Emblemes (1635) and Hieroglyphikes (1638) :: :: University of Virginia Library

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 things 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 Urne:
For this deare wast what satisfaction can
Injurious time returne
Thy shortned daies, but this; the Stile of Man?
And 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
A wanton Juilippe out, which may restraine
The Rage of his desire,
Whose painfull pleasure is but pleasing paine.
His life's a sicknes, that does rise
From a hot Liver, whilst his passion lies
Expecting 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 Flouts;
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 avantage 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 childishnesse remaines, and what is worse, thou hast the Authority of a Man, but the vices of a Childe.

EPIGRAM 11.

[Why standest thou discontented? Is not he]

Why standest 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!