A Collection of Emblemes Ancient and Moderne: Quickened VVith Metricall Illvstrations, both Morall and Divine: And disposed into Lotteries, That Instruction, and Good Counsell, may bee furthered by an Honest and Pleasant Recreation. By George Wither |
 |
 | A Collection of Emblemes |  |
44
Illvstr. XLIV.
[When, in the sweet and pleasant Month of May]
Those Fields, which yet appeare not so,
When Harvest comes, will yellow grow.
When Harvest comes, will yellow grow.
When, in the sweet and pleasant Month of May,
We see both Leaves and Blossomes on the Tree,
And view the Meadowes in their best array,
We hopefull are a Ioyfull Spring to see;
Yet, oft, before the following Night be past,
It chanceth, that a Vapor, or a Frost,
Doth all those forward bloomings wholly waste;
And, then, their Sweetnesse and their Beautie's lost.
We see both Leaves and Blossomes on the Tree,
And view the Meadowes in their best array,
We hopefull are a Ioyfull Spring to see;
Yet, oft, before the following Night be past,
It chanceth, that a Vapor, or a Frost,
Doth all those forward bloomings wholly waste;
And, then, their Sweetnesse and their Beautie's lost.
Such, is the state of ev'ry mortall Wight:
In Youth, our Glories, and our Lusts we shew;
We fill our selves with ev'ry vaine Delight,
And, will most thinke on that which may insue.
But, let us learne to heed, as well as know,
That, Spring doth passe; that, Summer steales away;
And, that the Flow'r which makes the fairest show,
E're many Weekes, must wither and decay.
In Youth, our Glories, and our Lusts we shew;
We fill our selves with ev'ry vaine Delight,
And, will most thinke on that which may insue.
But, let us learne to heed, as well as know,
That, Spring doth passe; that, Summer steales away;
And, that the Flow'r which makes the fairest show,
E're many Weekes, must wither and decay.
And, from this Emblem, let each Lab'ring-Swaine
(In whatsoever course of life it be)
Take heart, and hope, amidst his daily paine,
That, of his Travailes, he good fruits shall see.
The Plow'd and Harrow'd Field, which, to thine eye,
Seemes like to be the Grave, in which the Seeds
Shall (without hope of rising) buryed lye,
Becomes the fruitfull Wombe, where Plenty breeds.
There, will be Corne, where nought but Mire appeares;
The Durty Seed, will forme a greenish blade;
The Blade, will rise to Stemmes with fruitfull Eares;
Those Eares, will ripen, and be yellow made:
So, if in honest Hopes, thou persevere,
A Ioyfull Harvest will at last appeare.
(In whatsoever course of life it be)
Take heart, and hope, amidst his daily paine,
That, of his Travailes, he good fruits shall see.
The Plow'd and Harrow'd Field, which, to thine eye,
Seemes like to be the Grave, in which the Seeds
Shall (without hope of rising) buryed lye,
Becomes the fruitfull Wombe, where Plenty breeds.
There, will be Corne, where nought but Mire appeares;
The Durty Seed, will forme a greenish blade;
The Blade, will rise to Stemmes with fruitfull Eares;
Those Eares, will ripen, and be yellow made:
So, if in honest Hopes, thou persevere,
A Ioyfull Harvest will at last appeare.
| A Collection of Emblemes | |