Du Bartas His Divine Weekes And Workes with A Compleate Collectio[n] of all the other most delight-full Workes: Translated and written by yt famous Philomusus: Iosvah Sylvester |
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| MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.
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1045
MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.
Written in Tablets, or Quatrains, By Piere Mathiev. The Second Centurie. Translated; and Dedicated To the Right Honourable, Robert Devrevx, Earle of Essex and Ew &c.
[Your double Title to My single heart]
Your double Title to My single heart,Both by your Purchase, and your Parents Right;
Claims both a better and a greater Part
Of gratefull Service, than This slender Mite.
Yet, sith (to profit, more than please) I write
More Sighes than Songs (less vs'd to Smiles than Smart)
Disdain not These Restrainers of Delight;
Though bitter, fitter, than the Smoothing Art,
To keep the Minde and Bodie both in Health;
To coole the Fits of Lust, Ambition, Pride
(Surfaits of Ease, Youth, Liberty, and Wealth)
And cure All Sickness of the Soule, beside.
Whence, Ever free; and full of Every Good
From GOD and Men, be ESSEX Noble Bud.
Ex Animo exoptat
Iosvah Sylvester.
1046
MEMORIALS OF MORTALITIE.
1
That height of Kings, Crowns Honour, Worthies wonder,Is now but winde, dust, shade. Hee, whose Approach
Appall'd the Proudest, Whom All trembled vnder,
A cursed base hand butcherd in his Coach.
2
All Triumph, yesterday; to-day, all Terror:Nay; the fair Morning over-cast yer Even:
Nay; one short Hour saw, live and dead, Wars Mirror,
Having Death's speed-stroak vndiscerned given.
3
In all This World, All's fickle; nought is firm:It is a Sea, sanz Safety, Calm, or Port:
Lawes, Cities, Empires, have but heer their Term:
Whatever's born must vnder death resort.
4
Time flits as Winde, and as a Torrent swifteth:It passeth quick, and Nought can stop it flying:
Who knowes what Ills it every Moment drifteth,
Deems, that To leave to live, is To leave dying.
5
Man in the Womb knowes nothing of his State:(A wile of Nature) for, there, had hee Reason,
Hee should foreknowe this Worlds too-wretched Fate;
And rather would intomb him in that Prison.
6
Our Birth begins our Beer; our Death, our Breath:On that Condition Heer aboord wee com:
To bee's as not to bee: Birth is but Death:
Ther's but a Sigh from Table to the Tomb.
1047
7
Life's but a Flash, a Fume, a Froath, a Fable,A Puffe, a Picture in the Water seeming;
A waking Dream, Dreams Shadow, Shadowes Table,
Troubling the Brain with idle Vapours steeming.
8
Life, to the life, The Chess-boord lineats;Where Pawnes and Kings have equall Portion:
This leaps, that limps, this checks, that necks, that mates:
Their Names are diverse; but their Wood is one.
9
Death, Exile, Sorrow, Fear, Distraction, Strife,And all those Evils, seen before suspected;
Are not the Pains, but Tributes of this Life;
Whence, Kings no more than Carters are protected.
10
No: Sacraments have been no SanctuarieFrom Death; Nor Altars, for Kings offring-vp:
Th'Hell hallowd Host poysons Imperiall Harry:
Pope Victor dies drinking th'immortall Cup.
11
Thou ow'st thy Soule to Heav'n: to pay that DebtBe not compell'd; Christians are willing Payers:
But, yet, thy Soule as a Good Guest intreat;
Whom no good Hoste will tumble down the Stairs.
12
'Tis better fall, then still to fear a fall:'Tis better die, then to be still a-dying:
The End of Pain ends the Complaint withall:
And nothing grieves that comes but once, and flying.
13
This Life's a Web, woven fine for som, som gross;Som Hemp, som Flax, som longer, shorter som:
Good and Ill Haps are but the Threeds across:
And first or last, Death cuts it from the Loom.
14
These Names, which make som blubber, som so brave(Names sprung from Iniury, or from Ambition)
In Death are equall: Earle, and Sir, and Slave,
Vnder his Empire, are in one Condition.
15
For Friends Deceast, cease not repast nor Sleep;Such Sorrow sutes not th'Intellectuall part:
Who wailes mans Death, that he was man doth weep:
And, that He promist, comming to depart.
16
The Young and old goe not as equall pas't:Th'one ambles swift, the other gallopeth:
Tis good to die, yer we our Life distaste.
A valiant Man should dare to feel his Death.
1048
17
Happy who leave the World when first they come;Th'Aire, at the best, is heer contagious thick:
Happy that Childe, who issuing from the Wombe
Of's Spanish Mother, there returned quick,
18
The Bodie's Torments are but Twigs to beatAnd brush the Dust from Vertues pleights about;
And make the Passions of the Soule more neat:
As th'Aier is purest when the windes roar-out.
19
Grieving that Death shuts not thine Eyes at home,And where the Heav'ns vouchsaf't them first to ope;
Thou sear'st the Earth too little for thy Tombe,
And Heav'n too-narrow so thy Corpses Cope.
20
Heav'ns no less Order have, then at their Birth,Nor Influence: Sun, Moon, and Stars, as bright;
All hold their owne; Fire, Water, Aier, and Earth:
Man, Man alone's fall'n from his pristine Plight.
21
Worldling, thou saist, 'Tis yet not time to mend;But, God hates Sinners that in Sin delight:
To grossest Sinners doth he Mercy send;
But, not to Sinners sinning in despight.
22
Who, Morn and Even, doth of Himselfe demandAccount of All that he hath done, said, thought;
Shall finde him much eas'd, when he comes to stand
To that Account where all shall once be brought.
23
For bitter Checks that make thy, Cheeks to flame,And to thy Teeth tell Truths, thou hast no Action:
To doe the Evill, sith thou hadst no shame,
Be not asham'd to suffer thy Correction.
24
Perhaps, this Childe, shall Rich, or Poor, become:Perhaps a Wretch, perhaps a Liberall:
Perhaps a Wise-man, and perhaps a Mome:
But, past perhaps, assured, die he shall.
25
When Wine runs lowe, it is not worth the sparing?The worst and least doth to the Bottom dive:
Wrong not thy leisure (yeers vouchsafe) in daring:
But som-times look into thy Grave, alive.
26
Sinner, thy God is not inexorable;No Radamanth, Returning hearts to hate:
There is no Sin, in Heav'n vnpardonable;
Nor no Repentance in this Life, too late.
1049
27
The Eye that fixly the Sun-beames beholds,Is sudden daz'd: So, in God's Iudgements high,
Mens cleerest Iudgements are as blind as Moules:
None, none but Eagles, can the Lightning eye.
28
O wretched Vertue! wretched is Thy state;For, fortune hath the Fruit, Thou scarce the Flower:
Thou art a Stranger at thy proper Gate,
Thy Friends thence banisht, and thy Foes in Bower.
29
Man, Knowledge still, to the last gaspe, affecteth;In learning, Socrates, lives, grayes, and dyes.
Free from Death's Process Knowledge none protecteth:
But, to learn Well to die, is to be Wise.
30
To live, is to begin One-work, and end it:Life hath, with All, not same Repute, Report;
'T's an Exile, to the Sot; Sage, Iourney ween'd it:
Wherein He walkes, not as the Common-sort.
31
For having a good Prince, Peers iust and wise,Obedient People, Peace concluded fast,
A State's not sure: Storms after Calms arise;
And fairest Dayes have foulest over-cast.
32
Man, though thou be from Heav'n Originary,Presume not yet to Peer thee with thy God:
Hee's Soverain King; Thou but his Tributary.
Hee's every where; Thou but in one poor Clod.
33
Of Elephants, the biggest leads the Band;The strongest Bull over the Heard doth raign:
But, Him behooves who will Mankind command,
Not ablest Body, but the aptest Brain.
34
Kings Maiesty seems as eclipsed much,Vnless great Servants in great Troops attend:
'Tis sure an Honour to be serv'd by Such;
But, on Their Faith 'tis fearfull to depend.
35
To build a Palace, rarest Stones are sought:To build a Ship, best Timber is selected:
But, to instruct young Princes (as they ought)
Ought all the Vertues to be there collected.
36
Art's now-adayes a Desert desolate:Kings gracious Raies are there no more discerned:
Philosophers wait at the Wealthies Gate,
And rarely Rich men do regard the Learned.
1050
37
Th'hand bindeth not except the heart with-go:What comes not thence, nor Thank, nor Thought deserves.
He giveth All that doth Himselfe bestow;
He Nothing gives who but his heart reserves.
38
That curious Thirst of Travaile to and fro,Yeelds not the Fruit it promis'd men in minde:
Changing their Aire, their humors change not tho;
But, many Lodgings, and few Friends they finde.
39
In vain the Soule hath Reason's Attribute,Which vnto Reason cannot Sense submit:
For, Man (alas!) is bruter then a Brute,
Vnless that Reason bridle Appetite.
40
Self-swelling Knowledge, Wits owne Overbearer,Proves Ignorance, and findes it Nothing knowes:
It flies the Truth to follow Lyes and Error:
And, when most right it weens, most wry it goes.
41
The Vicious trembles, alwaies in Alarms;Th'Eye of the Vertuous keeps him as at Bay:
When All the World fear'd Rome's All-reaching Arms,
One vertuous Cato did all Rome dismay.
42
Vice blinds the Soule, and Vnderstanding clogs,Makes good of ill, takes foule for fairest look,
Yea, Durt for Dainties: so live loathsom Frogs,
Rather in Puddles than in purest Brook.
43
In Greatest Houses Vice hath battered,Whose Honors though no less have shined bright:
What are the Graceless to the Good? Not dead,
But living Branches, in the Tree have Right.
44
If Men might freely take Essay of Court;None, having tasted, would return so neer:
The happiest there meets many a Spight in Sport,
And knows too-well he buyes his Weal too-deer.
45
To love None, All to doubt; to fain, to flatter;To form new Faces, and transform true harts;
To offer Service, and flie-off in Matter;
Are Courtiers Lessons, and their Ground of Arts.
46
Set not thy Rest on Court, Seas barren sand;There grows no Goodness; good, there, evill growes:
Rest's Temple yerst did forth the Citie stand:
No Sent's so sweet, as is the Country Rose.
1051
47
Who weens in Court to thrive, will find him weak,Without two Aiders; Impudence, Immunitie:
For, first behooves him his owne Brows to break,
Yer Others heads he break with Importunitie.
48
Who is not sory for Time's loss, in stayFor Kings slowe Favours, seems to have no sense:
The loss of Goods a Prince may well repay,
But loss of Time Kings cannot recompence.
49
Is't not the Top of Follies Top, to noteAn Old Sir Tame-ass gallanting in Court,
To play the Yonker, and Swan-white to dote
On Venus Dovelings, in despite of Sport?
50
A mean Man hardly scapes the Mightie's Clawes;Hee's as a Mouse play'ng by a sleeping Cat;
Who lets it run, then locks it in her Pawes:
And all her sports boad but the Death of That.
51
Worlds Vanitie is rife in every place,(Alas! that good Wits should be 'witched so!)
Maskt in the Church, in Court with open Face.
For there's the place her perfectly to know.
52
By evill Manners is good Nature marred;None fals at once, all Vertue to defie.
Vice, in the Soule is a strange Plant transferred:
And wer't not dressed, it would quickly die.
53
With By-Respects Impietie we cover:Earth more then Heav'ns is priz'd among vs Now:
At God's great Name we scarce our heads vncover;
When Kings are named, every knee doth bow.
54
Disorder Order breeds: good Lawes have sprungFrom Evill lives: Would All keep Iustice line,
In Westminster there would be soon less Throng,
Less Work, less Wrack, less Words for Mine and Thine.
55
Law-tricks now strip the People to their shirt:Shift is their Shield, Gold is their only God:
Wasps break the Web, Flies are held fast and hurt:
The Guilty quit, the Guiltless vnder-trod.
56
Ther's now no trust: Brother betraies his Brother:Faith's but a phantsie, but by Fools esteemd:
Friend's false to Friend; and All deceive each-other;
Th'Ivie puls down the Wall by which it climbd.
1052
57
Treasons be Trifles: Man's a Wolfe to Man:Crimes be but Crums; Vice is for Vertue vanted;
Sodom's and Cypris Sinnes we suffer can:
And Impious tricks in all their Tracks are hanted.
58
In perfect'st Men som Imperfection's found,Som-what amiss among their good is seen:
Gold, and pure Gold we dig not from the ground;
There's Dust and Dross, and grosser stuffe between.
59
Merit, of old did Friendship feed and fix;Where now-adayes 'tis founded all on Profit,
With deep Dissembling and Deceitfull-tricks,
And evermore the Poor is frustrate of it.
60
Th'Earth cannot fill thy hearts vnequall Angles,Thy Heart's a Triangle, the Earth's a Round:
A Triangle is fill'd but with Triangles:
And th'infinite the finite cannot bound.
61
'T's a Death to die far from ones Native Citie:Yet Death's not milder there, then else-about:
Death, without Rome, did not Rutilius pitie;
Neither, within Rome, Him that ne'r went out.
62
When Man is com'n to th'old last Cast of Age,When Nature can no longer lend nor borrow;
He thinks not yet to pack, and leave the Stage;
But still, still hopes to live vntill to-Morrow.
63
Fain, would'st thou flie Loue's wanton Luxury?Cut off Occasions: speake far-off; fly Fitness:
Shun Solitude: live still in Company:
They fall alone that would not fall with witness.
64
Muse not, to see the Wicked prosper faire:The Sun his Shine even vnto Theeves doth give:
When of their Patients Leaches do despaire,
They give them over as they list to live.
65
Slander is worser than Hell's burning Torture,The force more fierce, the Heat more vehement:
Hell, after Death, doth but the Guilty martyr;
Slander, alive, torments the Innocent.
66
Affliction razes, and then raises hearts:As, vnder Waight, victorious Palms are wont:
As, vnder Seales the Wax doth swell (in part);
Vnder the Cross the Soule to Heav'n doth mount.
1053
67
Envie, in vain pure Vertues Anvill bites,Breaking her Teeth: as on a Stone the Cur,
That barks of Custom, rather then Despight,
At every poore and harmless Passenger.
68
Envie's a Torture which doth Men molest;Even from their Birth; yet they ought else can doo:
Behold Two Infants nursed at one Brest;
They cannot brook their Teat for meat to Two.
69
This is the Ods twixt Honest men and Knaves;Th'one tels his Neighbour, All mine owne is mine,
And all Thine too: The other (void of Braves)
Saith, Thine's not Mine; but what I have is Thine.
70
What Envy likes not, that she makes a Fault:Ioseph with Ismael, for his Dream, was barter'd:
Abels pure Offring to his End him brought:
And for the Truth the Innocent are martyrd.
71
Flat-Cap, for whom, hoord'st thou thy heaped Treasures?Thy Bodies Sweat, thy Soule's deer Price (poor Sot!)?
Sir Prodige-all (thine Heire) in Protean Pleasures,
Will waste, in one Day, All thine Age hath got.
72
True Liberality would be intire:Yet not at-once, at all times, and to all.
One may mis-give, to give yer one require:
Yet Gifts vn-asked sweetest Gifts I call.
73
Content with Fruits from thine owne Labour grow'n,A fore-hand still, a set Revenew save:
For, Hee's a Foole in more respects than one,
That spends his Store, or more, before he have.
74
There is no Goodness in a groveling heart,Bent on the World, bound to this Rock belowe:
Were not the Moon so neer this Neather part,
Shee would not, could not, be Eclipsed so.
75
Goods are great Ills to those that cannot vse them:Misers mis-keep, and Prodigals mis-spend-them:
Hell-hounds, to hasten toward Hell, abuse-them:
As Wings, to Heav'n-ward, heav'n-bent-Souls extend them.
76
Presumptuous Spirits spring not from right Nobility:Courage, that comes from Pride proves never true:
Pride ruines hearts whose Raiser is Humility:
The humble Shepheard the proud Giant slew.
1054
77
Pride glitters oft vnder an humble Weed:Oft lovely Names are given to loath'd Effects;
Men sooth them in the Cause, to 'scuse th'ill Deed:
And blame Light, rather than their Sight's Defect.
78
A Prudent man is, for Him-self, sought-forth:Hee's more admir'd then what the World most vants:
Praises are due vnto ones proper Worth:
Not purest Gold addes Price to Diamants.
79
Th'Humble, doth Others prize; Him-selfe depress:Saue against Pride he never bends his Browes:
The more his Vertue mounts-him, counts-him less:
God th'humble Sinner, not proud Iust, allowes.
80
O! Hypocrite, which hast but Vertue's Vaile,Seem what thou art, and what thou seemest be:
To hide thy Filth, all thy Fig-leaves will faile:
Thou canst not hide thee from thy God, nor Thee.
81
Mock-Saints, whose Soule-weal on your Works you lay,With eyes and hands to Heaven, while heart's else-where:
For shame you durst not to the least man say,
What you (profane) dare whisper in Gods eare.
82
Gold's fin'd in fire: Soules in Affliction, better:Moths gnaw the Garment locked in the Chest:
Still water stinks, vnwholesom, black, and bitter:
Swords rust in Sheathes, and so doe Soules in Rest.
83
Opening thy Soule to God, close Mouth from Men:Nor let thy Thoughts roame from thy due Intent;
God sees the hearts, his iudgement soundeth them,
And Them confounds whose Words and Deeds dissent.
84
Gamesters may well All to to-Morrow post;To see, or to be seen, th'have never leasure:
With adverse Windes their Mindes are ever tost;
Loss bringing Grief, more than the Gain brings Pleasure.
85
To shun Affaires, behoves exceeding heed:Troubles vnsent-for, and vnlookt-for, haste;
Vn-set, vn-sowen, too-early growes the Weed:
We meet too-soon the Care we hoped past.
86
All Idleness, dis-natures Wit, dis-nerves-it;A mod'rate Travell makes it quick, addrest:
Sloath quels and kils it; Exercise preserves-it:
But, Hee's not Free hat hath no time to rest.
1055
87
Who seeketh Rest in troublous Managings,Thinks to find Calm amid Tempestuous Seas:
The World and Rest are Two, two adverse things:
Thick streams re-cleer when storms and stirrings cease.
88
Fortune in Court is fickle, apt to vary:Favours sort seldom to the Suiters minde:
They many times even in the Port mis-cary:
The hotter Sun, the blacker shade they finde.
89
Gifts, Honours, Office, Greatnes, Grace of Kings,Are but the Vshers of Adversity:
For their last mischief, have the Emmets wings:
And height of Health betokens Sicknes ny.
90
Youth hath more Lures, more Traps, more Trains to Ill,Then Fouler Gins, or Baits the Fisher-man:
Age would, but cannot what it would, fulfill:
Senex, thou leau'st not Sin: Sin leaues Thee, than.
91
Th'Eye tends to Bewty, as the Centre of-it:After the Eyes, Heart and Affections drawe:
'Tis hard to keep safe what so-many covet:
For, mens Desires Kings cannot keep in Awe.
92
All Good or Ill-hap, that heer happens thee,Coms from Opinion (which All-ruling seems).
Opinion makes vs Other then wee bee:
Hee's not vnhappy, who him happy deems.
93
From contrary Effects is formed Sadnes:Both Smoak and Smiles have made the Eyes to water.
Who sowe in Tears, shall one day reap in Gladnes:
Who sowe in Ioies, shall reap Annoyes heerafter.
94
Let's leave out I, and No, in Conversation:Words now transposed, and wax-nosed, Both,
By Romes New Doctrine of Equivocation,
Which gives a Ly the Credit of an Oath.
95
Friends, now-adaies, wake at the noise of Gain.As Bees to Flowrs, as Crowes to Carion haste,
As Flies to Flesh, as Birds and Ants to Grain:
So Friends to Profit thickly flock and fast.
96
Who reaves thine Honour, scoffs, if hee presumeT'have don thee favour, that thy life hee left:
Why should the Bird live, having lost her Plume?
The rest is nothing when the Honour's reft.
1056
97
Little sufficeth Life, in th'vn-delicious;The Sun for need may somtimes dress our Victuall:
I blame, alike, the Cynik and Apicius;
This, for his too-too-much; That's, too-too-little.
98
Too-oft is made too-ill InterpretationOf Words and Deeds best meant and built on Reason:
All's evill to the Evill, by Self-flation:
Whenee Bees their Hony, Spiders suck their Poyson.
99
Happy the People where Iust-Gentle Prince-is:Whose Sword is Iustice, and whose Shield is Love.
For These, Augustus Deified long-since-is:
And without These, Kings Scepters maimed prove.
100
Good-hap, Good-heart, Favour, and Labour met,Bring Men to Riches and to Honors heer;
But that's the Way about: To be born Great,
Is great Advantage; Not to buy so deer.
FINIS.
| Du Bartas | |