Creator by Thy flame is not thy owne It is a Det Thou ow'st thy Maker And wilt thou deny To pay the Int'rest of thy Light And skulk in Corners and play least in sight 6. Art thou affraid to trust thy easie flame To the injurious wast of Fortunes puffe Ah Coward rouze and quit thy selfe for shame Who dies in service hath liv'd long enough Who shines and makes no eye partaker Vsurps himselfe and closely robbs his Maker 7. Take not thy selfe a Pris'ner that art free Why dost thou turne thy Palace to a Iaile Thou art an Eagle And befits it thee To live immured like a cloysterd Snaile Let Toies seeke Corners Things of cost Gaine worth by view Hid Iewels are but lost 8. My God my light is dark enough at lightest Encrease her flame and give her strength to shine T is fraile at best T is dimme enough at brightest But 't is her glory to be foyld by Thine Let others lurke My light shall be Propos'd to all men and by them to Thee St. BERN. If thou be one of the foolish Virgins the Congregation is necessary for thee If thou be one of the wise Virgins thou art necessary for the Congregation HUGO Monasticks make cloysters to inclose the outward man O would to God they would doe the like to restraine the inward Man EPIG 8. Affraid of eyes What still play least in sight T is much to be presum'd all is not right Too close endeavours bring forth dark events Come forth Monastick Here 's no Parliaments Vt Luna Infantia torpet Will Marshall sculpsit He cometh forth like a Flower and is cut downe IOB 14. 2. 1. Behold How short a span Was long enough of old To measure out the life of Man In those wel temper'd days his time was then Survey'd cast up and found but threescore years and ten 2. Alas And what is that They come slide and pass Before my Pen can tell thee what The Posts of Time are swift which having run Their sev'n short stages 'ore their short liv'd task is don 3. Our daies Begun wee lend To sleepe to antick plaies And Toyes untill the first stage end 12. waining Moons twise 5. times told we give To unrecover'd loss Wee rather breathe then live 4. Wee spend A ten years breath Before wee apprehend What is to live or feare a death Our childish dreams are fil'd with painted joys W ch please our sense a while waking prove but Toies 5. How vaine How wretched is Poore man that doth remain A slave to such a State as this His daies are short at longest few at most They are but bad at best yet lavisht out or lost 6. They bee The secret Springs That make our minits flee On wheels more swift theÌ„ Eagles wings Our life 's a Clocke and ev'ry gaspe of breath Breathes forth a warning grief til Time shal strike a death 7. How soone Our new-born Light Attaines to full-ag'd noone And this how soon to gray-hayr'd night Wee spring we bud we blossome and we blast E're we can count our daies Our daies they flee so fast 8. They end When scarce begun And ere wee apprehend That we begin to live our life is don Man Count thy daies And if they flee too fast For thy dull thoughts to count count ev'rie day thy last Our Infancy is consumtd in eating and sleeping in all which time what differ we from beasts but by a possibility of reason and a necessity of sinne O misery of mankind in whom no sooner the Image of God appeares in the act of his Reason but the Devill blurres it in the corruption of his will EPIG 9. To the decrepit Man Thus was the first seav'nth part of thy few daies Consum'd in sleep in food in Toyish plaies Knowst thou what teares thine eies imparted then Review thy losse and weep them o're agen Proles tua Maia Iuventus Will Marshall sculpsit His bones are full of the sinnes of his youth IOB 20. 11. 1. THe swift-foot Post of Time hath now begun His second Stage The dawning of our Age Is lost and spent without a Sun The light of Reason did not yet appeare Within th' Horizon of this Hemispheare 2. The infant Will had yet none other guide But twilight Sense And what is gayn'd from thence But doubtfull Steps that tread aside Reason now draws her Curtains Her clos'd eyes Begin to open and she calls to rise 3. Youths now disclosing Bud peeps out and showes Her Aprill head And from her grass greene bed Her virgin Primerose early blowes Whil'st waking Philomel prepares to sing Her warbling Sonets to the wanton Spring 4. His Stage is pleasant and the way seemes short All strow'd with flowers The daies appeare but howers Being spent in time-beguiling sport Here griefes do neither press nor doubts perplex Here 's neither feare to curb nor care to vex His downie Cheek growes proud and now disdaines The Tutors hand He glories to command The proud neckt Steed with prouder Reynes The strong breath'd Horne must now salute his eare With the glad downefall of the falling Deare 6. His quicknos'd Armie with their deepmouth'd sounds Must now prepare To chase the tim'rous Hare About his yet unmorgag'd Grounds The ev'll he hates is Counsell and delay And feares no mischief but a rainie day 7. The thought he takes is how to take no thought For bale nor blisse And late Repentance is The last deare Pen ' worth that he bought He is a daintie Morning and he may If lust ' orecast him not b' as faire a Day 8. Proud Blossom use thy Time Times headstrong Horse Will post away Trust not the foll'wing day For ev'râ—e day brings forth a worse Take Time at best Beleeve 't thy daies will fall From good to bad From bad to worst of all St. AMB. Humility is a rore thing in a young man therefore to be admired When youth is vigorous when strength is firme when blood is hot when Cares are strangers when mirth is free then Pride swells and humility is dispised EPIG 10. To the old Man Thy yeares are newly gray His newly Greene His youth may live to see what thine hath seene Hee is thy Parallel His present Stage And thine are the two Tropicks of Mans Age. Iam ruit in Venerem Will Marshall sculpsit Rejoyce O young man and let thy heart cheare thee but know c. ECCLES 11. 9. HOw flux how alterable is the date Of transitory things How hurry'd on the clipping wings Of Time and driv'n upon the wheeles of Fate How one Condition brings The leading Prologue to an other State No transitory thing can last Change waits on Time and Time is wing'd with hast Time present's but the Ruins of Time past 2. Behold how Change hath incht away thy Span And how thy light does burne Nearer and nearer to thy Vrne For this deare wast what satisfaction can Injurious time returne Thy shortned daies but this the Stile of Man And
what â—â—ve what confidence deserves so sweet a saying For their presence â—everence for their good will love for their tuition confidence EPIG 5. My flame art thou disturb'd diseas'd and driv'n To Death with stormes of griefe Poynt thou to heav'n One Angel there shall ease thee more alone Then thrice as many thousands of thy owne Tempus erit Will Marshall sculpsit To every thing there is an appointed time ECCLES 3. 1. Time Death Time BEhold the frailty of this slender snuffe Alas it hath not long to last Without the helpe of either Thiefe or puffe Her weakness knowes the way to wast Nature hath made her Substance apt enough To spend it selfe and spend too fast It needs the help of none That is so prone To lauish out untoucht and languish all alone Death 2. Time hold thy peace and shake thy slow pac'd Sand Thy idle Minits make no way Thy glass exceeds her how'r or else does stand I can not hold I can not stay Surcease thy pleading and enlarge my hand I surfet with too long delay This brisk this boldfac'd Light Does burne too bright Darkness adornes my throne my day is darkest night Time 3. Great Prince of darknesse hold thy needless hand Thy Captiv's fast and can not flee What arme can rescue Who can countermand What pow'r can set thy Pris'ner free Or if they could what close what forrein land Can hide that head that flees from Thee But if her harmeless light Offend thy sight What needst thou snatch at noone what will be thine at night Death 4. I have outstaid my patience My quick Trade Growes dull and makes too slow returne This long-liv'd det is due and should bin paid When first her flame began to burne But I have staid too long I have delayd To store my vast my craving Vrne My Patent gives me pow'r Each day each how'r To strike the Peasants thatch and shake the Princely Tow'r Time 5. Thou count'st too fast Thy Patent gives no Pow'â— Till Time shall please to say Amen Death Canst thou appoint my shaft Time Or thou my How'r Death T is I bid doe Time T is I bid When. Alas thou canst not make the poorest Flow'r To hang the drooping head till then Thy shafts can neither Kill Nor strike untill My power give them wings and pleasure arme thy will St. AUGUST Thou knowest not what Time he will come Wait alwaies that beâ—ause thou knowest not the time of his comming thou maiest be preâ—ared against the time he comes And for this perchance thou knowst not the Time because thou maiest be prepared against all times EPIG 6. Expect but feare not Death Death cannot Kill â—ill Time that first must seale her Patent will Wouldst thou live long Keepe Time in high esteeme Whom gone if thou canst not recall redeeme Nec sine nec Tecum Will Marshall sculpsit His light shall be dark and his candle shall be put out IOB 18. 6. VVHat ayles our Tapour Is her luster fled Or foyl'd What dire disaster bred This Change that thus she vailes her golden head 2. It was but very now she shin'd as faire As Venus starre Her glory might compare With Cynthia burnisht with her brothers haire 3. There was no Cave-begotten damp that mought Abuse her beames no wind that went about To breake her peace no Puffe to put her out 4. â—â—ft up thy wondring thoughts and thou shalt spye 〈◊〉 Cause will cleare thy doubts but cloud thine eye Subjects must vaile when as their Sov'raign's by 5. â—anst thou behold bright Phoebus and thy sight â—o whit impayr'd The object is too bright â—he weaker yeelds unto the stronger Light 6. â—reat God I am thy Tapour Thou my Sunne â—rom thee the Spring of Light my Light begun â—et if thy Light but Shine my light is done 7. 〈◊〉 thou withdraw thy Light my light will shine 〈◊〉 thine appeare how poore a light is mine â—y light is darkness if compar'd to thine 8 â—hy Sun-beames are too strong for my weake eye 〈◊〉 thou but shine how nothing Lord am I â—h who can see thy visage and not die 9. If intervening earth should make a night My wanton flame would then shine forth too bright My earth would ev'n presume t' eclipse thy Light 10 And if thy Light be shadow'd and mine fade If thine be dark and my dark light decayd I should be cloathed with a double shade 11. What shall I doe O what shall I desire What help can my distracted thoughts require That thus am wasting twixt a double Fire 12. In what a streight in what a streight am I Twixt two extreames how my rackt fortunes lie See I thy face or see it not I die 13. O let the steame of my Redeemers blood That breaths fro' my sick soule be made a Cloud T'interpose these Lights and be my shroud 14. Lord what am I or what 's the light I have May it but light my Ashes to their Grave And so from thence to Thee 't is all I crave 15. O make my Light that all the world may see Thy Glory by 't If not It seemes to me Honour enough to be put out by Thee O Light inaccessible in respect of which my light is utter darkness so reflect upon my weaknes that at all the world may behold thy strength O Majesty incomprehensible in respect of which my glory is meere shame so shine upon my misery that all the world may behold thy glory EPIG 7. Wilt thou complaine because thou art bereiv'n Of all thy light Wilt thou vie Lights with Heav'n Can thy bright eye not brooke the daily light Take heed I feare thou art a Child of night Nec Virtus obscurapetit Will Marshall sculpsit Let your light so shine that men seeing your good workes may glorifie your Father which is in Heaven MAT. 5. 16. VVAs it for this the breath of Heav'n was blowne Into the nostrils of this Heav'nly Creature Was it for this that sacred Three in One Conspir'd to make this Quintessence of Nature Did heav'nly Providence intend So rare a Fabrick for so poore an end 2. Was Man the highest Master-peece of Nature The curious Abstract of the whole Creation Whose soule was copied from his great Creator Made to give Light and set for Observation Ordain'd for this To spend his Light In a darke-Lanthorne Cloystred up in night 3. Tell me recluse Monastick can it be A disadvantage to thy beames to shine A thousand Tapours may gaine light from Thee Is thy Lightless or worse for lighting mine If wanting Light I stumble shall Thy darkness not be guilty of my fall 4. Why dost thou lurk so close Is it for feare Some busie eye should pry into thy flame And spie a Thiefe or else some blemish there Or being spy'd shrink'st thou thy head for shame Come come fond Tapour shine but cleare Thou needst not shrink for shame nor shroud for feare 5. Remember O remember thou wert set For men to see the Great
what 's a Man A cask of Care New tunn'd and working Hee 's a middle Staire Twixt birth and death A blast of ful ag'd Ayre 3. His brest is Tinder apt to entertaine The sparks of Cupids fire Whose new-blowne flames must now enquire â— wanton Iuilippe out which may restraine The Rage of his desire Whose painfull pleasure is but pleasing paine His life 's a sicknes that doth rise â—rom a hot Liver whilst his passion lies â—xpecting Cordials from his Mistress eyes 4. His Stage is strowd with Thornes and deckt with Flowers His yeare sometimes appeares A Minit and his Minits yeares His doubtfull Weather's sun-shine mixt with showers His traffique Hopes and Feares His life 's a Medly made of sweets and sowers His paines reward is Smiles and Pouts His diet is faire language mixt with â—louts He is a Nothing all compos'd of Doubts 5. Doe wast thy Inch proud Span of living earth Consume thy golden daies In slavish freedome Let thy waies Take best advantage of thy frolick mirth Thy Stock of Time decaies And lavish plenty still foreruns a Dearth The bird that 's flowne may turne at last And painefull labour may repaire a wast But paines nor price can call thy minits past SEN. Expect great joy when thou shalt lay downe the mind of a Child and deserve the stile of a wise man for at those yeares childhood is past but oftentimes child shness remaines and what is worse thou hast the Authority of a Man but the vices of a Childe EPIG 11. To the declining Man Why standst thou discontented Is not he As equall distant from the Toppe as thee What then may cause thy discontented frowne Hee 's mounting up the Hill Thou plodding downe Vt Sol ardore Virilj Will Marshall sculpsit As thy daies so shall thy strength be DEUT. 33. 25. The Post Of swift foot Time Hath now at length begun The Kalends of our middle Stage The number'd Steps that we have gone do show The number of those Steps wee are to goe The Buds and blossoms of our Age Are blowne decay'd and gone And all our prime Is lost And what we boast too much we have least cause to boast Ah mee There is no Rest Our Time is alwaies fleeing What Rein can curb our headstroÌ„g hours They post away They passe wee know not how Our Now is gone before wee can say Now Time past and futur's none of ours That hath as yet no Being And This hath ceast To bee What is is onely ours How short a Time have Wee And now Apolloes eare Expects harmonious straines New minted froÌ„ the Thracian Lyre For now the Virtue of the twiforkt Hill Inspires the ravisht fancy and doth fill The veines with Pegasean fire And now those sterill braines That cannot show Nor beare Some fruits shall never weare Apollos sacred Bow Excesse And surfet uses To wait upon these daies Full feed and flowing cup of wine Conjure the fancy forcing up a Spright By the base Magick of deboysd delight Ah pittie twise borne Bacchus Vine Should starve Apollo's Bayes And drown those Muses That blesse And calm the peaceful soule wheÌ„ storms of cares oppres Strong light Boast not those beames That can but onely rise And blaze a while and then away There is no Solstice in thy day Thy midnight glory lies Betwixt th' extrems Of night A Glory foyld with shame and foold with false delight Hast thou climbd up to the full age of thy few daies Look backwards and thou shalt see the frailty of thy youth the foll of thy Childhood and the waste of thy Infancy Looke forwards thou shalt see the cares of the world the troubles of thy mind the diseases of thy body EPIG 12. To the midle ag'd Thou that art prauncing on the lustie Noone Of thy full Age boast not thy selfe too soone Convert that breath to wayle thy fickle state Take heed thou l't brag too soone or boast too late Et Martem spirat et arma Will Marshall sculpsit Hee must encrease but I must decrease IOH. 3. 30. TIme voyds the Table Dinner 's done And now our daies declining Sun Hath hurried his diurnall Loade To th' Borders of the Westerne roade Fierce Phlegon with his fellow Steeds Now puffes and pants and blowes and bleeds And froths and fumes remembring still Their lashes up th' Olympick Hill Which having conquerd now disdaine The whip and champs the frothy reyn And with a full Career they bend Their paces to their Iournies end Our blazing Tapour now hath lost Her better halfe Nature hath crost Her forenoone book and cleard that score But scarce gives trust for so much more And now the gen'rous Sappe forsakes Her seir-grown twig A breath ev'n shakes The down-ripe fruit fruit soon divorc'd From her deare Branch untouchd unforc'd Now sanguine Venus doth begin To draw her wanton colours in And flees neglected in disgrace Whil'st Mars supplies her lukewarm place Blood turnes to Choler What this Age Loses in strength it finds in Rage That rich Ennamell which of old Damaskt the downy Cheeke and told A harmeless guilt unaskt is now Worne off from the audacious brow Luxurious Dalliance midnight Revells Loose Ryot and those veniall evils Which inconsiderate youth of late Could pleade now wants an Advocate And what appeard in former times Whispring as faults now roare as crimes And now all yee whose lippes were wont To drench their Currall in the Font Of forkt Parnassus you that be The Sons of Phocbus and can flee On wings of Fancy to display The Flagge of high invention stay Repose your Quills Your veines grow sower Tempt not your Salt beyond her power If your pall'd Fancies but decline Censure will strike at every line And wound your names The popular eare Weighs what you are not what you were Thus hackney like we tire our Age Spurgall'd with Change from Stage to Stage Seest thou the daily light of the greater world When attaind to the higâ—est pâ—tch of Meridian glory it staieth not but by the same degrees it ascended it descends And is the light of the lesser world more premanent Continuance is the Child of Eternity not of Time EPIG 13. To the young Man Young man rejoyce And let thy rising daies Cheare thy glad heart Thinkst thou these uphill waies Leade to deaths dungeon No but know withall Arising is but Prologue to a Fall Invidiosa Senectus Will Marshall sculpsit Yet a little while is the light with you IOH. 12. 35. 1. THe day growes old The low pitcht Lamp hath made No lesse than treble shade And the descending damp does now prepare T'uncurle bright Titans haire Whose Westerne Wardrobe now begins t' unfold Her purples fring'd with gold To cloathe his evening glory when th' alarmes Of Rest shall call to rest in restless Thetis armes 2. Nature now calls to Supper to refresh The spirits of all flesh The toyling ploughman drives his thirsty Teames To tast the slipp'ry Streames The droyling Swineheard knocks away
and feasts His hungry-whining guests The boxbill Ouzle and the dappled Thrush Like hungry Rivals meet at their beloved bush 3. And now the cold Autumnall dewes are seene To copwebbe every Greene And by the low-shorne Rowins doth appeare The fast-declining yeare The Sapless Branches d'off their summer Suits And waine their winter fruits And stormy blasts have forc'd the quaking Trees To wrap their trembling limbs in Suits of mossie Freeze 4. Our wasted Tapour now hath brought her light To the next dore to night Her sprightless flame grown great with snuffe does tuâ—â— Sad as her neighb'ring Vrne Her slender Inch that yet unspent remaines Lights but to further paines And in a silent language bids her guest Prepare his wearie limbs to take eternall Rest. 5. Now carkfull Age hath pitcht her painefull plough Vpon the furrow'd brow And snowie blasts of discontented Care Hath blancht the falling haire Suspitious envie mixt with jealous Spight Disturb's his wearie night He threatens youth with age And now alas He ownes not what he is but vaunts the Man he was 6. Gray haires peruse thy daies And let thy past Reade lectures to thy last Those hastie wings that hurri'd them away Will give these daies no Day The constant wheeles of Nature scorne to tyre Vntill her worke expire That blast that nipt thy youth will ruine Thee That hand that shooke the branch will quicklie strike the Tree St. CHRYS Gray hayres are honourable when the behaviour suits with gray hayres But when an ancient man hath childish manners he becomes more rediculous than a childe SEN. Thou art in vaine attained to old yeares that repeatest thy youthfulnesse EPIG 14. To the Youth Seest thou this good old man He represents Thy Future Thou his Preterperfect Tense Thou go'st to labour He prepares to Rest Thou break'st thy Fast He suppes Now which is best Plumbeus in terram Will Marshall sculpsit The dayes of our yeares are threescore yeares and ten PSAL. 90. 10. 1. SO have I seene th' illustrious Prince of Light Rising in glorie from his Crocean bed And trampling downe the horrid shades of night Advancing more and more his conq'ring head Pause first decline at length begin to shroud His fainting browes within a cole black cloud 2. So have I seene a well built Castle stand Vpon the Tiptoes of a lofty Hill Whose active pow'r commands both Sea and Land And curbs the pride of the Beleag'rers will At length her ag'd Foundation failes her trust And layes her tottring ruines in the Dust. 3. So have I seene the blazing Tapour shoot Her golden head into the feeble Ayre Whose shadow-gilding Ray spred round about Makes the foule face of black-brow'd darknesse faire Till at the length her wasting glory fades And leaves the night to her invet'rate shades 4. Ev'n so this little world of living Clay The pride of Nature glorified by Art Whom earth adores and all her hosts obay Ally'd to Heav'n by his Diviner part Triumphs a while then droops and then decaies And worne by Age Death cancells all his daies 5. That glorious Sun that whilom shone so bright Is now ev'n ravisht from our darkned eyes That sturdy Castle man'd with so much might Lyes now a Monument of her owne disguize That blazing Tapour that disdain'd the puffe Of troubled Ayre scarce ownes the name of Snuffe 6. Poore bedrid Man where is that glory now Thy Youth so vaunted Where that Maiesty Which sat enthron'd upon thy manly brow Where where that braving Arme that daring eye Those buxom tunes Those Bacchanalian Tones Those swelling veynes those marrow-flowing bones 7. Thy drooping Glory 's blurrd and prostrate lyes Grov'ling in dust And frightfull Horror now Sharpens the glaunces of thy gashfull eyes Whilst feare perplexes thy distracted brow Thy panting brest vents all her breath by groanes And Death enervs thy marrow-wasted bones 8. Thus Man that 's borne of woman can remaine But a short time His dayes are full of sorrow His life 's a penance and his death 's a paine Springs like a flow'r to day and fades to morrow His breath 's a bubble and his daies a Span. T is glorious misery to be borne a Man CYPR. When eyes are dimme eares deafe visage pale teeth decaied skin withered breath tainted pipes furred knees trembling hands fumbling feet fayling the sudden downefall of thy fleshly house is neare at hand St. AUGUST All vices wax old by Age Covetousness alone growes young EPIG 15. To the Infant What he doth spend in groanes thou spendst in teares Iudgment and strength 's alike in both your yeares Hee 's helpless so art thou What difference than Hee 's an old Infant Thou a young old Man THE END