Solomon's recantation Intituled Ecclesiastes, paraphras'd. With A Soliloquy or Meditation Upon Every Chapter. By Francis Quarles |
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| I. |
| I. |
| II. |
| II. |
| III. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XII. |
 | CHAP. II. Solomon's recantation |  |
Since
Knowledge then affords my Soul no Rest,
My roving Thoughts try'd Mirth, and were possest
Of all the Pleasures Earth could lend; yet I
Found Mirth and Pleasure all but Vanity:
I laugh'd at Laughter as a toyish Antick;
And counted all my Mirth no less than frantick:
My Heart (but wisely foolish) did incline
To costly Fare, and frolick Cups of Wine,
That in these Pleasures I might find some Good,
To crown the short lif'd Days of Flesh and Blood:
I built magnifick Palaces, did frame
Great Buildings to the Glory of my Name:
I planted Vineyards, whose plump Clusters might
Rejoice my Heart, and lend my Soul Delight:
I made me fruitful Orchards for my Pleasure,
And curious Gardens to refresh my Leisure;
I stored them with Trees, and these with Bowers,
And made a Paradise of Fruits and Flowers:
I made me standing Pools, to entertain
My breathless Guests and all their num'rous Train:
I cut me Aquiducts, whose Current flees
And waters all my Wilderness of Trees:
Armies of Servants do attend my State,
Both Foreigners, and born within my Gate:
Herds I possest, and Flocks above all them
That reign'd before me in Jerusalem:
Abundant Silver, Gold, and precious Stones
By Kings presented, my Exchequer owns:
All Sorts of Musick (Earth's Delight) had I
To feed mine Ear, Beauties to please mine Eye:
Such State, Magnificence, and Princely Store,
Wondring Jerus'lem never saw before:
In all this Pomp, my Heart had not forgot
The lawful Use; my Wisdom fail'd me not:
I gave mine Eyes what e're mine Eyes requir'd,
Deny'd my Heart no Mirth my Heart desir'd:
For my poor Heart's Delight was all my Gains,
My Pleasure was the Portion of my Pains.
At length I cast my serious Eye upon
My painful Works, and what my Hands had done:
But lo, beneath the Sun no Contentation,
All, all was Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
With that I turn'd my weary Thoughts again
On Wisdom, and the Foolishness of Men;
(Search they that please to search, alas! there's none
Can search the Truth more strict than Solomon)
When my impartial Judgment did compare
Folly with Wisdom, this doth e'en as far
Excel the other, as meridian Light
Excels the Shadows of the darkest Night:
The wise Man's Eyes are in his Head; they stand
Like Watchmen in the Tower, to guard the Land:
But Fools haunt Darkness; yet my self perceive
The self-same Lot both Fools and wise Men have.
Ah! then (said I) if equal Fortune lies
For Fools and me, what Vantage to be wise?
What Profit hath my Wisdom? Then thought I,
The height of Wisdom hath her Vanity.
The foolish Bauble, and the learned Bays,
Are both forgotten in succeeding Days:
Impartial Death shall close the dying Eyes
Both of the Fool, and also of the Wise:
Therefore I hated Life, for from th'Events
Of human Actions flow my Discontents:
Life spent in Action, or in Contemplation,
Is all but Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
I hated all that e'er my Hands had done
In seeking Happiness beneath the Sun;
For what I did I cannot call mine own,
Anothers hand must reap what mine hath sown.
Who knows if my Successor is to be
A wise Man or a Fool? howe'er 'tis he
Must spend with Ease what I have earn'd with Pain
And Souls Vexation; this is also vain:
For which, my Soul (thus fool'd with vain Pursuit
Of blossom'd Happiness that bears no Fruit)
Whisper'd Despair of all that I had done
To purchase perfect Good beneath the Sun.
Some Men there be whose more elaborate Gains
(The Fruits of lawful Cares, and prudent Pains)
Descend to those that knew not Pains nor Art;
This is a Vanity and afflicts the Heart.
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?
His Days are Sorrows; tedious Griefs attend
His Travel, hopeless of a Journies End;
His restless Nights afford his closed Eye
No Slumbers: This is also Vanity.
There's nothing sweeter than to take Repast
Of Meats and Drinks, and now and then to cast
Griefs Burthen off, and gently loose the Reins
By intermingling Pleasures with our Pains:
But this, I know, lies not in our Command,
It is a Blessing from th'Almighty's Hand:
For who can eat? what Mortal can apply
His Heart to force a Pleasure more than I?
Heav'n gives the just Man Wisdom, Knowledge, Mirth;
To Sinners, Travel; to heap Earth to Earth;
Wherewith t'enrich the righteous Generation;
This is his Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
My roving Thoughts try'd Mirth, and were possest
Of all the Pleasures Earth could lend; yet I
Found Mirth and Pleasure all but Vanity:
I laugh'd at Laughter as a toyish Antick;
And counted all my Mirth no less than frantick:
My Heart (but wisely foolish) did incline
To costly Fare, and frolick Cups of Wine,
That in these Pleasures I might find some Good,
To crown the short lif'd Days of Flesh and Blood:
I built magnifick Palaces, did frame
Great Buildings to the Glory of my Name:
I planted Vineyards, whose plump Clusters might
Rejoice my Heart, and lend my Soul Delight:
I made me fruitful Orchards for my Pleasure,
And curious Gardens to refresh my Leisure;
I stored them with Trees, and these with Bowers,
And made a Paradise of Fruits and Flowers:
I made me standing Pools, to entertain
My breathless Guests and all their num'rous Train:
I cut me Aquiducts, whose Current flees
And waters all my Wilderness of Trees:
Armies of Servants do attend my State,
Both Foreigners, and born within my Gate:
9
That reign'd before me in Jerusalem:
Abundant Silver, Gold, and precious Stones
By Kings presented, my Exchequer owns:
All Sorts of Musick (Earth's Delight) had I
To feed mine Ear, Beauties to please mine Eye:
Such State, Magnificence, and Princely Store,
Wondring Jerus'lem never saw before:
In all this Pomp, my Heart had not forgot
The lawful Use; my Wisdom fail'd me not:
I gave mine Eyes what e're mine Eyes requir'd,
Deny'd my Heart no Mirth my Heart desir'd:
For my poor Heart's Delight was all my Gains,
My Pleasure was the Portion of my Pains.
At length I cast my serious Eye upon
My painful Works, and what my Hands had done:
But lo, beneath the Sun no Contentation,
All, all was Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
With that I turn'd my weary Thoughts again
On Wisdom, and the Foolishness of Men;
(Search they that please to search, alas! there's none
Can search the Truth more strict than Solomon)
When my impartial Judgment did compare
Folly with Wisdom, this doth e'en as far
Excel the other, as meridian Light
Excels the Shadows of the darkest Night:
The wise Man's Eyes are in his Head; they stand
Like Watchmen in the Tower, to guard the Land:
But Fools haunt Darkness; yet my self perceive
The self-same Lot both Fools and wise Men have.
Ah! then (said I) if equal Fortune lies
For Fools and me, what Vantage to be wise?
What Profit hath my Wisdom? Then thought I,
The height of Wisdom hath her Vanity.
The foolish Bauble, and the learned Bays,
Are both forgotten in succeeding Days:
Impartial Death shall close the dying Eyes
Both of the Fool, and also of the Wise:
10
Of human Actions flow my Discontents:
Life spent in Action, or in Contemplation,
Is all but Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
I hated all that e'er my Hands had done
In seeking Happiness beneath the Sun;
For what I did I cannot call mine own,
Anothers hand must reap what mine hath sown.
Who knows if my Successor is to be
A wise Man or a Fool? howe'er 'tis he
Must spend with Ease what I have earn'd with Pain
And Souls Vexation; this is also vain:
For which, my Soul (thus fool'd with vain Pursuit
Of blossom'd Happiness that bears no Fruit)
Whisper'd Despair of all that I had done
To purchase perfect Good beneath the Sun.
Some Men there be whose more elaborate Gains
(The Fruits of lawful Cares, and prudent Pains)
Descend to those that knew not Pains nor Art;
This is a Vanity and afflicts the Heart.
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?
His Days are Sorrows; tedious Griefs attend
His Travel, hopeless of a Journies End;
His restless Nights afford his closed Eye
No Slumbers: This is also Vanity.
There's nothing sweeter than to take Repast
Of Meats and Drinks, and now and then to cast
Griefs Burthen off, and gently loose the Reins
By intermingling Pleasures with our Pains:
But this, I know, lies not in our Command,
It is a Blessing from th'Almighty's Hand:
For who can eat? what Mortal can apply
His Heart to force a Pleasure more than I?
Heav'n gives the just Man Wisdom, Knowledge, Mirth;
To Sinners, Travel; to heap Earth to Earth;
11
This is his Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
| CHAP. II. Solomon's recantation | |