Prison-Pietie or, Meditations Divine and Moral. Digested into Poetical Heads, On Mixt and Various Subjects. Whereunto is added A Panegyrick to The Right Reverend, and most Nobly descended, Henry, Lord Bishop of London. By Samuel Speed, Prisoner in Ludgate, London |
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On an Hour-Glass. |
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56
On an Hour-Glass.
As I in haste did through a Chamber pass,I had almost destroy'd a Christal Glass.
With fear affrighted, I too soon believ'd
That I had broke it; thereupon I griev'd.
But how much time more pretious than that sand
Have I neglected? and with ready hand
Pursu'd my folly, being round beset
With sins, yet I not thinking of regret.
Though that but Christal, I my self condemn,
But minde not Time, though every hour's a gem.
The thought of breaking that did me affright;
The other's minded not, though lost outright.
That were but casual, if it had been done;
But with consent my pretious Time hath flown.
A better Hour-glass may be had for cost,
But Time ill-spent is once and ever lost:
For toys our griefs can finde a certain leisure,
But have no vent for an unvalued treasure.
Lord, let that Hour-glass for its service win me,
(Not that stands by me, but) shall be within me.
Teach me to number so my days, that I,
Right soon, my heart to wisdome may apply.
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