burn in love to marrow hate as much Sometimes we feare not when our ev'lls appear Sometimes affrighted at no cause of fear One while we should and will not will and should not Nay at the self same moment would not would not To day we feast and quaffe in frolique Bowles To morrow fast and pinch our guilty Soules Now Musick now a Knell saluts our eares at noon we swim in wine at night in teares Ore night our vowes are made our joy concluded To day the danger 's past and heav'n deluded The last six Monthes our fortune swell'd with store And now they break was never Iob so poore Time was that Peace enricht our joyfull I and Time is our martiall drum beats Warre at hand Unconstant Earth O is it not enough Thy days are ev'll at best and but a puffe At longest At the fruitfullest but vain But sad at merriest and at sweetest pain Is not all this enough enough to make The miserable childe of man forsake The false protection of thy magick eye With out th' addition of inconstancy It't not enough that we poor Farmers pay Quit-rent to Nature at the very day And at our dying howre bequeath to thee Our whole subsistence for a Legacie But thou must leave our frailties as a prey To time born Change that will permit no stay In one estate nor give us leave to lye Sad Patients in a quiet misery O but my saul why dost thou thus contend With thy Creators pleasure Cease to spend This needlesse breath Shall thy disordered will Confront his Providence or call that ill Which he thinks good Tell me my soul shall he That gave thee being be prescrib'd by thee He made thee for his glory not to spend Thy days in slavish labour nor to end Thy painfull travell in the shades of death But thou hast tainted that immortall breath Which qualif'd thy life and made thee free Of heavâ—n and earth and joynt Patentee With smooth fac'd Cherubims And too too proud Of thy short honoure wrapt thy thoughts and bow'd Thy straight desiers to unknown delight And wrapt thy glory in the clouds of night Lost thy freewill to good didst overthrow Thy perfect knowledg with desire to know bereft of wisdome lab'ring to be wise Now peer'd with beasts that only works and dies Both born to sorrow breathe the selfe same breath Live both alike both die the selfe same death Since then my soule thy hopes may not aspire To what thou wouldst suit thy supprest desire To what thou maist and let thy wisdome play Bad cards with best advantage what the day Brings in by travell let the frolique night Consume in Mirth and spend in full Delight Take thou to day let others take to morrow He earns the Solace that endures the sorrow CAP. IV. 1. Vanity is increased unto men by oppression 4. By envy 5. By idlenesse 7. By covetousnesse 9. By solitarinesse 13. By wilfullnesse 1. MY soul return'd and fixt her thoughts upon The hard oppressions made beneath the Sun And loe the tears of captives in distresse Cry'd loud for Comfort yet were comfortlesse Great was th' oppressors power yet the grief Of the opprest was void of all relief 2. O then I counted their condition blest Whom death hath lulld in everlasting rest Yea farre more blest then those that live to stand Afflicted patients at th' oppressors hand 3. Nay farre then both are they more blessed whom Conception never hansell'd in the womb Or those Abortives whom untimely birth Excus'd from all the sorrowes of the earth 4. I mus'd again and found when pains had crakt The harder shell to some Heroick act Pale envy stricks the kernell with taxation O this is vanity and souls vexation 5. The sluggish fool that solitary stands With yauning lips and bosome-folded hands Consumes his empty dayes at last is fed With his own flesh that would not move for bread 6. His idle tongue thus pleading for his sloth Better one hand be fill'd with rest then both Stretch'd forth in travell to prepare full diet With hearts vexation and the souls disquiet 7. Thus pausing Contemplation shew'd mine eye A new prospect of humane vanity 8. There is a lonely man that hath none other To foster then himselfe nor child nor brother Whose droyling hands think nothing can supply The greedy wants of his insatiate eye He robs himselfe nor knows for whose relife This is a vanity and wounding grief 9. The single state of him that lives alone Is double grief Two better is then One For two can share the sorrows that befall To one One 's worse then not to be at all 10. If eithers drooping shoulders be betray'd To a sad burden there 's a mutuall ayd Woe to the man whom danger meets alone For ther 's no arme to help him but his owne 11. When two divide the comforts of a Bed If one gains kindly warmth the others sped But warmth turns back to him that lies alone The steel will yeeld no sparks without the stone 12. If fury from a stronger arme assailes One falls before the foe when two prevails But if a third put in a timely stroke The Cord that 's threefold is not quickly broke 13. To be a poore wise child is jud'gd a thing More honourable then to be a King That 's old and foolish and whose disposition Checks at advice and spurns at admonition 14. The low and lanke estates are often known To clime from Prisons to the princely Throne And glorious Monarchs have been seen to fail And change their glittering Glory for a Goal 15. So have I seen the vulgar hearts grow cold To with'ring Greatnesse whilest their eyes behold The blooming heyre to whom affections run Like morning eyes to greet the rising Sun 16. Past Ages quench the fathers fading light In the Sons hopes and future dayes benight The Son in his Succeeders expectation O this is vanity and souls vexation SOLILOQUIE IV. MY soul to what a strange disguised Good Art thou bewitcht O how hath flesh and Blood Betray'd thee to a happinesse that brings No comfort but from transitory things How is thy freedome curb'd How art thou clogg'd With dull mortality bestow'd and bogg'd In thine own frailty How art thou repos'd In sin polluted dust embrac'd enclos'd In the foul armes of thy owne base Corruptions How is thy will disturb'd with th' inturruptions Of crosse desires desires not knowing where To finde a Center rambling here and there Which like their objects alterable rome Like idle vagrants without passe or home Review thy selfe my soul Cast up thy dayes They are but few Thy life is but a blaze Go take an inventory of those Ioyes Which thy false earth allowes I hey are but toyes To mock the frailty of thy flatter'd Sense Attended with a thousand discontents Hath Heaven inricht thy pains with thriving drift's Of mighty Gold endow'd thy minde with gifts Of sacred Art Or glorifi'd thy name With honour
know not to whom 24. Nothing better then joy in our labour but that is Gods gift 1. SInce knowledge then affords my soul no rest My roving thoughts tri'd mirth were possest Of all the pleasures earth could lend yet I Found mirth and pleasure all but vanity 2. I laugh'd at laughter as a toyish Antick And counted all my mirth no lesse then frantick 3. My heart but wisely foolish did encline To costly fare and frolick cups of wine That in these pleasures I might find some good To crown the short lif'd dayes of flesh and blood 4. I built magnifick Palaces did frame Great buildings to the glory of my name I planted Vineyards whose plump clusters might Rejoyce my heart and lend my soul delight 5. I made me fruitfull Orchards for my pleasure And curious Gardens to refesh my leisure I stored them with trees and these with Bowers And made a Paradise of fruits and flowers 6. I made me standing pools to entertain My breathlesse guests and all their num'rous train I cut me Aquiducts whose current flees And water all my wildernesse of trees 7. Armies of servants do attend my state Both foreiners and born within my gate Herds I possest and flocks above all them That reign'd before me in Jerusalem 8. Abundant silver gold and precious stones By Kings presented my Exchequer ownes All sorts of Musick earths delight had I To feed mine ear Beauties to please mine eye Such State magnificence and princely store 9. Wondring Jerus'lem never saw before In all this pomp my heart had not forgot The lawfull use My wisedome fail'd me not I gave mine eyes what ere mine eyes requir'd 10. Deny'd my hearts no mirth my heart desir'd For my poor hearts delight was all my gains My pleasure was the portion of my paines At length I cast my serious eye upon 11. My painfull workes what my hands have done But loe beneath the Sun no contentation All all was vanity and souls vexation With that I turn'd my weary thoughts agen 12. On wisdome and the foolishnesse of men Search they that please to search alas the'r s none Can search the truth more strict then Solomon When my impartiall Judgement did compare 13. Folly with wisdome this doth ev'n as farre Excell the other as Meridian light Excels the shadows of the darkest night The wise man eyes are in his head They stand 14. Like Watchmen in the Towre to guard the land But fools haunt darknesse yet my selfe perceive The self-same lot both fools and wisemen have Ah! then said I if equall fortune lies 15. For fools and me what vantage to be wise What profit hath my wisdome Then thought I The height of wisdome hath her Vanity 16. The foolish Bauble and the learned Bayes Are both forgotten in succeeding dayes Impartiall death shall close the dying eyes Both of the fool and also of the wise 17. Therefore I hated life for from th' events Of humane actions flow my discontents Life spent in action or in contemplation Is all but vanity and souls Vexation 18. I hated all that e'r my hands had done In seeking happinesse beneath the Sunne For what I did I cannot call mine own Anothers hand must reap what mine hath sown 19. Who knows if my successour is to be A wise man or a fool Howe'r 't is he Must spend with ease what I have earn'd with pain And souls Vexation this is also vain 20. For which my soul thus fool'd with vain pursuit Of blossom'd happinesse that bears no fruite Whisper'd despair of all that I had done To purchase perfect good beneath the Sunne 21. Some men there be whose more elaborate gains The fruits of lawfull cares and prudent pains Descend to those that knew nor pains nor Art This is a vanity and afflicts the heart 22. For what reward hath man of all his droyl His ev'ning trouble and his morning toyl His hearts vexation and his griefs that run Through all his labours underneath the Sun 13. His dayes are sorrows tedious griefs attend His travail hopelesse of a journies end His restlesse nights afford his closed eye No slumbers This is also vanity 24. There 's nothing sweeter then to take repast Of meats and drinks and now and then to cast Griefs burthen off and gently loose the rains By intermingling pleasures with our pains But this I know lies not in our command It is a blessing from th' Almighties hand 25. For who can eat what mortall can apply His heart to force a pleasure more then I 26. Heaven gives the just man wisdome knowledg mirth To sinners travell to heap earth to earth Wherewith t' enrich the righteous Generation This is his vanity and souls Vexation SOLILOQUIE II. BUt stay my soule Art thou resolved than T' abjure delight and turne Capuccian Because thy earth hath thus eclips'd the light Of thy contentment wilt thou make it night Wert thou condemn'd to sorrows wert thou born To live in languishment and die forlorn Abuse not thy Creation Thou wert made Not thus to sterve thy blossomes in the shade Of barren melancholy or to wast Thy pensive hours in the boysterous blast Of stormy discontent Com com my soul Hoyst up thy sails to mirth Let others houle And whine Let such as alwayes are at wars With their owne fortunes curse their ill fac'd stars Passe thou thy frolique youth in Revels sports And fresh delights frequent the purple Courts Of prosperous Princes Stâ—e thy heart in mirth And crush the childe of sorrow in her birth O but my soul what profit can accrew From lavish mirth what pleasure is 't to skrue An Antick face and grimme or to enforce An empty laughter in a vain discourse Why then my soul Goe winde the Plummets up Of thy down spirits with a chirping cup Redeem thee from the gripes of care and rapes Of grief and drench them in the blood of grapes I but perchance in that sad heart of thine There is a wound craves rather oyle then wine If then thy cure prove worse then thy disease That grief thou dar'st not cure attempt to ease Forget thy sorrows or if rugged sense Will not be woo'd by language to dispense With her provoking foe advise with Art Those stubborn streames thou canst not stop divert And like a pain-afflicted stripling play With some new toy to while thy grief away Goe raise great works whose structure may impart The masters wisdome and the builders Art Build houses whose magnificence may proclaim Thy worth as lasting Monuments of thy name Plant Orchards for thy pleasure Deck thy bowers With dainty fruits and delectable flowers Cut Waterworks instruct the silver tide To wanton up and down Teach her to slide In soft Meanders through the fluid veins Of the green breasted stream embroydered plains Ravish thy soul with Musick and refresh The wasted spirits of thy unweildy flesh With high-bred raptures Let harmonious Ayres Compose the discords of thy droyling cares Take
Pictor adumbravit Vultum guem cernimus aft hic Non vaset egregias pingere mentis Opes Has siscire cupis sua consule Carmina in illis Dotes percipies pectoris eximias What heere wee see is but a Graven face Onoly the shaddow of that brittle case Wherin were treasur'd up those Gemms which he Hath left behind him to Posteritie Al Ross W M Sculy SOLOMONS RECANTATION ENTITVLED ECCLESIASTES PARAPHRASED With a SOLILOQUIE or Meditation upon every Chapter Very Seasonable and Usefull for these times By FRANCIS QUARLES VVITH A SHORT RELATION OF His LIFE and DEATH The third Edition O curas hominum O quantum est in rebus inane LONDON Printed for RICHARD ROYSTON and are to be sold at his Shop at the Signe of the Angel in Ivy-Lane 1648. A SHORT RELATION Of the Life and Death of Mr. FRANCIS QUARLES BY URSULA QUARLES his sorrowfull Widow THough it be inconsistent with the duty of a Wife to be injurious in any respect to her Husband yet in this my bold undertaking I fear I shall be so to mine which I doubt not but he would have forgiven if he had been living as proceeding from love and I hope his friends will pardon now he is dead as being the last duty I can perform to a loving Husband Those that see with what pen his Works are written will say his Life deserved a more skilful Artist to set it forth which office though many might have been procured to undertake and to which I doubt not but some would voluntarily have offered themselves if they had known that such a thing had been intended yet have I with much zeal though small discretion adventured upon it my self as being fully assured that none can be more sensible of the losse of him then I though thousands might have exprest that losse to the world with more Art and better judgement He was a Gentleman both by birth and desert descended of an ancient Family and yet which is rare in these last and worst times he was an ornament to his Ancestors His Father was Iames Quarles of Rumford Esquire Clerk of the Green-cloth and Purveior of the Navie to Queen Elizabeth and yonger brother to Sir Robert Quarles His education was sutable to his birth first at schoole in the Country where his School-fellows will say he surpassed all his equals afterward at Christs Colledge in Cambridge where how he profited I am not able to judge but am fully assured by men of much learning and judgement that his Works in very many places doe sufficiently testifie more then ordinary fruits of his Vniversity studies Last of all he was transplanted from thence to Lincolns Inne where for some years he studied the Laws of England not so much out of desire to benefit himself thereby as his friends and neighbours shewing therein his continuall inclination to peace by composing suits and differences amongst them After he came to maturity he was not desirous to put himself into the world otherwise he might have had greater preferments then he had He was neither so unfit for Court preferment nor so ill beloved there but that he might have raised his fortunes thereby if he had had any inclination that way But his mind was chiefly set upon his devotion and study yet not altogether so much but that he faithfully discharged the place of Cup-bearer to the Queen of Bohemia and the office of Secretary to the Reverend and learned Lord Primate of Ireland that now is and of Chronologer to the famous City of London which place he held to his death and would have given that City and the world a testimony that he was their faithfull servant therein if it had pleased God to blesse him with life to perfect what he had begun He was the Husband of one Wife by whom he had eighteen children and how faithful and loving he was my pen and their tears are not able to expresse In all his duties to God and man he was conscionable and orderly He preferred God and Religion to the first place in his thoughts his King Country to the second his Family and Studies he reserved to the last As for God he was frequent in his devotions and prayers to him and almost constant in reading or meditating on his holy Word as his Divine Fancies and other parts of his Works will sufficiently testifie For his Religion he was a true son of the Church of England an even Protestant not in the least degree biassed to this hand of superstition or that of schisme though both those Factions were ready to cry him down for his inclination to the contrary His love to his King and Country in these late unhappy times of distraction was manifest in that he used his pen and powred out his continuall prayers and tears to quench this miserable fire of dissention while too many others added daily fewell unto it And for his family his care was very great over that even then when his occasions caused his absence from it And when he was at home his exhortations to us to continue in virtue and godly life were so pious and frequent his admonitions so grave and piercing his reprehensions so mild and gentle and above all his own example in every religious and morall duty so constant and manifest that his equall may be desired but can hardly be met withall Neither was his good example of a godly life contained only withâ—n his own Family others as well as we have or at least might have made good use of it For he was not addicted to any notorious vice whatsoever He was courteous and affable to all moderate and discreet in all his actions And though it be too frequent a fault as we see by experience in Gentlemen whose dispositions incline them to the study of Poetry to be loose and debauch'd in their lives and conversations yet was it very far from him Their delight could not be greater in the Tavern then his was in his Study to which he devoted himself late and early usually by three a clock in the morning The fruits thereof are best tasted by those who have most perused his Works and therefore I shall be silent in that particular For though it had been necessary in another to have spoken somewhâ—t of his writings yet I hope it will not be expected from me seeing that neither the judgement of my Sex can be thought competent nor if it were would the nearnesse of my relation to him suffer me to praise that â— commendations whereof from others I have often blushed I shall therefore rather desire leâ—ve to speak a word or two concerning the blessed end of my dear Husband which was every way answerable to his godly life or rather indeed surpassed it For as gold is purified in the fire so were all his Christian virtues more refined and remarkable during the time of his sicknesse His patience was wonderfull insomuch as he would confesse no pain even
posted on the wings of Fame What is there then that lies in earths election To raise thy hap'nesse to more higb perfection I but my soule what great what higher hand Shall stop the mouth of Envy Or command Her snake devouring fangs to keep the peace Vpon thy worried Name To every Lease Of earths best granted happinesse belongs The sharp Proviso of malicious tongues They they shall blast thy fortunes leave a tang Vpon thy new broch'd Honour They shall hang Like Burres upon thy welfare and destroy Like th' Easternworm the gourd of all thy joy Or if thou chance to scape the whispering tongue Of secret Envie Force and bold-fac'd Wrong May hap to roare upon thy full mouth'd Sails And rude Opression with her Harpy nails may gripe thy fair Prosperity and great Vpon the vastnesse of thy great estate Or if those foraign dangers should forbeare To make assault or made prove lesse severe From out thy very bosome may arise Intestine Foes to make thy peace their prize If that Dull worme that cloaths the mossy land Withrags but kissethy bosome-folded hand It eats thy treasure with a secret rust And layes thy bed-rid honour in the dust Or if thy droiling hand should once beslave Thy glorious freedome with a thirst to have And take thee prisner to thy loose desirets Thy happinesse even whilst enjoy'd expires Or if a liberall Content should crown Thy Gould with Rest and make thine own thine own Perchance thou want'st a Partner that may share In all thy fortunes or if sped an heire Whose worth and hopefull merrits may revive Thy houor'd Dust and keep thy name alive Or if the pleased hand of heaven subscribe To those desires a selfe-conceit may bribe Thy passion guided Will to take up Arms 'Gainst soveraign Reason at whose bold Alarm 's Thy false affections may riseup and shake Thy fancy-baffled Judgement and so make A Gap for mischief which may reccommend Thy reeling Fortunes to aruinous End Now tell me O my soul wherein can earth Deserve thy pains or gratifie thy birth In framing equall happinesse nay in freeing Thy partiall heart from unrepented Beeing O is 't not better not to thirst at all Then thirst in vain or quench thy thirst with gall Are not the Cloysters of the Barren Wombe Far more desiderable then to come Into the wilde into the common Hall Of troubled Natures factious Court where all Move in their Orbs of Care and severall wayes Fulfill their Revolutions of sad dayes Are not the shady Bowers of death more sweet Then the bold Sunshine where we hourely meet Fresh ev'lls like Atomes whose deluding breath Tickles our fancies till we laugh to death Our day of birth leads in our dayes of Trouble My soul prize not this earth this Toy this Bubble CAP. V. 1 Vanities in divine service 8 in murmuring against oppression 9 and in riches 18 Ioy in riches is the gift of God 1. ATtend thy footsteps when thou drawest near The house of God and be more apt to hear Then give the sacrifice of fools which know Not in their sacrifice what ev'll they do 2. Let not thy tongue be rash Commit no wast Of words before thy God by over hast Since he from heav'n beholds thy actions here All lavish babling let thy lips forbeare 3. As dreams and rest-disturbing fancies flow From floods of businesse which by day we doe So multitude of words are daily sprung From th' idle fountain of a foolish tongue 4. When thou hast bound thee to thy God by vow Defer not payment but perform it thou Discharge thy bonds for heaven takes no delight In fools that violate the faith they plight 5. Far safer 't is thy vows vere never made Then heaven promis'd payment never pai'd 6. Let not thy lips ensnare thee plead not thou Before thy Angel 'T was too rash a vow O why should'st thou provoke thy God and dare His curse upon thy practise and thy pray'r 7. Dreams oft are vain and folly'is mixt among The language of a multiloquious tongue But let the wisdome of thy lips appeare Before thy God with reverentiall fear 8. Seest thou perverred Justice in the land And poor men grip'd beneath th' oppressours hand Stand not amaz'd Th' Almighty views their way And there be pow'rs at hand more high then they 9. The fruitfull surface of the pregnant soyl Enrich'd by the laborious ploughmans toyl Brings forth to all nay very Kings do build Their whole subsistence from the fertill field 10. 'T is not full heaps of eye-rejoycing Gold Can feed or screen thy nakednesse from cold Nor can the piles of treasur'd wealth sustain Thy drooping spirits this is also vain 11. As goods increase ev'n so their number who Must share the goods encrease encreaseth too What hath the owner more then they but this What they consume his eyes behold as his 12. How sweetly pleasant is the sleep of such As labour eat they little or eat much When as the wealth of idle Owners keep Their heart from quiet and their eyes from sleep 13. There is an ev'll that happens now and then Beneath the Sun among the sons of men Oft have I seen increasing riches grow To be their great made Owners overthrow And vex their souls with care and then repay Unprosp'rous pains with grief and melt away 14. His wealth is fled and when he should transfer it Upon his heir ther 's nothing to inherrit 15. Look how he came into the world the same He shall go out as naked as he came Of what his lab'ring arm hath brought about His dying hand shall carry nothing out 16. This is a wounding Grief that as he came In ev'ry point he shall returne the same What profit can his soules affliction find That toyls for aire and travels but for wind 17. The pilgrimage of his laborious dayes Is sordid and obscure and all his wayes Are blockt with troubles and his souls disquiet To gain his very life-sustaining diet 18. I hold it therefore the most happy lot To eat and drink and reap what pains hath got To crown those days which his Creator gave 'T is all the portion he is like to have 19. All such to whom the bounteous hand of heav'n Gives wealth and license to enjoy it giv'n To sweeten labour may they understand It is a favour from th' Almighties hand 20. Such doubtlesse in their labour shall forget Their painfull sorrows and their toylsome sweat For heav'n hath crown'd their fair desires and sent A peacefull conscience and a pleas'd content SOLILOQUIE V. BUt hark my soul the morning Bels invite Thy early paces to a new delight Away away the holy Saints-bell rings Put on thy robes and oyle thy sacred wings Call home thy heart and bid thy Thoughts surcease To be thy Thoughts Go bind them to the peace Take good security or if such fail Commit them to the all-commanding Iail Of thy cram'd bags there to lie
State 's at hand what Potentate On whom must all these Royall armies wait Who worthy of so great a preparation Is th' object of such royall expectation What Prince is to be borne What glorious birth Is to be celebrated Groaning earth Brought forth a lump not much above a span A little naked puling thing call'd Man Man a poore shiftlesse transitory thing Born without sword or shield not having wing To fly from threatning danger not an arme To grapple with these num'rous ev'lls that swarme About his new-born frailty warpt aside From faire obedience to rebellious Pride Man in whose frame the great Three-One advis'd And with a studied hand epitomiz'd The large voluminous and perfect story Of all his works The Manuall of his Glory Man in whose soule the all-Eternall drew The Image of himselfe for earth to view With fear and wonder in whose Sov'raign eye He breath'd the flames of dreadfull Majesty Fill'd him with power entrusted to his hand Earths Empire and the lower worlds command Crow'nd him with glory made him little lower Then heav'n-bred Angls that excell in power O but my soule how is that hand asham'd Of his owne work How is this frame unfram'd How is this Manuall blotted Every word How interlin'd How is this Image blurr'd How are those sparks of Majesty that were So bright now baffled with degen'rous feare How is that power that was bred and borne The earth Commander now become the scorne Of dunghill passion shipwrackt with the Gust Of every fatuous and inferiour Lust How is the Sunbright Honour of his Name Eclipst How is his Glory cloath'd with shame Reflect upon thy selfe my soul Enquire Into the vastnesse of thy vaine desire What would'st thou have which being had may fill Th' unfathom'd Gulf of thy insatiate will Thou level'st at a Good Whrrein consists The Good Thou level'st at To what strange Lists Is her conceal'd Omnipotence confinde Where is this will-commanding Saint enshrin'd Is not her royall person gone to view The Mines of Ophir to the rich Peru Or is she gone to oyle the wings of Time With unctious pleasures in some forain Clime Or is she mounted on the slippery Throne Of staggering Honour there disguis'd unknowne Alas my soul if heaven should suit thy store With thy desire then wouldst desire yet more Or if spring tides of Gold shonld a degree Transcend thy wish perchance it would want thee What if a num'rous Off-spring should proclame A perpetuity to th' lasting Name Or if the even-spun Twine should be extended Till thou could'st number Nations all descended From thine own loynes yet if the sparing hand Of wayward Providence should chance to brand Thy dayes with poverty th' abortive birth Is more indebted to the gracious earth Then thou Whose shadow-grasping hand even tires Upon the vanity of the vast desires Nay if both beav'n and earth should undertake T' extract the best from all Mankind to make One perfect happy man and thou wert Hee Thy finite fortunes still would disagree With thy insatiate soul Some Qâ—almes of earth Hereditary to thy humane birth Would print thy pamper'd soul with such a fresh And lively Character of feeble flesh That all thy joyes do Fortune what she can May not exempt thee from the Lot of Man CAP. VII 1 Remedies against vanity are a good name 2 Mortification 7 Patience 11 Wisdome 23. The difficulty of wisdome 1. A Good reputed Name is sweeter farre Then breaths of Aromatick Oyntments are And that sad day when first we drew our breath Is not so happy as the day of death 2. Better it is to be a fun'rall gust Then finde the welcomes of a frolick feast There may'st thou view thy end and take occasion T' enrich thy thoughts with friutful contemplation 3. Better to cloud thy face with grief then show The lavish wrinkles of a laughing brow For by the sad demeanour of thine eyes The heart 's instructed and becomes more wise 4. The wise mans sober heart is alwayes turning His wary footsteps to the house of mourning But fools consume and revell out the night In dalliance and the day in loose delight 5. The vertue of a wise mans fair reproof Brings greater benefit to a mans behoof Then all those eare-bewitching sweets that can Belch from the language of a foolish Man 6. Look how the crackling thornes under the pot Blaze for a season but continue not Ev'n so do foolish flatt'ries entertain Our souls with joy but all that joy is vain 7. When wisemen turn oppressors they have crackt Their understandings in the very act And the acceptance of a Bribe destroyes The grounds of judgment and it blinds her eyes 8. In all attempts the onset does not lend So sweet a satisfaction as the end And he whose gentle spirit is endow'd With meeknesse is far better then the proud 9. Let not thy hot-mouth'd spirit entertain Too sudden passion with too slack a Rain For rash and unadvised anger rests Embosom'd and abides in foolish brests 10. Let not thy murm'ring tongue desire to know Why former dayes were not so bad as now Where heav'n declares a will no wise mans eye Should search a Cause or lips enquire a why 11. Wisdome is profitable to advance Mans welfare joyned with inheritance By this conjunction profit doth arise To those that toyl beneath the sweltring skies 12. Wisdome's a Guard and treasure a defence To supersede our wants reliev'd from thence 13. Wisdom's th' extract of knowledge and convayes To the possessor everlasting dayes O let thy thoughts enquire and understand The well-weigh'd works of the Almighties hand What he hath setled in a crooked state No industry of man can make it straight 14. In thy good day take pleasure and be wise In thy bad day have patience and advice For heav'n gives both by turns to let man see How alterable earthly pleasures bee 15. Much have I seene in this my short-liv'd day Among the rest the just man snatcht away In his just works whilst wicked finde successe And prosper in their long-liv'd wickednesse 16. Since then th' upright mans recompence is such Be not too wise nor righteous over much Why should they too much righteousnesse betray Thy danger'd life and make thy life a prey 17. Nor let the flesh suggest thee or advise Thy thoughts to be too wicked too unwise Why should thy folly captivate thy breath And make thee prisner to untimely death 18. In all thy courses threfore it is best To lodge uprightnesse in thy constant brest For he that feareth the Almighty shall Outwear his ev'll or finde no ev'll at all 19. Wisdome affords more strength more fortifies The undejected courage of the wise Then all the twisted pow'r of those that are The Guides of Citties or their men of warre 20. Yet is there none beneath the crystall skies So just in action or in word so wise That doth alwayes good or hath not bin Sometimes polluted with the stains of
and made authentick by the sword What vent'rous tongue dare question or demand The least account from his illustrious hand 5. Whose loyall brests observe the Laws of Kings Shall never know the grief Rebellion brings The wisemans heart knowes times and judgment too Not only when to speak but what to doe 6. For ther 's to every purpose among men A judgement how to doe a season when Which if mistaken or not understood Brings so much mis'ry upon flesh and blood 7. For man is ignorant of what may fall And who is he can tell him when it shall 8. No man hath power to prolong his breath Or make him shot-free in the day of death There 's no retreat in that sad warre nor can Mans wickednesse preserve the wicked man 9. All this have I observed and have given My heart to note each action under Heaven There was a time when th' oppressors arme Opprest his brother to th' oppressors harme 10. So have I seene grave Judges but unjust That sat in judgement honor'd to the dust Which hid their crimes these seemed to obtain Some happinesse This happinesse is vain 11. Because a present sentence is not past Upon the wicked their dull hearts at last Grow quite obdure resolv'd and fully bent To act what evll's their greedy lusts present 12. Put case the sinner multiply his Crime And his long dayes ev'n rust the Sithe of Time Yet well I know they only shall be blest That sear th' Almighty with a filiall brest 13. I but the wicked shall not scape secure Though he live long he shall not long endure But like a shadow shall his dayes appeare Because he fear'd not whom he ought to feare 14. There is a vanity raigns here below I see the wise man reap what sinners sow And sinners share when just men sow the seed This Grief said I all other Griefs exceed 15. Then prais'd I mirth and held it the best choice Beneath the sun to eat and to rejoyce For this is all the good this all the gains Is like to chear our days and crown our pains 16. But when I set my busie heart to know Wisdome and heav'ns strange working here below For day and night my studyes did deny Sleep to mine eye-lids slumbers to mine eye 17. O then I found his works beneath the sun Past finding out my fruitlesse thoughts did run This heav'nly maze till they at length concluded Mans wit stoops here here wisdom stands deluded SOLILOQUIE VIII BUt stay my soul What language does appear Am I deceiv'd Or did I seem to hear Which Tenet shal I baulk And which imbrace Hath Truth like Janus got a double face Did not that voice that voted Wisdome vain But very now now cry it up againe Shall what was late condemn'd as a disease Now prove a Remedy Such slips as these Are brands of humane frailty which belong To us and ours It well be seems our tongue To contradict and jangle Error 's known By many faces Truth admits but one How haps it then that wisdome whose encrease Adds to our Grief yet crowns our dayes with peace Be not deceiv'd my soul Let not one Name Confound two Natures and make two the same Shall Names give Natures Dare thy tongue professe An equall priviledge to Curse and Blesse For one Names sake No my deluded soul Sooner may Light and Darknese Fair and Foul Sooner may Good and Evill nay Heaven and Hell May sooner startle from their Parallel And turn Joynt-tenants in one perfect Line Then these two Wisdomes Humane and Divine That breeds a Tumor in the flatuous brest This lays it That brings trouble and This rest That kindles fires and those fires encrease To self-contention This concludes a Peace That duls the thoughts supprest with low desires This mounts thy soule with more heroick fires That cannot brook the transitory frown Of Fortunes brow This makes a Crosse a Crown That fils thy hopes with froth and blurs thy youth With black-mouth'd Error This directs to Truth That scorns advice and like an own-selfe Lover Befools thee But this honors the Reprover That fears and flees or fals at every breath Of discontent This triumphs even in death That breaks Relations and for private ends Dissolves Allegeance and disbands true friends This loves society cals not Mine but Ours Yeilds due obedience to superior Pow'rs That prickt by Passion rushes into crimes This backt with Reason councels with the Times That gives the name of Power This the thing That makes a Tyrant This creates a King That lights thy Honor fading like a blaze This crowns thy Name with everlasting dayes That breeds a Serpent This brings forth a Dove That works a servil fear This filiall love That deads thy spirit This makes thee wisely bold That scowres thy Brass But this refines thy Gold That fills thy Feast with Cares with fears thy Breast This makes thy morsell a perpetuall Feast That cools thy Palate but inflames thy fire This slakes thy Thirst and satiates thy desire O then my soul correct that flesh and blood That blinds thee so and like a gloomy Cloud Thus interposes and obscurely flyes Betwixt the sacred object and thine eyes Clear up my soul and like the eye of day Chastise that peccant darknesse and display Those mists of earth which like false Glasses shew Fanatick figures and present thy view With specious objects precious in esteem Alas but nothing lesse then what they seem Then shall the wisdome of that scarlet Whore And all her bald-pate Panders painted o're With counterfaited Holinesse appear In her true colours so that every ear That hears her base Impostures and the fame Of her lewd Piety shall abhorre the Name Of bloudy Rome Then shall the spotted Beast Put off her golden Trappings and undrest Of all her glory be turn'd out to graze In uncouth deserts and consume her dayes With Dragons Tigers and those salvage things Now pamper'd with the bloud of Saints and Kings O then the crooked Paths of Error fraud And Candle-light devotion trim'd and straw'd With sweet-lipt Roses shall appear as plain As tide-forsaken Rocks along the Main Then shall true wisdome like fair Sheba's Queen Begin her royall Progresse and now seen In perfect Beauty shall erect her Throne In every breast and every Solomon Shall court her Glory and intranc'd in pleasure Shall smell her spices and divide her treasure CAP. IX 1 Like things happen to good and bad 4. There is a necessity of death unto men 7 Comfort is all their portion in this Iife 11 Gods providence ruleth over all 13 Wisdome is better then strength Vers. 1. ALL this I ponder'd and at length I found All actions whether just or wise are crown'd By secret providence And no man knows Gods love or hate by blessings or by blows 2. All haps alike to all The same things doe Befall the righteous and th' unrighteous too Th' unclean and clean have here the self-same pay And he
that prays and he that doth not pray Alike befals to good and bad and both To him that swears and him that fears an oath 3. It is a grief that grates beneath the Sun That like events betide to every one Which makes the desp'rate hearts of men to rave With mischief till they drop into the Grave 4. For the ambition of their hopes extend But to this life and with this life they end Better to be a living dog they plead Then to be known a Lyon that is dead 5. For they that live know well that they shall die And therefore take their time But they that lie Rak'd up in deaths cold Embers they know not Or good or ill Their names are quite forgot 6. They have no friends to love no foes to hate They know no vertue to spit venome at They sell no sweat for gains nor do they buy Pleasure with pains or trade beneath the sky 7. Goe then rejoyce and eat Let a full boul Casheire thy cares and chear thy frolick soul What heaven hath lent thee with a liberall hand To serve and chear thy frailty up command 8. Indulge thy carefull flesh with new supply And change of garments of the purest dy Refresh thy limbs annoy'd with sweat and toyle With costly bathes thy head with precious oyle 9. Delight thy self in thy delicious wife All the vain days of thy vain wasting life Of all the works thy painfull hand hath done This this is all the price beneath the Sunne 10. What ere thy hand endavours that may gain Contentment spare not either cost or pain For there 's no hand to work no pow'r to have No wisdome to contrive within the grave 11. I find the swift not always win the prize Nor strength of arm the battell nor the wise Grow rich in fortunes nor the men of skill In favour all as time and fortune will 12. Man knoweth not his time As Fishes are Snar'd in the net Birds tangled in the snare So be the sons of men surpriz'd with snares When mischief fals upon them unawares 13. This wisdome have I seen beneath the skye Which wisely weigh'd deserves a wise mans eye 14. There was a little City poorly mann'd 'Gainst which a Potent King brought up a band Of Martiall strength besieg'd it and withall Built mighty Bulwarks 'gainst her slender wall 15. In this half conquer'd City there was found A poor wise man whose wisedome did confound Both thē al the works their strength could plant Yet no reward reliev'd this poor mans want 16. O then thought I poor wisdome will at length Discover greater worth then golden strength Yet is the poor mans wisdome poorly priz'd His word 's not heard or being heard despis'd 17. The whisp'ring wise mans tongue prevaileth more Then when the lips of foolish Rulers roare 18. Prudent advise is more transcendent far Then strength of Arm or Instruments of war But rash attempts of a misguided hand Defeat themselves and ruine all the land SOLILOQUIE IX BUt ah my soul what boots it to be wise Or what Advantage what great profit lies In a fair Iourny to be well supply'd With all Accoutrements a knowing Guide A metled Steed a sweet and temperate sky Short miles and way-beguiling Company When armed death stands ready to attend Thy parting Stirrop at thy Iournies end Thy wisdome cannot save thee ha's no power To keep thee shotfree or to quit that hower Dull Nabals Howreglasse runs as slow a pace As active Solomons An equall space Divides their minuts Deaths impartiall hand Wounds all alike and death will give no sand What then my soul If wisdome should entaile Our happinesse on this life or fill our Saile In this wilde Ocean with perpetuall breath When should we finde a Hav'n If partiall death Should favour wisdome and not exercise Her office there 't were misery to be wise The prudent Pilot whose marinall skill Makes the proud windes obedient to his will And ploughs the Billows with lesse fear then wrong Takes no delight to make his voyage long But with his wise endeavours seeks to guide His slender Pinnace and to curb the pride Of the rebellious waves and doth addresse His care to crown his voyage with successe Our life 's the voyage and this world the Ocean Our cares are waves tost in continuall motion Our thoughts are busie windes that often blow Too strong a Gale and tosses to and fro Our crazie Vessels Every soul does bear The office of a Pilot now to stear Now to advise and still to lay commands Upon th' Affection-Saylors whose rude hands Are alwayes active ready to fulfill The wise directions of the Pilots will It matters not my soul how long or short Thy voyage be if safe they gain the Port With best advantage that in peace arrive With ribs unshook and all their men alive It lies not in the skilfull Pilots power T' avoid tempestuous Seas but to endure 'T is wisdome to endure as well as doe Who bravely suffers is victorious too Then chear my soul Let not the frowns of earth Disturb thy peace or interrupt thy mirth Let not that rude that Apogean storm Of flesh and blood dismay thee or deform The beauty of thy thoughts or cast thy minde Into a base despondence Let the winde Blow were it please a well-prepared brest Will give thee shelter and afford thee rest When worldly crosses tempt thee understand Heav'n tryes thy temper then If then thou stand Upright in Court and of unshaken minde The Test approves thee and thou art refin'd Then chear my soul Let not the rubs of earth Disturb thy peace or interrupt thy mirth If heav'n hath crown'd thy labours with successe Enjoy it freely Eat and drink and blesse The gracious giver Let thy soul rejoyce And take a chearfull pleasure in the choice Of all delights and what his bounty gave With a free hand fear not thou to receive With a free heart Refresh thy fainting head With precious Oyles and change thy carefull bread To feasts of Ioy Or if a crosse should greet Thy frolique soul march bravely on and meet Adversity half way and with a heart Too great for earth to wrong shake hands and part Chear then my soul Let not the rubs of earth Disturb thy peace or interrupt thy mirth Goe sweeten up thy labours and thy life With fresh delights Rejoyce thee in the wife And partner of thy bosome Let her brest Suffice thee as the Center of thy rest Deny thy heart no pleasure that may lye Within the lawfull limits of thine eye Take time while time shall serve To morrow may Be none of ours Come come be wise to day And teach thy labours to bestow their sorrow On those that practise to be fooles to morrow CAP. X. 1 Observations of wisdome and folly 16 Of Riot 18 Slothfulnesse 19 and money 20 Mens thoughs of Kings ought to be reverenced Vers. 1. LOok how dead flies thoughfew in number soil
Corrupt and putrefy the purest Oil Ev'n so a little folly stains his fame Whom fair Repute for wisdome lends a name 2. A wise mans heart is plac'd at his right hand His plots and councels are of strong command But hearts of fools are weak and rash bereft Of sage advice their hearts are at their left 3. Nay if their steps but measure out the way Their Garb their Looks their Language do betray Their folly read by whomsoere they meet Themselves proclaim their selves in ev'ry street 4. If thy Superior happen to incense His jealous wrath at thy suppos'd offence Doe thou thy part and yeild for yeilding slakes The raging flame that great transgression makes 5. I see an ev'll beneath the Sun that springs From error reigning in the breasts of Kings 6. Fools are made Statesmen command at Court And men of parts are made the lower sort 7. So have I seen proud servants mounted high On Lordly Steeds and Lords to lackey by 8. He that shall dig a pit that shall prepare A snare shall be ensnar'd in his own snare And he that tramples down a hedge shall meet A Serpent to salute his trampling feet 9. He that shall shake a stone-compacted wall Shall undergoe the danger of the fall Who undertakes to cleave the knotty Oak Shall be a painfull partner in the stroak 10. But if th' unwhetted edge be blunt the arm Must give more strength so receive more harm But if he challenge wisdome for his guide Wisdome will doe what painfull strength deni'd 11. The rash reproving mouth of fools are arm'd Like unenchaunted serpents if not charm'd 12. The wise mans words are gracious where they go But foolish language doth themselves o'rethrow 13. Folly brings in the Prologue with his tongue Whose Epilogue is Rage and open wrong 14. The fool abounds in tongue there 's none can know What his words mean or what he means to doe 15. The tedious actions of a fool doth try The patience of the weary stander by Because his weaknesse knows not how to lay His actions posture in a Civill way 16. Woe to the Land whose Princes wisdome swayes The Scepter in the nonage of her dayes And whose grave Rulers that should haunt the seat Of sacred Justice rise betime to eat 17. Blessed art thou ô Land when as thy King Derives his royall blood from th' ancient spring Of Majesty and Rulers timely diet Serves to maintain their strength not their riot 18. By too much slothfulnesse the building fals Into decay and ruine strikes her wals And through the sluggish posture of his hand The weather-beaten house forgets to stand 19. Who eats and drinks and frolicks uncontrol'd Maintaining riot with his wanton gold 20. Curse not the King nor them that bear the sword No not in thought tho thought express no word The fowls of heav'n shall vent such hideous things And swift Report shall fly with secret wings SOLILOQUIE X. BUt ah my soul How closely folly cleaves To slesh blood How mungrell nature weaves Wisdome and folly in the self-same Loome Like webbe and woof whereby they both become One perfect webbe to cloath our imperfections With Linsy-woolsy and our mixt affections With foolish wisdome O how full of earth Was our first Ore which at our sinfull birth Was taken from the Womb Now purifi'd In sacred Fires and more then seven times tri'd In sharp afflictions furnace yet how base Our Bullion is not worthy of the Face That makes us currant O how apt and prone Is flesh and blood to fall if let alone But one poor Minute Most in danger then To be surpriz'd and foyl'd with Folly when Our bold Presumption tempts our thoughts to prise Our wisdoms over-much and seeme too wise How one rash action O how one dead Flie Embalm'd in thy sweet Oyle does putrefie Thy Box of Spikenard How it casts a shame Upon the beauty of thy honour'd Name O then my soul take heed to keep thy heart At thy right hand There there she will impart Continuall secrets and direct thy wayes In sacred Ethicks sweetning out thy dayes With season'd Knowledge knowledge past the reach Of black-mouth'd Error shall instruct and teach Thy tongue wise silence Wisedome when to break Thy closed lips and Iudgement how to speak Shee 'l teach thee Christian Policy and how To keep thee safe when as thy Princes brow Shall threaten death even when the flame shall flye Like horrid Lightning from his wrathfull Eye I but the rage of Princes oftentimes Darts Lightning at the Person not his Crimes And their misguided will oft times demands Obedience there where Conscience countermands Take heed my soul Thou tread'st upon the Ice Be not too vent'rous here nor too too nice Rush not too bold thou mayst as soon convince An Error in thy Conscience as thy Prince To lay commands upon indâ—fferent things Is a sole Royalty belongs to Kings If here thy conscience doubt the Book of Life Must cast the balance and decide the strife If this way thy enforc'd obedience then Must stoop If that Please rather God then men If th' Embers of his rage should chance to lye Rak'd up or furnace from his angry eye Quit not thy duty 'T is thy part t' asswage The jealous flames of his consuming rage What if through Error or misguided will He leaves the way to Good and cleaves to Ill Lend him thy Prayers Lament advise perswade Lift not thy hand nor let thy tongue upbraid His sacred Person Hee 's by heav'n appointed To be thy Prince O touch not heav'ns Anointed What if he lend the fulnesse of his pow'r To those imperious Spirits that devour Subjects like bread and drink the loyall blood Of men like water men not once allow'd To plead for life but silently subscribe To those that cannot judge without a Bribe What if his power pleases to commit His past'rall staffe to such as are more fit To kill and eat or recommend his flocks To such dum dogs of whom nor wolfe nor fox Will stand in awe or shew their feares by flight That have not tongues to bark nor teeth to bite Rebell not thou nor in a hostile way Accoast thy Prince Or suffer or obey What if the Common Favorite of the times The Courtly Fool grown great with count'nance climes Up to a Lordship when the Man of merit Broke on the wheel of Fortune must inherit Nothing but scorn and want and a poor name Betraid to pity and to empty Fame Be thou thy self let not thine eye be evill To a wise heart both hils and dales are levell How happy is that land how blest the Nation Whose Prince directs by Power not by Passion Whose sacred wisdome knowes how great a price True vertue beares and how to punish Vice Whose royall Majesty and princely love Can both incorporate and joyntly move In a self glorious Orbe and from one Sphear Breathe such rare influence of love and fear Into
the hearts of Men that all the land Shall cry a Solomon and sweetly stand Rapt with sweet Peace and sacred admiration How happy is that land how blest the Nation CAP. II. 1 Directions for Charity 7 Death in life 9 and the day of judgement in the days of youth are to be thought on Vers. 1. VPon the waters let thy bread be cast And thou shalt find it when some dayes are past 2. Give lib'rall Almes for it 's unknown to thee How full of wants thy after days shall be 3. If clouds be full will they deny to powr Their fruitfull blessings in a lib'rall show'r Or North or South or wheresoere the Tree Shall fall no question it shall fall to thee 4. He that observes the winde shall never sow Who marks the clouds shall never reap nor mow 5. Like as the Embryo's growth within their wombs Is strange to thee and how the soul becomes The bodies inmate ev'n so all the rest Of Heav'ns high works are strangers to thy brest 6. Cast thou thy morning seed upon the land And at the evening hold not back thy hand For who is he can tell thee which of these Shall prosper best or bring the best encrease 7. 'T is true the light is sweet and every one Takes pleasure in the world-rejoycing Sunne 8. But who lives many joyfull years if he But count how long his after shades shall be In earths dark bosome how can he refrain To think these short-liv'd flattering pleasures vain 9. Rejoyce ô young man in thy youthfull ways Let thy heart cheer thee in thy youthfull days Delight thine eyes thy heart and take thy way But know that heavens accompt will find a day 10. Then banish fals-ey'd mirth Be dispossest Of those lewd fires that so inflame thy brest For childhood youth and all their joyes remain But for a season and they all are vain SOLILOQUIE XI SO now my soul thy wisdome-season'd brest May eat and drink and labour and digest Thy carefull morsels and with holy mirth Disperse the clouds of melancholy earth Now maist thou sit beneath thy clustred Vine And presse thy Grapes and drinke thy frolick wine In soft and plenteous Peace and leave tomorrow To bear the burden of her selfe-borne sorrow Now maist thou walk secure from all those threats Of peevish Fortune and the sly deceits Of flattering pleasure Plenty cannot drown Thine eyes in mirth nor misery cast thee down If the blew Rafters of the falling skies Should leave their spangled Mansion and surprise Thy feeble strength well may their ruines smite thee And grinde thy clod to dust but not affright thee What want'st thou then my soul that may augment The reall happinesse of a true content What vertue 's wanting now whose absence may Encourage bold-fac'd vanity to betray Thy even-spunne dayes to sorrow or occasion Thy fair-contriv'd designes to tast vexation Wouldst thou have Honor thou enjoy'st it Treasure Thou hast it wouldst thou gain the greater pleasure Of a true noble Spouse whose life may show Vertues rare quintessence Thou hast that too Wouldst thou have hopefull Sonnes to crown thy Last With Peace and Honour Such rare Sonnes thou hast Thy Princes favour Or thy peoples love All this thou hast Wisdome in things above Thou hast it Knowledge in these Toyes beneath Thou hast it Skill in th' Arts or curious breath Of whispering State All this thou hast Where then Shall thy new wishes â—ix Rare Man of men I but my soul one good is wanting still To summe a full perfection and to fill Thy Cruise with happinesse which if possest Thou hast a Diademe crownes all the rest Hadst thou the tongues of men and couldst thou break Thy lips in Oracles Or couldst thou speak The dialects of Angels when they sing Their sacred Canzons to their Soveraign King A tinkling Cymball or the hideous sounds Of discomposed discords or the Rounds Of frolick midnight madnesse would requite Thy wild attention with as much delight And breathe as sweetly in the Almighties eare If heart-rejoycing Charity be not there Hadst thou what strength the Parnassean Muse Can blesse thy fancy with or heaven infuse Hadst thou a Faith to make the mountaines fly In the vast Orbe like Atomes in thine eye Lesse then those Atomes would thy faith appear If faith-confirming Charity be not there Shouldst thou to purchase heaven renounce thy Right Of all thy goods and turne an Anchorite Or should thy courage to deserve the name Of Martyr give thy body to the flame When that blood pleads heaven will not lend an eare If heav'n-engaging Charity be not there Since then my soul both Faith and Works lie dead If Charity fail be wise and cast thy bread Upon the Waters As the Waters runne Deal thou thy dole untill thy dole be done Man is Gods Husbandry If then the Plough Of carefull want hath struck the furrow'd Brow And make it fit for seed Hold not thy hand He robs himself that faintly sows the Land Stay not for showres The soile if overflowne Will drown thy seed-corn and return thee none Let not some weeds discourage thee to sow The Plough will root them up or if they grow Too sturdy for the Coulters point to kill Fear not thy harvest A hard Winter will Cast not lank grain upon too lean a ground Fair Crops from off all Corn are rarely found Sow closely what thou sow'st and least in sight The eyes of Doves will make thy harvest light But stay Thou mayst surcharge as well as sterve The soile But wise men know what seed will serve Thy work thus wisely done what then remains Give Heav'n the glory and expect the Gains CAP. XII 1 The Creatour is to be remembred in due time 8 The Preachers care to edifie 13 The fear of God is the chief Antidote of vanity REmember thy Creator in thy prime Of present youth before the black-mouth'd time Of sullen age approach before the day Thy dying pleasures find a dull decay 2. Before the Sun and Moon and Stars appear Dark in thy Microcosmall Hemisphear 3. Before the Clouds of sorrows multitiply And hide the Chrystall of the gloomy sky Before the Keepers of thy crazy Tow'r Be palsie-striken and thy men of pow'r Sink as they march and grinders cease to grind Distastfull bread and windows are grown blind 4. Then shall the Castles two-leafd gates be barr'd When as the Milstones language is not heard The horn-mouth Belman shal affright thy sluÌ„bers Thy untun'd ear shall loath harmonious numbers 5. Each obvious mole-hill shall encrease thy fears And carefull snow shall blanch thy falling hairs A fly shall load thy shoulders Thy desire And all thy bed-rid passions shall expire Pale death 's at hand and mourners come to meet Thy tear-bedabled fun'rals in the street 6. Then shall the sinews silver cord be los'd Thy brains gold bowle be broke The undispos'd And idle liver 's fountain dri'd The blouds Meandring Cisterns unsuppli'd 7. Then shall the
dust her dust to dust deliver Whose spirit shall return to God the Giver 8. Whereto th' Ecclesiastick thus replies All all is vain and vainest vanities 9. Because his true repentant soul was wise He read this wisdome-lecture did advise And search the Fountain whence he did convay The fruitfull streams in a Proverbiall way 10. He sought and found such words which had the might To entermingle profit with delight And what his spirit-prompted pen did write Was truth it self and most exact upright 11. The wise mans words are like to Goads that doe Stir up the drowzy and spur up the slow And like to nailes to be made fast and driv'n By hands to th' hearts of men sent down from heav'n 12. Make use my Son of what this hand hath penn'd There is no end of Pamphlets to no end These tire the flesh and after age is spent They breathe some knowledg but no true content 13. Mark then the ground where the main building stands Fear thou thy God Observe his just commands Within the limits of this sacred Ground Mans duty lies true Happinesse is found 14. No work shall passe untri'd No hand hath done What shal not plead at heav'ns Tribunall Throne All secrets good and bad attend his Eye His Eyes behold where day could never prye Deus his quoque finem SOLILOQUIE XII NOw launch my soul into this Sea of Tears Fear storms and Rocks yet smile upon thy fears Weigh Anchor Hoist thy weather-beaten Sailes The Tides run smooth The wind breaths prosp'rous Gales Tridented Neptune now hath struck a peace With full-mouth'd Aeolus and the wars surcease They sound a parley and begin to treat And Sea-green Triton sounds a shrill Retreat March now my soul through Hadadrimmons Vale Without a tear or if thou must bewaile Mourn for vain Earth and drop in alms one tear For him that findes no happinesse but there Now mayst thou trample on the Asp and tread On the young Lyon and th' old Dragons head Wisdome shall guide thee Love shall circumclose thee That fraud shall not beguile or force oppose thee Thy Prince shall honor thee thy Peers embrace thee No Crime shall shame thee no tongue disgrace thee The rich shall rev'rence thee the poor shall blesse thee Wrath shall not over-rule nor pride oppresse thee Thy want shall not afflict nor wealth betray thee This shall not puffe thee up nor chat dismay thee Pleasure shall not ensnare nor pains torment thee This shall not make thee sad nor that repent thee Blest shall thy labours be and sweet thy Rest Blest shall thy thoughts be and thy Actions blest Blest in thy peace and blest in thy promotion Blest in thy sports and blest in thy devotion Blest in thy losses blest in thy encreases Blest in thy health and blest in thy diseases Blest in thy Knowledge blest in thy Corrections Blest in thy Soul and blest in thy Affections O then my soul let thy Affections flow In streams of love to Him that lov'd thee so Let not His high-priz'd benefits depart From thy remembrance grave them in thy heart With Tools of Adamant that they may last To after-times that when thy days be past Thy well-instructed children may emblaze Thy Makers goodnesse to the last of days Blesse thou the Lord my soul Let thy whole frame And all within thee magnifie that name That blest thee so Blesse thou the Lord my soul Report his precious favours and enroll His numerous mercies in thy gratefull brest Remember thy Creator O protest His praises to the world and let thy tongue Make him the subject of thy youthfull song Give him the firstlings of thy strength even than When fading Childehood seeks to ripen man Upon the downy cheeks when vigour trains The sparkling blood through thy Meandring veins Before thy flowing marrow shall foment Thy lust full fires before the false content Of frothy pleasures shall begin t' invite Thy fond Affections to a vain delight Then then my soul whilst thy supplies are fresh And strong wage war with thy rebellious flesh Gird up thy loyns and march spare neither sweat Nor bloud take courage strike subdue defeat Sing a triumphant song sing Io Paean Adorn thy brows with Palm and again sing Io Paean Take time while time shall serve 't is thine to day But secret danger still attends delay Doe while thou mayst To day has eagle wings And who can tell what change to morrow brings Advantage wasts and strength of body wears Life has no lease and Youth no Tearm for years When creeping Age shall quench thy sprightly fires And breathe cold Winter on thy chill desires What fire shall burn thy Offerings O what praise Can issue forth from cold decrepit dayes When ebbing bloods neap-tides shall strike thy lims With trembling Palsies When dry Age bedims The optick sunshine of thy bed-rid days What boots thy cold thy Paralytick praise When secret Ulcers shall attaint thy breath With fumes more noysome then the sinks of death What pleasure shall thy great Creator raise From thy breath tainted and unsav'ry praise Come then my soul Rouze up thy dull desire And quicken thy faint coals of sacred fire That lie rak'd up in th' Embers of thy flesh Fetch breath from heaven with that breath refresh Thy glim'ring sharks Brook not the least delay Embers grow cold and sparks will soon decay THE END In obitum viri clarissimi atque ingeniosissimi Poëtae Francisci Quarles {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} {non-Roman} I Cygne felix ocyùs avola Cantator ales cùm neque jam vada Ripis supersint nec quietae Purus aquae fluat ecce rivus Fontes nec ipsi Sanguine sanguine Heu cuncta manant quod mare civicae Non decoloravêre caedes Ipsa vides rubet Hippocrene Et quis poëtis jam locus aut latex Quae lympha Musis cùm cruor undique Hinc hinc migrandum ni bibemus Purpureas Heliconis undas At ô Camaenarum dolor decus Tu si recedas quis tua funera Cantabit ô divine vates Quo moritur moriente Phoebus Quisquámne fundet jam querulum melos Falsum nec omen nominis hoc tui Moestúmve panget carmen artâ— Melpomenes citharâ canorus Quis sertacoelojam dabit aut pium Emblema texet floribus ingenî Quis symbolorum voce pictâ Vnà oculos animúmque pascet Quis melle puro jam calami potens Condîta promet dia poëmata Aut funditabit grande sacro Enthea metra calens furore Quis sanctitatem nectáre carminis Tinctam propinans digna Deo canet Coelúmque versu claudet omni Atque fidem fidibus sonabit Tu nempe litem si pote publicam Compescuisses dulcisonis modis Ni laeva nobis mens orbi Harmoniam reducem dedisses Mollîsse magnos tu poter as duces Fer as ut Orpheus flexanimis sonis Pacémque pulsam júsque mundo aâ— Eurydicen retulisse cantu Per te coîssent dissita pectora Per te coîssent diruta moenia Tu solus Amphion periâ—us Vel lapides sociare plectro Postquà m hoc negatum ponere nover as Emblema saltem flebile seculi Bellique nostris sed nec ullum Par Hieroglyphicum ruinis Quando ergo te nec terra capit tuis Nec digna Musis I pete coelites Intérque coetus Angelorum Perpetuum modulare carmen Jacobus Duport Graecae Linguae Professor Cantab. An Elegle upon the famous Poet FRANCIS QUARLES IS Quarles dead his active spirit flown And none to lend a tear a sigh a groan For the worlds losse me thinks at least all eyes Since tongues can not should weep large Elegies Expect no Muses for they at his death Compassionate lost their Poetique breath Expect no marble Tombe he 's above fate His name if Learning live shall know no date His issue shall survive posterity This age and th' next and so t' eternity Peruse his Phansies and his Emblems wrapt And see S. Paul into the third heav'ns rapt Or else some Cherubim sent down from thence T' unfold heav'ns Mysteries in heav'ns Eloquence A Poet-saint he was in him each line Speakes out at large rare Poet choyce Divine His message done he flyes unto his Maker Of what he told us here to be partaker His prison'd soul was so harmonious here Now loose what Musick think you makes she there She wept then sung now sung ' gaine wept in rime Her Rests now know no stop her joy no time Her Phansy Vision is she now doth live With Angels food knowledge intuitive By Emblems dark to spell the Deity She taught before now sees Divinity But stay my Muse the clouds doe interpose Twixt thee and her 't is better for thee close Then pierce or peep too farre Phoebus is set Th' hast pay'd thy tribute light thy tribute heat Sigh out the rest or wouldst thou to him go Thy Love thy Life Go be entombed too R. Stable FINIS Vide Psal. 31. ver. 7. 20. I have hated them that hold of superstitious vanities and my trust hath been in the Lord Let the lying lips be put to silence which cruelly disdainfully and despitefully speak against the righteous Postscript Vers. 9 Vers. 8 Vers. 2 Vers. 16 Vers. 18 Vers. 17 Vers. 16 Vers. 1 Vers. 2 Vers. 3 Vers. 4 Vers. 5 Vers. 6 Vers. 12 Vers. 13 Vers. 15 Vers. 24 Vers. 1 Vers. 4 Vers. 8 Vers. 4 Vers. 8 Vers. â—â— Vers. â—â— Vers. 19 Vers. 22 Vers. 4 Vers. 1 Vers. 5 Vers. 8 Vers. 9 Vers. 13 Vers. 2 Vers. 3 Vers. 1 Vers. 2 Vers. 4 Vers. â— Vers. 2 Vers. 3 Vers. 5 Vers. 7 Vers. 1 Vers. 2 Vers. 3 Vers. 8 Vers. 10 Vers. 11 Vers. 12 Vers. 14 Vers. 25 Vers. 29 Chap. 1. 18 Chap. 8. 1. Vers. 2 Vers. 8 Vers. 9 Vers. 10 Vers. 1 Vers. 2 Vers. 4 Vers. 4 Vers. 6 Vers. 17 Vers. 1 Vers. 6 Vers. 6 Vers. 3 Vers. 2