm structure doth it raise As may engage Spectators to his praise Whose wisdom can make all things serve his ends The same thing hurts his Foes and helps his Friends What to th' Apostles he did then direct Hath on each single Christian some effect O Sacred Spirit within my Soul repeat These blessings which once made this day so great Breath thou upon me with that heavenly Wind Which may refresh and purifie my Mind Kindle within me and preserve that fire Which may with holy love my Breast inspire And with an Active zeal my mind enflame To do thy will to glorifie thy name Furnish me richly both with gifts and Grace To fit me for the duties of my place So open thou my Lips my Heart so raise That both my
believe It wounds thy Soul and doth God's Spirit grieve Satan and Sin their Servants do destroy God to his Servants gives eternal joy Wherefore O Lord I yield my self to thee Let not sin have dominion over me Thy easie Yoak I 'll wear when that 's laid down Let thy Free grace vouchsafe a glorious Crown ON SOLITUDE I. WElcome sweet Solitude who loves not thee Loves not himself for only he Who from the busie throng is quit He to retire into himself is free He with himself may sit II. Than our Dear self is any thing more Dear Shall we then seem to hate or fear What most we love yet so do they Who rather had be rambling here and there Than with themselves to stay III. Some hideous frightful thing there is within Even a consciousness of Sin That if alone doth them affright Which to torment them when it doth begin Straightway they take their flight IV. Even from themselves poor Men they strive to fly Thrust into vicious Company There hoping for a little Peace From Noise from Sport from Riot and thereby Their Torments they increase V. Who weary of himself himself still flies And Vice for a diversion tries Hence greater weariness shall feel The Plaister which his folly doth devise Wounds worse than did the Steel VI. Thus the Slave loaden with his Guilt and Chain From Prison breaks but not from pain His Irons gall him in the road Untill at last he 's hurried back again To feel a double Load VII Thus in the numerous herd the wounded Hart Would shroud himself but still the Dart Sticks in his Flesh widens his Wound He cannot in the Croud shake off his smart Nor scape the following Hound VIII Then welcome Solitude abhor'd by none But Fools and vicious Men alone Whilst courted by the Wise and Good Who by Fruition have its blessings known Its pleasure 's understood IX Whilst they hither from the World remove In all that 's Good they do improve And here where nothing can annoy Rendring themselves worthy of their own love Themselves they do enjoy X. Wearied with Noise and Hurry here we have The Rest and Silence of a Grave The Mind too freed from stir and noise Begins to feel what pious minds most crave Foretasts of Heavenly joyes XI The Moon from view retir'd receives most light From Heaven and Heaven-ward shines most bright But what time we her Full do call When she comes forth expos'd to common sight 'T is then Eclipses fall XII Here Virtue 's fixt which justling Crouds did shake Here it doth Sanctuary take When Lusts and Passions it pursue Here gathering strength doth brave resistance make And all her Foes subdue XIII The mind exhausted by the multitude Here hath its strength renew'd Like Fields opprest by constant Plough It doth when Fallow laid in Solitude More Rich and Fertile grow XIV They who from others seem the most recluse For others Good most Fruit produce Who labour under Ground there find The Gold which after serves for common use And doth enrich Mankind XV. Rich Streams of Blessings from the Hermits cell O'reflow the World which none can tell From whence they flow but like some Fountain Unknown as th' head of Nile he oft doth dwell In the obscurer Mountain XVI The learned tribe whose works the World do bless Finish those works in some recess Both the Philosopher and Divine And Poets most who still make their address In private to the Nine XVII Thus on the Banks of Thames great Cowley chose His private Chertsey for repose Cowley whose Verse like those rich streams So deep as clear in various numbers slows And long shall last as Thames THE Sum of our Duty LOve God with all thy Heart and Soul and Mind To Friend and Foe be just be true and kind Obey they Parents and thy Rulers Laws Never rebel but suffer in God's Cause Be Meek and Patient Humble Sober Chast In these good ways be constant to the last And when thou hast done all then humbly cry An useless sinful Servant Lord am I. My strength and grace is from thy Holy Spirit My hope is in thy Mercies and Christ's Merit Whilst here I live let not thy Spirit leave me And when I die O Blessed Lord Receive me Whilst I was hearing Musick Feb. 1. 1671. LOrd take my Soul and tune it to thy will It wanteth tuning but thou want'st no skill O let thy Grace my mind bring into frame So shall I love and praise thy glorious name In thy great goodness shall my heart rejoyce Thy goodness I will praise with chearful voice Also my Life I 'l study so to frame That all my works may glorifie thy name Thus shall my Feet my Tongue and Heart agree This harmony thou lov'st this pleaseth me Thus will I spend my time on Earth thus I Will serve thee whilst I live and when I die I in a nobler sort thy name will praise Let Grace raise me so I 'l thy Glory raise On a great Thunder and Storm Iune 1. 1671. THY power O Great Iehovah I adore Whose voice in Thunder through the Clouds doth roar This voice I 'l entertain with awful fear With greater aw I will thy threatnings hear Thy lightning which doth pierce where 't is not felt It spares my Body but my heart shall melt Much more thy Spirit shall whose flames divine Consume our lusts but do our Souls refine Showrs which gush forth when the Clouds broken be Purge Me and th' Air soften the Earth and Me. Afflictions Storms and Showrs of Love and Peace This Purity and Softness shall encrease Thus Ear and Eye and Mind Reason and Sense Each hath its Object learns its Lesson thence Which way so ere I turn my eye or thought I something find whence Piety is taught Lord teach me ever duly to improve The tokens of thy Wisdom Pow'r and Love. CALMNESS IN A STORM Made in a Stormy Iourney Septemb. 1672. IN rough foul Ways my Mind is smooth and clear When the Winds roar then do I loudest Sing When the Sky low'rs Smiles in my Looks appear Clouds weeping Rain no Tear from me can wring What is it can disturb that inward Peace Which from disturbances receives increase This Wisdom and this Courage sometimes I Can in my little Stormy Journies use In th' Storms of Life there 's much more reason why The same brave Resolution I should chuse Life is a Journey full of Troubles these Wisdom may turn into Advantages Do I grow poor I 'le more enrich my Mind Am I defam'd I 'le make my Virtue shine More brightly through those Mists are Friends unkind God shall be dearer Doth my Health decline My Soul to Heaven shall thrive when Death shall give The mortal Wound then shall I truly live Thus the great Hercules from Iuno's spite Favours receiv'd this made his fame encrease First Toils and Dangers gave him first Delight And Glory thus the martial Man is Peace Not to bare chance
trembling there he stands a while Till thence by some slight push he headlong fall Whither he up by tedious steps did crawl Unweildy greatness and his dangerous height Make him to fall with greater shame more weight The Man of pleasure thinks himself more wise Gilt Earth and pop'lar air he doth despise Delights he craves more fit for flesh and blood Give him his grosser and more savoury mud The pleasures of his Throat and Lust wherein Wallowing he drowns himself and sense of Sin And yet his course his own designs doth thwart Rendring the Life he 's fond of dull and short The pleasures that he takes his health destroy Health without which no pleasures we enjoy His pleasures leave far greater pain behind They please his senses but torment his mind O brutish sensless wretch who when he might With Angels tast of pure and high delight Will rather chuse on pois'nous dirt to dine Will chuse in filth to lodg with Dogs and Swine Well let them take their choice But how shall I This short swift moment spend before I dye What shall I seek What shall I wait for here Oh! need'st thou ask what should to thee be dear My Soul What is it when this World is gone Will then thy portion be Seek Him alone Ev'n the Eternal God the only rest Of Holy Souls who in his Love are blest His Love shall Honour be his Grace my Treasure His Service and his Smiles my highest Pleasure May I but feel I love and know I please My God I 'l ask no greater things than these No greater on this Earth But here I 'l wait That happy hour wherein he shall translate My weary wandring Soul unto her rest When she of Joys Divine shall be possest Joys flowing from the blessed God and make Blessed the Souls who do of them partake My hope my trust my love on him I 'l place Waiting till I in joy behold his face On Luke 11. 14 c. WHen Satan from a Sinners heart Ejected is by Grace Restless through malice still he strives To gain his ancient place He who doth readmit this Guest His state becomes much worse His wickedness more hainous is Greater shall be his Curse Then watch and pray the very first Motions to sin suppress Constantly use the means of Grace Promoting Holiness Lord cleanse our Hearts and then of us A firm possession take Engage us to thy self that we May never thee forsake Seneca Thyestes Act. 2. STet quicunque volet potens Auâ—ae culmine lubrico Me dulcis saturet quies Obscuro positus loco Leni perfruar otio Nullis nota Quiritibus Aetas per tacitum fluat Sic cum transierint mei Nullo cum strepitu dies Plebeius moriar senex Mors illi gravis incubat Qui notus nimis omnibus Ignotus moritur sibi A Plain Paraphrase LET who will climb to heights of Honour where What they with labour get they hold with fear On lower ground give me an humble nest In private shades with peace and safety blest Here I 'l in silence pass my sliding years Strange to great men strange to their cares and fears In this obscure quiet recess shall I An honest Country Parson live and die But dreadful terrors do his death attend Who all his time in crouds and noise doth spend Knows not himself nor thinks of his last end A Translation of the first Epistle of Seneca to Lucilius HOld on brave friend in those good purposes Thy last did mention by such means as these Live to thy self the time that heretofore So many ways was lost now lose no more Our time some's stoln believe me what I say Some fairlier seems withdrawn some slips away But of all ways none is a worse mispence Than losing it by sloth and negligence View with attentive eyes the most of men With whom thou dost converse and tell me then Is not their life much of it loosely spent Idly yet more all on impertinent And trifling things is lost Where canst thou name A man that prizes time that sets the same Value on Hours as Gold who every day Perceives he 's dying whilst days wear away 'T is a mistake to think death yet to come As all at once which always works and some Of it's already past for all the breath We have expir'd is in the hands of death Act as thou speakest then with all thy pow'r Lay hold on and improve each present hour So on to morrow needst thou not depend If thou to day hast wisdom well to spend All things without us can't be call'd our own But Time is truely ours and Time alone This fleeting slipp'ry thing doth nature give As riches to possess whilst here we live Yet of this precious treasure eas'ly may Who ever will vast portions steal away Strange folly this that things of little cost Or worth things easily repair'd when lost Should be so priz'd that men bestow'd with such Mean things as these themselves they reckon much Obliged to the Donor but we hear No thanks for this rare jewel Time so rare That Gratitude it self no way can find Whereby it may this gift repay in kind But you may ask how I from day to day My time do spend whether I my self obey My self herein I am I must confess Like one who joyns care with his lavishness Who though's expences do his bounds surmount Yet of 's expences still he keeps account I dare not say I lose no time yet I So careful am that I can tell you why And how and what I lose so the same Fate I 'm in with him who to a poor estate Not through his own fault is reduc'd to whom Pardon from all succour from none doth come Thus I can tell how I come poor but what Is that man poor who hath enough Sure not Yet you my friend I rather would advise With care to keep your time betimes be wise To use it well you the old Proverb know Thrift comes too late when th' Purse is grown too low And rather haste since Old-age Time behind Not only least but worst we use to find Seneca Epist. 70. IF we 'l be friends it seems I must relate My each days actions see at what a rate Of freedom I converse with thee and will Keep nothing from thee so to keep thee still I visit now the Schools and lately there Did the Philosophers disputing hear What at these years why not what should I scorn To learn at length 'cause I have long forborn I justly happy should my self esteem Was this the only act did misbeseem My years This School all ages doth admit Let us whilst young when old let 's visit it I to the Theater am carri'd age Is held no plea to keep me from the Stage Seldom a bloody fencing-match is made 'Twixt Gladiators but I see it plaid Are Sports before Philosophy prefer'd Must those be seen and may not this be heard Perfection only may dismission give From