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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

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The Second Booke.
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The Second Booke.


TO THE HIGH AND MIGHTY Prince, CHARLES, Prince of Wales, &c

Fair'st Blossome of our hopes; and Morning-starre
To all these Ilands, which inclosed are
By Neptunes armes, within our Northern climes;
And who (wee trust) shall rise, in future times,
To be the brightest Light, that, then will shine,
Betwixt the Artick-Circle, and the Line.
To Yov (as now you are) that I present
These Emblems, 'tis not so impertinent
As those may thinke it, who have neither seene
What, of your Cradle-sports, hath heeded beene;
Nor heard how many serious Questionings,
Your Child-hood frameth, out of trifling things:
And, if mine aime I have not much mistooke,
I come not oversoone with such a Booke.
So long as in this Infant-Age you are,
(Wherein, the speechlesse Portraitures appeare
A pleasurefull delight) your Highnesse may
Among our Emblems, finde a Harmelesse-play:
And, those mute Objects will from time to time,
Still Riper, seeme, till you to ripenesse clime.
When their dumb Figures, no more sport can make,
Their Illustrations, will begin to speake;
And, ev'ry day, new matter still disclose,
Vntill your Iudgement to perfection growes.
They likewise, who their Services, to do
Frequent your Presence, may have pleasure too,
From this your Play-game: yea, and some perchance,
May cure a Folly, or an Ignorance
By that, which they shall either heare or view
In these our Emblems, when they wait on You;
Or, shall be called, by your Excellence,
To try what Lot, they shall obtaine from thence.
It may, moreover, much increase the sport,
Which is allowed in a vertuous Covrt;
When they whose faults have long suspected bin,
Shall draw forth private Censures of their Sin,


And, heare their Emblems, openly, display,
What, others dare not, but in private, say:
Nor will, to Yov, the Morals be in vaine,
Ev'n when to manly Knowledge you attaine;
For, though to Teach, it will not them become
To be Remembrancers, they may presume:
And, that which in their Child-hood, men shall heed,
Will soonest come to minde, in time of need.
Incourag'd by these Hopes, I thought it meet
To lay this humble Present at your feet.
Accept it, now; and, please to favour me,
When I growe old, and, You a Man shall be.
To your Highnesse most humbly devoted, Geo: Wither.


TO THE MOST HIGH-BORNE and hopefull Prince JAMES, Duke of Yorke, &c.

Sweet Prince,

Your hand I kisse; and, thus my Lines addresse
Vnto your wise, and vertuous

The Countesse of Dorset.


For, Madame, (at his Proxy) it is fit,
That, Yov both Read, and answere for him, yet.
To Yov for Him, J therefore tender, here,
To welcome-in the New-beginning Yeare,
This harmelesse Play-Game; that, it may have place,
When somewhat riper Daies, shall Make his GRACE,
Affect such Objects; which, to looke upon
May pleasure yeeld him, e're this Yeare be gone.
'Tis not the least Discretion, in great Covrts,
To know what Recreations, and what Sports
Become young Princes; or, to find out those,
Which may, with harmelesse pleasantnesse, dispose
Their Mindes to VERTVE: neither in their Cradles,
Should this be heeded lesse, than in their Sadles:
Because, when first to know, we doe begin,
A small Occasion, lets much Evill in.
Among those things, which both Instruct and please;
But few, (for Children) are surpassing these:
For, they, to looke on Pictures, much desire:
And, not to Looke alone, but, to enquire
What things those are, that represented be,
In ev'ry Map, or Emblem, which they see.
And, that which they shall view, or shall be told,
(By meanes of any Figure they behold)
Experience breedes; assisteth Memory:
Or, helps to forme a Witty Fantasie:
And, if those Formes to good Instruction tend,
Oft steads them, also, till their lives have end.
Then, since ev'n all of us, much God receive
By Vertuous Princes; And should, therefore, strive
To adde some helpes, whereby they might acquire
That Excellence, which wee in them desire.


I (being able, to present his GRACE,
With nothing but a Rattle, or a Glasse,
Or some such Cradle-play-game) bring, to day,
This BOOKE, to be as usefull as it may:
And, how, and when, it will most usefull grow,
Without my Teaching, YOV can fully show.
For, what is of your Ablenesse believ'd,
Through all these famous Ilands, hath receiv'd,
A large applause; in that, from out of those
Which ablest were, both King and State have those
Your Faith and Wisedome, to be TREASVRESSE
Of their chiefe Iewels; and the GOVERNESSE
Of our prime Hopes. And, now Jibi have weigh'd,
Me thinks, there needs no more, by me, be said,
But, (having pray'd your HONORE to receive
This PRESENT for the DVKE) to take my leave;
And Versifie to him, some other day,
When Hee can understand mee, what I say.
Till then, let it please your Honour sometimes to remember Him, that I am his Graces daily and humble Oratour, Geo: Wither.


Illvstr. I.

[When I observe the Melanchollie Owles]

We best shall quiet clamorous Thronges,
When, we our selves, can rule our Tongues.

When I observe the Melanchollie Owles,
Considering with what patience, they sustaine
The many clamours, of the greater Fowles;
And, how the little Chirpers, they disdaine:
When I remember, how, their Injuries
They sleight, (who, causeles give them an offence)
Vouchsafing, scarce to cast aside their eyes
To looke upon that foolish Insolence.
Me thinkes, by their Example, I am taught
To sleight the slaunders of Injurious Tongues;
To set the scoffes of Censurers, at naught,
And, with a brave neglect, to beare out Wrongs.
Hee, doubtles, whom the Psalmist, long agoe,
Vnto a lonely Desert-Owle compar'd,
Did practise thus; And, when I can doe so,
I, shall for all affronts, become prepar'd.
And, (though, this Doctrine, Flesh and blood gaine-say)
Yet, sure, to stopp the malice of Despight,
There is no better, (nay, no other) way:
Since, Rage by Opposition gathers Might.
Good God! vouchsafe, sufficient grace and strength,
That (though I have not yet, such Patience gott)
I may attaine this happy gift, at length;
And, finde the cause, that, yet, I have it not.
Though me, my Neighbours, and my Foes revile;
Make me of all their words, a Patient-bearer:
When er'e I suffer, let me be, the while,
As is the silent Lambe before the Shearer.
So; though my speakings, cannot quiet any,
My Patience may restraine the Tongues of many.


Illvstr. II.

[The Crowe, when deepe within a close-mouth'd-Pot.]

When wee by Hunger, VVisdome gaine,
Our Guts, are wiser then our Braine.

The Crowe, when deepe within a close-mouth'd-Pot.
She water finds, her thirstinesse to slake;
(And, knoweth not where else it might be got)
Her Belly, teacheth her, this course to take:
She flies, and fetcheth many Pibbles thither,
Then, downe into the Vessell, lets them drop;
Vntill, so many stones are brought together,
As may advance the water to the top.
From whence, we might this observation heed;
That, Hunger, Thirst, and those necessities,
(Which from the Bellies craving, doe proceed)
May make a Foole; grow provident and wise.
And, though (in sport) we say, the braines of some,
Not in their Heads, but in their Gutts, doe lye;
Yet, that, by wants, Men wiser should become,
Dissenteth not from true Philosophy:
For, no man labours with much Willingnesse,
To compasse, what he nought at all desires;
Nor seeketh so, his longing to possesse,
As, when some urgent neede, the same requires.
Nay, though he might, a willingnesse, retaine,
Yet, as the Belly, which is everfull,
Breeds fumes, that cause a sottish-witles-braine;
So, plenteous Fortunes, make the Spirits dull.
All, borne to Riches, have not all-times, witt
To keepe, (much lesse, to better) their degree:
But, men to nothing borne, oft, passage get,
(Through many wants) renown'd, and rich to bee:
Yea, Povertie and Hunger, did produce,
The best Inventions, and, of chiefest use.


Illvstr. III.

[To Musicke, and the Muses, many beare]

Though Musicke be of some abhor'd,
She, is the Handmaid of the Lord.

To Musicke, and the Muses, many beare
Much hatred; and, to whatsoever ends
Their Soule-delighting-Raptures tuned are,
Such peevish dispositions, it offends.
Some others, in a Morall way, affect
Their pleasing Straines (or, for a sensuall use)
But, in Gods Worship, they the same suspect;
(Or, taxe it rather) as a great abuse.
The First of these, are full of Melancholy;
And, Pitty need, or Comfort, more then blame;
And, soone, may fall into some dangerous folly,
Vnlesse they labour, to prevent the same.
The Last, are giddie-things, that have befool'd
Their Iudgements, with beguiling-Fantasies,
Which (if they be not, by discretion, school'd)
Will plunge them into greater Vanities.
For, Musicke, is the Handmaid of the Lord,
And, for his Worship, was at first ordayned:
Yea, therewithall she fitly doth accord;
And, where Devotion thriveth, is reteyned.
Shee, by a nat'rall power, doth helpe to raise,
The mind to God, when joyfull Notes are sounded:
And, Passions fierce Distemperatures, alaies;
When, by grave Tones, the Mellody is bounded.
It, also may in Mysticke-sense, imply
What Musicke, in our-selves, ought still to be;
And, that our jarring-lives to certifie,
Wee should in Voice, in Hand, and Heart, agree:
And, sing out, Faiths new-songs, with full concent,
Vnto the Lawes, ten-stringed Instrument.


Illvstr. IIII.

[A Sword unsheathed, and a strangling-Snare]

Marke, what Rewards, to Sinne, are due,
And, learne, uprightnesse to pursue.

A Sword unsheathed, and a strangling-Snare,
Is figur'd here; which, in dumbe-shewes, doe preach,
Of what the Malefactor should beware;
And, they doe threaten too, aswell as Teach.
For, some there are, (would God, that summe were lesse)
Whom, neither good Advise, nor, wholesome Lawe,
Can turne from Pathwaies of Vnrighteousnesse,
If Death, or Tortures, keepe them not in awe.
These, are not they, whose Conscience for the sake
Of Goodnesse onely, Godlinesse, pursues;
But, these are they, who never scruple make
What Guilt, but, what great punishment ensues.
For such as these, this Emblem was prepar'd:
And, for their sakes, in places eminent,
Are all our Gallow-trees, and Gibbets, rear'd;
That, by the sight of them, they might repent.
Let, therefore, those who feele their hearts inclin'd
To any kind of Death-deserving-Crime,
(When they behold this Emblem) change their mind,
Lest, they (too late) repent, another time.
And, let not those our Counsell, now, contemne,
Who, doome poore Theeves to death; yet, guilty be
Of more, then most of those whom they Condemne:
But, let them Learne their perill to foresee,
For, though a little while, they may have hope
To seeme upright, (when they are nothing lesse)
And, scape the Sword, the Gallowes, and the Rope,
There is a Iudge, who sees their wickednesse;
And, when grim Death, shall summon them, from hence,
They will be fully plagu'd for their offence.


Illvstr. V.

[A Crowned Scepter, here is fixt upright]

That Kingdome will establish'd bee,
Wherein the People well agree.

A Crowned Scepter, here is fixt upright,
Betwixt foure Fowles, whose postures may declare,
They came from Coasts, or Climats opposite,
And, that, they diffring in their natures are.
In which, (as in some others, that we finde
Amongst these Emblems) little care I take
Precisely to unfold our Authors minde;
Or, on his meaning, Comments here to make.
It is the scope of my Intention, rather
From such perplext Inventions (which have nought,
Of Ancient Hieroglyphicky sense, to gather,
Whereby, some usefull Morall may be taught.
And, from these Figures, my Collections be,
That, Kingdomes, and the Royall-dignitie,
Are best upheld, where Subjects doe agree,
To keepe upright the state of Soveraignty.
When, from each Coast and quarter of the Land,
The Rich, the Poore, the Swaine, the Gentleman,
Leads, in all wants, and at all times, his hand,
To give the best assistance that he can:
Yea, when with Willing-hearts, and Winged-speed,
The men of all Degrees, doe duely carry
Their Aides to publike-workes, in time of need,
And, to their Kings, be freely tributary:
Then shall the Kingdome gayne the gloriest height;
Then shall the Kingly-Title be renown'd;
Then shall the Royall-Scepter stand upright,
And, with supremest Honour, then, be Crown'd.
But, where this Duty long neglect, they shall;
The King will suffer, and, the Kingdome fall.


Illvstr. VI.

[The little Sparkes which rak'd in Embers lie]

From that, by which I somewhat am,
The Cause of my Destruction came.

The little Sparkes which rak'd in Embers lie,
Are kindly kindled by a gentle blast:
And, brands in which the fire begins to die
Revive by blowing; and, flame out at last.
The selfe same wind, becomming over strong,
Quite bloweth out againe that very flame;
Or, else, consumes away (ere it be long)
That wasting substance, which maintain'd the same.
Thus fares it, in a Thousand other things,
As soone as they the golden Meane exceed;
And, that, which keeping Measure, profit brings,
May, (by excesse) our losse, and ruine, breed.
Preferments (well and moderately sought)
Have helpt those men, new Virtues to acquire,
Who, being to superiour places brought,
Left all their goodnesse, as they climed higher.
A little wealth, may make us better able
To labour in our Callings: Yet, I see
That they, who being poore, were charitable,
Becomming rich, hard-hearted grow to be.
Love, when they entertaine it with discretion,
More worthy, and more happy, maketh men;
But, when their Love is overgrowne with Passion,
It overthrowes their happinesse, agen.
Yea, this our Flesh, (in which we doe appeare
To have that being, which we now enjoy)
If we should overmuch the same endeare,
Would our Well-being, totally destroy.
For, that which gives our Pleasures nourishment,
Is oft the poyson of our best Content.


Illvstr. VII.

[Ixions wheele, and he himselfe thereon]

By Guiltines, Death entred in,
And, Mischiefe still pursueth Sinne.

Ixions wheele, and he himselfe thereon
Is figur'd, and (by way of Emblem) here,
Set forth, for Guilty men to looke upon;
That, they, their wicked Courses might forbeare.
To gaine a lawlesse favour he desired,
And, in his wicked hopes beguiled was:
For, when to claspe with Iuno, he aspired,
In stead of her, a Clowd, he did embrace.
He, likewise, did incurre a dreadfull Doome,
(Which well befitted his presumptuous Crime)
A terror, and, a warning, to become,
For wicked men, through all succeeding time.
As did his longings, and his after Paine,
So, theirs affecteth, nor effecteth ought,
But, that, which proveth either false or vaine;
And, their false Pleasures, are as dearely, bought:
Yea, that, whereon they build their truest Hope,
May, bring them (in conclusion of the deed),
To clime the Gallowes, and to stretch a Rope;
Or, send them thither, where farre worse they speed:
Ev'n thither, where, the never-standing-Wheele
Of everlasting-Tortures, turneth round,
And, racks the Conscience, till the soule doth feele
All Paines, that are in Sense, and Reason found.
For, neither doth black Night, more swiftly follow,
Declining Day-light: Nor, with Nimbler Motion
Can waves, each other, downe their Channell follow,
From high-rais'd Mountaines, to the bigg-womb'd Ocean,
Then, Iustice will, when she doth once begin,
To prosecute, an Vnrepented-Sin.


Illvstr. VIII.

[When, all the yeare, our fields are fresh and greene]

When wee have greatest Griefes and Feares,
Then, Consolation sweet'st appeares.

When, all the yeare, our fields are fresh and greene,
And, while sweet Flowers, and Sunshine, every day,
(As oft, as need requireth) come betweene
The Heav'ns and earth; they heedles passe away.
The fulnes, and continuance, of a blessing,
Doth make us to be senseles of the good:
And, if it sometime flie not our possessing,
The sweetnesse of it, is not understood.
Had wee no Winter, Sommer would be thought
Not halfe so pleasing: And, if Tempests were not,
Such Comforts could not by a Calme, be brought:
For, things, save by their Opposites appeare not.
Both health, and wealth, is tastles unto some;
And, so is ease, and every other pleasure,
Till poore, or sicke, or grieved, they become:
And, then, they relish these, in ampler measure.
God, therefore (full as kinde, as he is wise)
So tempreth all the Favours he will doe us,
That, wee, his Bounties, may the better prize;
And, make his Chastisements lesse bitter to us.
One while, a scorching Indignation burnes
The Flowers and Blosomes of our Hopes, away;
Which into Scarsitie, our Plentie turnes,
And, changeth vnmowne-Grasse to parched Hay;
Anon, his fruitfull showres, and pleasing dewes,
Commixt with cheerefull Rayes, he sendeth downe;
And then the Barren-earth her cropp renewes,
Which with rich Harvests, Hills, and Vallies Crowne:
For, as to relish Ioyes, he sorrow sends,
So, Comfort on Temptation, still, attends.


Illvstr. IX.

[Some, are so quarrellous, that they will draw]

To brawle for Gaine, the Cocke doth sleight;
But, for his Females, he will fight.

Some, are so quarrellous, that they will draw,
And Brawle, and Fight, for every toy they see;
Grow furious, for the wagging of a straw;
And, (otherwise) for lesse then that may be.
Some, are more staid, a little, and will beare,
Apparent wrongs (which to their face you doe;)
But, when they Lye, they cannot brooke to heare
That any should be bold to tell them so.
Another sort, I know, that blowes will take,
Put up the Lye, and give men leave to say
What words they please; till spoile they seeke to make
Of their estates; And, then, they'le kill and slay.
But, of all Hacksters, farre the fiercest are
Our Cockrills of the game, (Sir Cupid's knights)
Who, (on their foolish Coxcombes) often weare
The Scarres they get in their Venerean-fights.
Take heede of these; for, you may pacifie
The first, by time: The second, will be pleas'd
If you submit, or else your words denie;
The third, by satisfaction, are appeas'd:
But, he that for his Female, takes offence,
Through Iealousy, or madnesse, rageth so;
That, he accepteth of no recompence,
Till he hath wrought his Rivals overthrow.
Such Fury, shun; and, shunne their Vulgar minde,
Who for base trash despitefully contend;
But, (when a just occasion, thou shalt finde)
Thy Vertuous Mistresse, lawfully defend.
For, he, that in such cases turnes his face,
Is held a Capon, of a Dunghill Race.


Illvstr. X.

[Ovr Elders, when their meaning was to shew]

If Safely, thou desire to goe,
Bee nor too swift, nor overslow.

Ovr Elders, when their meaning was to shew
A native-speedinesse (in Emblem wise)
The picture of a Dolphin-Fish they drew;
Which, through the waters, with great swiftnesse, flies
An Anchor, they did figure, to declare
Hope, stayednesse, or a grave-deliberation:
And therefore when those two, united are,
It giveth us a two-fold Intimation.
For, as the Dolphin putteth us in minde,
That in the Courses, which we have to make,
Wee should not be, to slothfulnesse enclin'd;
But, swift to follow what we undertake:
So, by an Anchor added thereunto,
Inform'd wee are, that, to maintaine our speed,
Hope, must bee joyn'd therewith (in all we doe)
If wee will undiscouraged proceed.
It sheweth (also) that, our speedinesse,
Must have some staydnesse; lest, when wee suppose
To prosecute our aymes with good successe,
Wee may, by Rashnesse, good endeavors lose.
They worke, with most securitie, that know
The Times, and best Occasions of delay;
When, likewise, to be neither swift, nor slow;
And, when to practise all the speed, they may.
For, whether calme, or stormie-passages,
(Through this life's Ocean) shall their Bark attend;
This double Vertue, will procure their ease:
And, them, in all necessities, befriend.
By Speedinesse, our works are timely wrought;
By Staydnesse, they, to passe are, safely, brought.


Illvstr. XI.

[If thou desire to cherish true Content]

They that in Hope, and Silence, live,
The best Contentment, may atchive.

If thou desire to cherish true Content,
And in a troublous time that course to take,
Which may be likely mischieves to prevent,
Some use, of this our Hieroglyphick, make.
The Fryers Habit, seemeth to import,
That, thou (as ancient Monkes and Fryers did)
Shouldst live remote, from places of resort,
And, in retyrednesse, lye closely hid.
The clasped-Booke, doth warne thee, to retaine
Thy thoughts within the compasse of thy breast;
And, in a quiet silence to remaine,
Vntill, thy minde may safely be exprest.
That Anchor, doth informe thee, that thou must
Walke on in Hope; and, in thy Pilgrimage,
Beare up (without despairing or distrust)
Those wrongs, and sufferings, which attend thine Age.
For, whensoere Oppression groweth rife,
Obscurenesse, is more safe than Eminence;
Hee, that then keepes his Tongue, may keepe his Life,
Till Times will better favour Innocence.
Truth spoken where untruth is more approved,
Will but enrage the malice of thy foes;
And, otherwhile, a wicked man is moved
To cease from wrong, if no man him oppose.
Let this our Emblem, therefore, counsell thee,
Thy life in safe Retyrednesse, to spend:
Let, in thy breast, thy thoughts reserved bee,
Till thou art layd, where none can thee offend.
And, whilst most others, give their Fancie scope,
Enjoy thy selfe, in Silence, and in Hope.


Illvstr. XII.

[Bee merry man, and let no causelesse feare]

Let none despaire of their Estate,
For, Prudence, greater is, than Fate.

Bee merry man, and let no causelesse feare
Of Constellation, fatall Destinie,
Or of those false Decrees, that publish'd are
By foolish braines, thy Conscience terrifie.
To thee, these Figures better Doctrines teach,
Than those blind Stoikes, who necessitate
Contingent things; and, arrogantly teach
(For doubtlesse truths) their dreames of changelesse Fate.
Though true it bee, that those things which pertaine,
As Ground-workes, to Gods glorie, and our blisse,
Are fixt, for aye, unchanged to remaine;
All, is not such, that thereon builded is.
God, gives men power, to build on his Foundation;
And, if their workes bee thereunto agreeing,
No Power-created, brings that Variation,
Which can disturbe, the Workmans happy being.
Nor, of those workings, which required are,
Is any made unpossible, untill
Mans heart begins that Counsell to preferre,
Which is derived from a crooked-will.
The Starres, and many other things, incline
Our nat'rall Constitutions, divers wayes;
But, in the Soule, God plac'd a Power-divine,
Which, all those Inclinations, overswayes.
Yea, God, that Prudence, hath infus'd, by Grace,
Which, till Selfe-will, and Lust, betrayes a man,
Will keepe him firmely, in that happy place,
From whence, no Constellation move him can.
And, this is that, whereof I notice take,
From this great Starre, enclosed by a Snake.


Illvstr. XIII.

[When first I knew the world, (and was untaught]

Their Friendship firme will ever bide,
Whose hands unto the Crosse are tide.

When first I knew the world, (and was untaught
By tryde experience, what true Friendship meant)
That I had many faithfull friends, I thought;
And, of their Love, was wondrous confident.
For, few so young in yeares, and meane in fortune,
Of their Familiars, had such troopes, as I,
Who did their daily fellowship importune;
Or, seeme so pleased in their company.
In all their friendly meetings, I was one;
And, of the Quorum, in their honest game:
By day or night, I seldome sate alone;
And, welcome seemed, wheresoere I came.
But, where are now those multitudes of Friends?
Alas! they on a sudden flasht away.
Their love begun, but, for some sensuall ends,
Which fayling them, it would no longer stay.
If I to vaine expences, would have mov'd them,
They, nor their paines, nor purses, would have spared;
But, in a reall need, if I had prov'd them,
Small showes of kindnesse, had bin then declared.
Of thrice three thousands, two, perhaps, or three,
Are left me now, which (yet) as Friends I prize;
But, none of them, of that great number be,
With whom I had my youthfull Iollities.
If, therefore, thou desire a Friend, on Earth,
Let one pure-faith betwixt you bee begot,
And, seeke him not, in vanities, or mirth,
But, let Afflictions tye your true-love-knot:
For, they who to the Crosse, are firmely tyde,
Will fast, and everlasting Friends, abide.


Illvstr. XIIII.

[There be of those in every Common-weale]

A Candle that affords no light,
What profits it, by Day, or Night?

There be of those in every Common-weale,
Whom to this Emblem we resemble may;
The Name of none I purpose to reveale,
But, their Condition, heere, I will display.
Some, both by gifts of Nature, and of Grace,
Are so prepared, that, they might be fit
To stand as Lights, in profitable place;
Yet, loose their Talent, by neglecting it.
Some, to the common Grace, and nat'rall parts,
(By helpe of Nurture, and good Discipline)
Have added an accomplishment of Arts,
By which, their Light may much the brighter shine.
Some others, have to this, acquired more:
For, to maintaine their Lampe, in giving light,
Of Waxe, and Oyle, and Fatnesse, they have store,
Which over-flowes unto them, day and night.
And, ev'n as Lampes, or Candles, on a Table,
(Or, fixt on golden Candlesticks, on high)
To light Assemblies, Great and Honourable,
They, oft, have (also) place of Dignitie.
By meanes of which, their Splendor might become
His praise, who those high favours did bequeath:
They might encrease the Light of Christendome,
And, make them see, who sit in shades of Death.
But, many of them, like those Candles bee,
That stand unlighted in a Branch of gold:
For, by their helpe wee nothing more can see,
Than wee in grossest darknesse, may behold.
If such there be, (as there bee such, I feare.)
The question is, For what good use they are.


Illvstr. XV.

[No Age, hath had a people, to professe]

The Sacrifice, God loveth best,
Are Broken-hearts, for Sin, opprest.

No Age, hath had a people, to professe
Religion, with a shew of holinesse,
Beyond these times; nor, did men sacrifice,
According to their foolish fantasies,
More oft than at this present. One, bestowes
On pious-workes, the hundreth part, of those
Ill-gotten goods, which from the poore he seazed,
And, thinkes his God, in that, is highly pleased.
Another, of her dues, the Church bereaves:
And, yet, himselfe a holy man conceives,
(Yea, and right bountifull) if hee can spare
From those his thefts, the tenth, or twentieth share,
To some new Lecture; or, a Chaplaine keepe,
To please Himselfe, or, preach his Wife asleepe.
Some others, thinke they bring sincere Oblations,
When, fir'd with zeale, they roare out Imprecations
Against all those, whom wicked they repute:
And, when to God, they tender any sute,
They dreame to merit what they would obtaine,
By praying-long, with Repetitions vaine.
With many other such like Sacrifices
Men come to God: but, he such gifts despises:
For, neither gifts, nor workes, nor any thing
(Which we can either doe, or say, or bring,)
Accepted is of God; untill he finde
A Spirit-humbled, and a troubled-minde.
A contrite Heart, is that, and, that alone,
Which God with love, and pitie, lookes upon.
Such he affects; therefore (Oh Lord) to thee;
Such, let my Heart, and, such, my Spirit bee.


Illvstr. XVI.

[The Royall-Scepter, Kingly power, implyes]

A King, that prudently Commands,
Becomes the glory of his Lands.

The Royall-Scepter, Kingly power, implyes;
The Crowne-Imperiall, Glorie, signifies:
And, by these joyn'd in one, we understand,
A King, that is an honour to his Land.
A Kingdome, is not alwaies eminent,
By having Confines of a large extent;
For, Povertie, and Barbarousnesse, are found
Ev'n in some large Dominions, to abound:
Nor, is it Wealth, which gets a glorious-Name;
For, then, those Lands would spread the widest Fame,
From whence we fetch the Gold and Silver-ore;
And, where we gather Pearles upon the shore:
Nor, have those Countries highest exaltations,
Which breed the strongest, and the Warlikst Nations;
For, proud of their owne powre, they sometimes grow,
And quarrell, till themselves they overthrow.
Nor, doe the chiefest glories, of a Land,
In many Cities, or much People, stand:
For, then, those Kingdomes, most renowned were,
In which Vnchristian Kings, and, Tyrants are.
It is the King by whom a Realme's renowne,
Is either builded up, or overthrowne.
By Solomon, more fam'd was Iudah made,
Then, by the Multitude of men it had:
Great Alexander, glorified Greece,
Throughout the World, which, else had bene a piece
Perhaps obscure; And, Cæsar added more
To Rome, then all her greatnesse did before.
Grant, Lord, these Iles, for ever may be blessed,
With what, in this our Emblem is expressed.


Illvstr. XVII.

[I thinke you would be wise; for, most men seeme]

By Studie, and by Watchfulnesse,
The Jemme of Knowledge, we possesse.

I thinke you would be wise; for, most men seeme
To make of Knowledge very great esteeme.
If such be your desires, this Emblem view;
And, marke how well the Figures, counsell you.
Wee by the Bird of Athens, doe expresse,
That painefull, and that usefull watchfulnesse,
Which ought to bee enjoyned, unto them,
Who seeke a place, in Wisdomes Academ.
For, as an Owle mewes up her selfe by Day,
And watcheth in the Night, to get her prey;
Ev'n so, good Students, neither must be such,
As daily gad; or nightly sleepe too much.
That open-booke, on which the Owle is perch'd,
Affords a Morall, worthy to be search'd:
For, it informes, and, darkly doth advise,
Your Watchings be not after Vanities;
(Or, like their Wakings, who turne dayes to nights,
In following their unlawfull appetites)
And, that, in keeping Home, you doe not spend
Your houres in sloth, or, to some fruitlesse end.
But, rather in good Studies; and, in that,
By which, true Knowledge, is arrived at.
For, if your Studies, and your Wakings, bee
To this intent; you shall that Path-way see
To Wisdome, and to Honour, which was found,
Of them, whose Knowledge hath been most renownd.
But, if your Watchings, and Retyrednesse,
Be for your Lust, or, out of Sottishnesse;
You are not, what th'Athenian-Owle implies,
But, what our English-Owlet signifies.


Illvstr. XVIII.

[It prospers ever best, in all Estates]

When Mars, and Pallas, doe agree,
Great workes, by them, effected bee.

It prospers ever best, in all Estates,
When Mars and Pallas are continuall Mates.
And, those affaires but seldome luckie be,
In which, these needfull Powers, doe not agree.
That Common-wealth, in which, good Arts are found
Without a Guard, will soone receive a wound:
And, Souldiers, where good-order beares no sway,
Will, very quickly, rout themselves away.
Moreover, in our private Actions too,
There must bee both a Knowledge, how to doe
The worke propos'd; and strength to finish it;
Or, wee shall profit little by our Wit.
Discretion takes effect, where Vigour failes;
Where Cunning speeds not, outward-force prevailes;
And, otherwhile, the prize pertaines to neither,
Till they have joyn'd their Vertues both together.
Consider this; and, as occasions are,
To both of these your due respects declare.
Delight not so in Arts, to purchase harmes
By Negligence, or Ignorance of Armes:
If Martiall-Discipline thou shalt affect;
Yet, doe not honest-Policie, neglect.
Improve thy Minde, as much as e're thou may;
But foole thou not thy Bodies gifts away.
The Vertues both of Body, and of Mind,
Are, still, to be regarded in their kind.
And, wee should neither of the two disgrace;
Nor, either of them, raise above his place;
For, when these two wee value as wee ought,
Great works, by their joynt-power, to passe are brought.


Illvstr. XIX.

[Marke well this Emblem; and, observe you thence]

They, after suffring, shall be crown'd,
In whom, a Constant-faith, is found.

Marke well this Emblem; and, observe you thence
The nature of true Christian-confidence.
Her Foot is fixed on a squared-Stone,
Which, whether side soe're you turne it on,
Stands fast; and, is that Corner-stone, which props,
And firmely knits the structure of our Hopes.
Shee, alwayes, beares a Crosse; to signifie,
That, there was never any Constancie
Without her Tryalls: and, that, her perfection,
Shall never be attain'd, without Affliction.
A Cup shee hath, moreover, in her hand;
And, by that Figure, thou mayst understand,
That, shee hath draughts of Comfort, alwayes neere her,
(At ev'ry brunt) to strengthen, and to cheare her.
And, loe, her head is crown'd; that, we may see
How great, her Glories, and Rewards, will be.
Hereby, this Vertue's nature may be knowne:
Now, practise, how to make the same thine owne.
Discourag'd be not, though thou art pursu'd
With many wrongs, which cannot be eschew'd;
Nor yeeld thou to Despairing, though thou hast
A Crosse (which threatens death) to be embrac't;
Or, though thou be compell'd to swallow up,
The very dregs, of Sorrowes bitter Cup:
For, whensoever griefes, or torments, paine thee,
Thou hast the same Foundation to sustaine thee:
The selfe same Cup of Comfort, is prepared
To give thee strength, when fainting fits are feared:
And, when thy time of tryall, is expired,
Thou shalt obtaine the Crowne, thou hast desired.


Illvstr. XX.

[If to his thoughts my Comments have assented]

Love, a Musician is profest,
And, of all Musicke, is the best.

If to his thoughts my Comments have assented,
By whom the following Emblem was invented,
I'le hereby teach you (Ladies) to discover
A true-bred Cupid, from a fained Lover;
And, shew (if you have Wooers) which be they,
That worth'est are to beare your Hearts away.
As is the Boy, which, here, you pictured see,
Let them be young, or let them, rather, be
Of suiting-yeares (which is instead of youth)
And, wooe you in the nakednesse, of Truth;
Not in the common and disguised Clothes,
Of Mimick-gestures, Complements, and Oathes.
Let them be winged with a swift Desire;
And, not with slow-affections, that will tyre.
But, looke to this, as to the principall,
That, Love doe make them truly Musicall:
For, Love's a good Musician; and, will show
How, every faithfull Lover may be so.
Each word he speakes, will presently appeare
To be melodious Raptures in your eare:
Each gesture of his body, when he moves,
Will seeme to play, or sing, a Song of Loves:
The very lookes, and motions of his eyes,
Will touch your Heart-strings, with sweet Harmonies;
And, if the Name of him, be but exprest,
T'will cause a thousand quaverings in your breast.
Nay, ev'n those Discords, which occasion'd are,
Will make your Musicke, much the sweeter, farre.
And, such a mooving Diapason strike,
As none but Love, can ever play the like.


Illvstr. XXI.

[What may the reason be, so many wed]

Thy seeming-Lover, false will bee,
And, love thy Money, more than Thee.

What may the reason be, so many wed,
And misse the blessings of a joyfull-Bed,
But those ungodly, and improper ends,
For which, this Age most Marriages intends?
Some, love plumpe-flesh; and, those as kinde will be
To any gamesome Wanton, as to thee.
Some, doate on Honours; and, all such will prize
Thy Person, meerely, for thy Dignities.
Some, fancy Pleasures; and, such Flirts as they,
With ev'ry Hobby-horse, will runne away.
Some (like this Couple in our Emblem, here)
Wooe hard for Wealth; and, very kind appeare,
Till they have wonne their prize: but, then they show
On what their best Affections they bestow.
This Wealth, is that sweeet Beautie, which preferres
So many to their Executioners.
This, is that rare Perfection, for whose sake,
The Politician, doth his Marriage, make.
Yea, most of those whom you shall married find,
Were cousned, (or did cousen) in this kind;
And, for some by respects, they came together,
Much more, than for the sakes, of one another.
If this concernes thee, now, in any sense;
For thy instruction, take this warning hence:
If thou hast err'd already, then, lament
Thy passed crime, and, beare thy punishment.
If thou, as yet, but tempted art to erre:
Then, let this Emblem be thy Counseller:
For, I have said my mind, which, if thou slight,
Goe, and repent it, on thy wedding night.


Illvstr. XXII.

[I rather would (because it seemeth just)]

Give Credit; but, first, well beware,
Before thou trust them, who they are.

I rather would (because it seemeth just)
Deceived be, than causelesly distrust:
Yet, whom I credited; and, then, how farre;
Bee Cautions, which I thought worth heeding were:
And, had not this been taught me long agone,
I had been poorer, if not quite undone.
That, others to such warinesse, may come,
This Emblem, here, hath filled up a roome;
And, though a vulgar Figure, it may seeme,
The Morall, of it, meriteth esteeme.
That Seeing-Palme, (endowed with an Eye,
And handling of a Heart) may signifie
What warie Watchfulnesse, observe we must,
Before we venter on a weightie Trust:
And, that, to keepe our kindnesse from abuse,
There is of double-diligence, an use.
Mens hearts, are growne so false, that most are loath
To trust each others Words, or Bands, or Oath:
For, though wee had in every part an Eye,
We could not search out all Hypocrisie;
Nor, by our utmost providence, perceive
How many wayes, are open to deceive.
Now, then (although perhaps thou art so wise,
To know already, what I would advise)
Yet may this Emblem, or this Motto, bee
Instead of some Remembrancer, to thee.
So, take it therefore; And, be sure, if either
This Warning, or thy Wit, (or both together)
Can, still, secure thee from deceitfull-hearts;
Thy luck exceedeth all thy other parts.


Illvstr. XXIII.

[Lord! what a coyle is here! and what a puther]

Hee, that on Earthly-things, doth trust,
Dependeth, upon Smoake, and Dust.

Lord! what a coyle is here! and what a puther,
To save and get? to scratch and scrape together
The Rubbish of the world? and, to acquire
Those vanities, which Fancie doth desire?
What Violence is used, and what Cunning?
What nightly Watchings, and what daily Running?
What sorrowes felt? what difficulties entred?
What losses hazarded? what perills ventred?
And, still, how sottishly, doe wee persever
(By all the power, and meanes wee can endeaver)
To wheele our selves, in a perpetuall Round,
In quest of that, which never will be found?
In Objects, here on Earth, we seeke to finde
That perfect sollidnesse, which is confinde,
To things in Heaven, though every day we see,
What emptinesse, and faylings, in them be.
To teach us better; this, our Emblem, here,
Assayes to make terrestriall things appeare
The same they be, (both to our eares and eyes)
That, wee may rightly their Condition prize.
The best, which of earths best things, wee can say,
Is this; that they are Grasse, and will be Hay.
The rest, may be resembled to the Smoke,
(Which doth but either blind the sight, or choke)
Or else, to that uncleanly Mushrum-ball,
Which, in some Countries, wee a Puff-soyst call;
Whose out-side, is a nastie rotten skin,
Containing durt, or smoking-dust, within.
This is my mind; if wrong you thinke I've done them,
Be Fooles; and, at your perils, dote upon them.


Illvstr. XXIIII.

[This Emblem is a Torteise, whose owne shell]

I beare, about mee, all my store;
And, yet, a King enjoyes not more.

This Emblem is a Torteise, whose owne shell
Becomes that house, where he doth rent-free dwell;
And, in what place soever hee resides,
His Arched-Lodging, on his backe abides.
There is, moreover, found a kind of these,
That live both on the shore, and in the Seas;
For which respects, the Torteise represents
That man, who in himselfe, hath full contents;
And (by the Vertues lodging in his minde)
Can all things needfull, in all places, finde.
To such a Man, what ever doth betide;
From him, his Treasures, nothing can divide.
If of his outward-meanes, Theeves make a prise;
Hee, more occasion hath to exercise
His inward-Riches: and, they prove a Wealth,
More usefull, and lesse lyable to stealth.
If, any at his harmelesse person strike;
Himselfe hee streight contracteth, Torteis-like,
To make the Shell of Suffrance, his defence;
And, counts it Life, to die with Innocence.
If, hee, by hunger, heat, or cold, be payn'd;
If, hee, be slaundred, sleighted, or disdayn'd;
Hee, alwayes keepes and carries, that, within him,
Which may, from those things, ease and comfort, win him.
When, him uncloathed, or unhous'd, you see;
His Resolutions, clothes and houses bee,
That keepe him safer; and, farre warmer too,
Than Palaces, and princely Robes, can doe.
God give mee wealth, that hath so little Cumber;
And, much good doo't the World with all her Lumber.


Illvstr. XXV.

[Here, we an Aged-man described have]

To Learning, J a love should have,
Although one foot were in the Grave.

Here, we an Aged-man described have,
That hath one foot, already, in the Grave:
And, if you marke it (though the Sunne decline,
And horned Cynthia doth begin to shine)
With open booke, and, with attentive eyes,
Himselfe, to compasse Knowledge, he applyes:
And, though that Evening, end his last of dayes,
Yet, I will study, more to learne, he sayes.
From this, we gather, that, while time doth last,
The time of learning, never will be past;
And, that, each houre, till we our life lay downe,
Still, something, touching life, is to be knowne.
When he was old, wise Cato learned Greeke:
But, we have aged-folkes, that are to seeke
Of that, which they have much more cause to learne;
Yet, no such minde in them, wee shall discerne.
For, that, which they should studie in their prime,
Is, oft, deferred, till their latter time:
And, then, old age, unfit for learning, makes them,
Or, else, that common dulnesse overtakes them,
Which makes ashamed, that it should be thought,
They need, like little children, to be taught.
And, so, out of this world, they doe returne
As wise, as in the weeke, when they were borne.
God, grant me grace, to spend my life-time so,
That I my duety still may seeke to know;
And, that, I never, may so farre proceed,
To thinke, that I, more Knowledge, doe not need:
But, in Experience, may continue growing,
Till I am fill'd with fruits of pious-knowing.


Illvstr. XXVI.

[Marke, how the Cornucopias, here, apply]

Good-fortune, will by those abide,
In whom, True-vertue doth reside.

Marke, how the Cornucopias, here, apply
Their Plenties, to the Rod of Mercury;
And (if it seeme not needlesse) learne, to know
This Hieroglyphick's meaning, ere you goe.
The Sages old, by this Mercurian-wand
(Caducæus nam'd) were wont to understand
Art, Wisedome, Vertue, and what else we finde,
Reputed for endowments of the Minde.
The Cornucopias, well-knowne Emblems, are,
By which, great wealth, and plenties, figur'd were;
And (if you joyne together, what they spell)
It will, to ev'ry Vnderstanding, tell,
That, where Internall-Graces may be found,
Eternall-blessings, ever, will abound.
For, this is truth, and (though some thoughts in you
Suggest, that this is, often times, untrue)
This, ever is the truth; and, they have got
Few right-form'd Vertues, who believe it not.
I will confesse, true Vertue hath not ever
All Common-plenties, for which most indeavour;
Nor have the Perfect'st-Vertues, those high places,
Which Knowledge, Arts (and, such as have the faces
Of outward beauty) many times, attaine;
For, these are things, which (often) those men gaine,
That are more flesh, then spirit; and, have need
Of carnall-helpes, till higher they proceede.
But, they, of whom I speake, are flowne so high,
As, not to want those Toyes, for which wee crye:
And, I had showne you somewhat of their store,
But, that, this Page, had roome to write no more.


Illvstr. XXVII.

[This moderne Emblem, is a mute expressing]

The Gospel, thankefully imbrace;
For, God, vouchsafed us, this Grace.

This moderne Emblem, is a mute expressing
Of Gods great Mercies, in a Moderne-blessing;
And, gives me, now, just cause to sing his praise,
For granting me, my being, in these dayes.
The much-desired Messages of Heav'n,
For which, our Fathers would their lives have giv'n,
And (in Groves, Caves, and Mountaines, once a yeare)
Were glad, with hazard of their goods, to heare;
Or, in lesse bloudy times, at their owne homes,
To heare, in private, and obscured roomes.
Lo; those, those Ioyfull-tydings, we doe live
Divulg'd, in every Village, to perceive;
And, that, the sounds of Gladnesse, eccho may,
Through all our goodly Temples, ev'ry day.
This was (Oh God) thy doing; unto thee,
Ascrib'd, for ever, let all Prayses bee.
Prolong this Mercie, and, vouchsafe the fruit,
May to thy Labour, on this Vine-yard, suit:
Lest, for our fruitlesnesse, thy Light of grace,
Thou, from our Golden candlesticke, displace.
We doe, me thinkes, already, Lord, beginne
To wantonize, and let that loathing in,
Which makes thy Manna tastlesse; And, I feare,
That, of those Christians, who, more often heare,
Then practise, what they know, we have too many:
And, I suspect my selfe, as much as any.
Oh! mend me so, that, by amending mee,
Amends in others, may increased be:
And, let all Graces, which thou hast bestow'd,
Returne thee honour, from whom, first, they flow'd.


Illvstr. XXVIII.

[When you have heeded, by your Eyes of sense]

The Bees, will in an Helmet breed;
And, Peace, doth after Warre, succeed.

When you have heeded, by your Eyes of sense,
This Helmet, hiving of a Swarme of Bees,
Consider, what may gather'd be from thence,
And, what your Eye of Vnderstanding sees.
That Helmet, and, those other Weapons, there,
Betoken Warre; the Honey-making, Flyes,
An Emblem of a happy Kingdome, are,
Injoying Peace, by painfull Industries:
And, when, all these together are exprest,
As in this Emblem, where the Bees, doe seeme
To make their dwelling, in a Plumed-Crest,
A Morall is implyed, worth esteeme.
For, these inferre, mysteriously, to me,
That, Peace, and Art, and Thrift, most firme abides,
In those Re-publikes, where, Armes cherisht bee;
And, where, true Martiall-discipline, resides.
When, of their Stings, the Bees, disarm'd, become,
They, who, on others Labours, use to prey,
Incourag'd are, with violence, to come,
And, beare their Honey, and, their Waxe, away.
So when a People, meerely, doe affect
To gather Wealth; and (foolishly secure)
Defences necessary, quite neglect;
Their Foes, to spoyle their Land, it will allure.
Long Peace, brings Warre; and, Warre, brings Peace, againe:
For, when the smart of Warfare seizeth on them,
They crye, Alarme; and, then, to fight, are faine,
Vntill, their Warre, another Peace, hath wonne them;
And, out of their old rusty Helmets, then,
New Bees doe swarme, and, fall to worke agen.


Illvstr. XXIX.

[This Emblem, with some other of the rest]

The Heart of him, that is upright,
In Heavenly-knowledge, takes delight.

This Emblem, with some other of the rest,
Are scarce, with seemly Properties, exprest,
Yet, since a vulgar, and a meane Invention
May yield some Fruit, and shew a good Intention;
Ile, hence, as well informe your Intellects,
As if these Figures had not those defects.
The Booke, here shadow'd, may be said, to show
The Wisdome, and Experience, which we know
By Common meanes, and, by these Creatures, here,
Which to be plac'd below us, may appeare.
The Winged-heart, betokens those Desires,
By which, the Reasonable-soule, aspires
Above the Creature; and, attempts to clime,
To Mysteries, and Knowledge, more sublime:
Ev'n to the Knowledge of the Three-in-one,
Implyed by the Tetragrammaton.
The Smokings of this Heart, may well declare
Those Perturbations, which within us are,
Vntill, that Heavenly wisedome, we have gain'd,
Which is not, here, below, to be attain'd;
And, after which, those Hearts, that are upright,
Enquire with daily studie, and delight.
To me, Oh Lord, vouchsafe thou, to impart
The gift of such a Rectifyed-heart.
Grant me the Knowledge of Inferiour things,
So farre, alone, as their Experience, brings
The Knowledge, which, I ought to have of thee,
And, of those Dueties, thou requir'st of mee:
For, thee, Oh God, to know, and, thee to feare,
Of truest Wisedome, the Perfections are.


Illvstr. XXX.

[Doe men suppose, when Gods free-giving Hand]

Where, Labour, wisely, is imploy'd,
Deserved Glory, is injoy'd.

Doe men suppose, when Gods free-giving Hand,
Doth by their Friends, or, by Inheritance,
To Wealth, or Titles, raise them in the Land,
That, those, to Lasting-glories, them advance?
Or, can men thinke, such Goods, or Gifts of Nature,
As Nimble-apprehensions, Memory,
An Able-body, or, a comely Feature
(Without improvement) them, shall dignifie?
May Sloth, and Idlenesse, be warrantable,
In us, because our Fathers have been rich?
Or, are wee, therefore, truely honourable,
Because our Predecessours, have beene such?
When, nor our Fortunes, nor our naturall parts,
In any measure, are improved by us,
Are others bound (as if we had deserts)
With Attributes of Honour to belye us?
No, no; the more our Predecessours left,
(Yea, and, the more, by nature, we enjoy)
We, of the more esteeme, shall be bereft;
Because, our Talents, we doe mis-imploy.
True Glory, doth on Labour, still attend;
But, without Labour, Glory we have none.
She, crownes good Workmen, when their Works have end;
And, Shame, gives payment, where is nothing done.
Laborious, therefore, bee; But, lest the Spade
(which, here, doth Labour meane) thou use in vaine,
The Serpent, thereunto, be sure thou adde;
That is, Let Prudence guide thy taking paine.
For, where, a wise-endeavour, shall be found,
A Wreath of Glory, will inclose it round.


Illvstr. XXXI.

[These, are the great'st Afflictions, most men have]

Behold, you may, the Picture, here,
Of what, keepes Man, and Childe, in feare.

These, are the great'st Afflictions, most men have,
Ev'n from their Nursing-cradle, to their Grave:
Yet, both so needfull are, I cannot see,
How either of them, may well spared bee.
The Rod is that, which, most our Child-hood feares;
And, seemes the great'st Affliction that it beares:
That, which to Man-hood, is a plague, as common
(And, more unsufferable) is a Woman.
Yet, blush not Ladies; neither frowne, I pray,
That, thus of Women, I presume to say;
Nor, number mee, as yet, among your foes;
For, I am more your friend, then you suppose:
Nor smile ye Men, as if, from hence, ye had
An Argument, that Woman kinde were bad.
The Birch, is blamelesse (yea, by nature, sweet,
And gentle) till, with stubborne Boyes, it meet:
But, then, it smarts. So, Women, will be kinde,
Vntill, with froward Husbands, they are joyn'd:
And, then indeed (perhaps) like Birchen boughes,
(VVhich, else, had beene a trimming, to their House)
They, sometimes prove, sharpe whips, and Rods, to them,
That Wisdome, and, Instruction doe contemne.
A Woman, was not given for Correction;
But, rather for a furtherance to Perfection:
A precious Balme of love, to cure Mans griefe;
And, of his Pleasures, to become the chiefe.
If, therefore, she occasion any smart,
The blame, he merits, wholly, or in part:
For, like sweet Honey, she, good Stomackes, pleases;
But, paines the Body, subject to Diseases.


Illvstr. XXXII.

[When, on this Child-like-figure, thou shalt looke]

Death's one long-Sleepe; and, Life's no more,
But one short-Watch, an houre before.

When, on this Child-like-figure, thou shalt looke,
Which, with his Light, his Houre-glasse, and his booke,
Sits, in a watching-posture, formed here;
And, when thou hast perus'd that Motto, there,
On which he layes his hand; thy selfe apply
To what it counselleth; and, learne to die,
While that Light burnes, and, that short-houre doth last,
Which, for this Lesson, thou obtained hast.
And, in this bus'nesse, use thou no delayes;
For, if the bigger Motto truely, sayes,
There is not left unto thee, one whole Watch,
Thy necessary labours, to dispatch.
It was no more, when first thy Life begunne;
And, many Glasses of that Watch be runne:
Which thou observing, shouldst be put in minde,
To husband well, the space that is behind.
Endeavour honestly, whil'st thou hast light:
Deferre thou not, thy Iourney, till the night;
Nor, sleepe away, in Vanities, the prime,
And flowre, of thy most acceptable time.
So watchfull, rather, and, so carefull be,
That, whensoere the Bridegroome summons thee;
And, when thy Lord returnes, unlookt for, home;
Thou mayst, a Partner, in their joyes, become.
And, oh my God! so warie, and so wise,
Let me be made; that, this, which I advise
To other men (and really have thought)
May, still, in practice, by my selfe, be brought:
And, helpe, and pardon me, when I transgresse,
Through humane frailtie, or, forgetfulnesse.


Illvstr. XXXIII.

[Me thinkes, that Fate, which God weighs forth to all]

What ever God did fore-decree,
Shall, without faile, fulfilled be.

Me thinkes, that Fate, which God weighs forth to all,
I, by the Figure of this Even-Skale,
May partly show; and, let my Reader, see
The state, of an Immutable-decree;
And, how it differs, from those Destinies,
Which carnall understandings, doe devise.
For, this implies, that ev'ry thing, to-come,
Was, by a steady, and, by equall doome,
Weigh'd out, by Providence; and, that, by Grace,
Each thing, each person, ev'ry time, and place,
Had thereunto, a powre, and portion given,
So proper to their nature (and, so even
To that just measure, which, aright became
The Workings, and, the being, of the same)
As, best might helpe the furthering of that end,
Which, God's eternall wisedome, doth intend.
And, though, I dare not be so bold, as they,
Who, of God's Closer, seeme to keep the Key;
(And, things, for absolute Decrees, declare,
Which, either false, or, but Contingents are)
Yet, in his Will-reveal'd, my Reason, sees
Thus much, of his Immutable-decrees:
That, him, a Doome-eternall, reprobateth,
Who scorneth Mercie; or, Instruction hateth,
Without Repenting: And, that, whensoever,
A Sinner, true amendment, shall indeavour;
Bewaile his Wickednesse, and, call for grace;
There shall be, for Compassion, time, and place.
And, this, I hold, a branch of that Decree,
Which, Men may say, shall never changed be.


Illvstr. XXXIV.

[Marke well this Caged-fowle; and, thereby, see]

My Fortune, I had rather beare;
Then come, where greater perills are.

Marke well this Caged-fowle; and, thereby, see,
What, thy estate, may, peradventure, be.
She, wants her freedome; so, perhaps, dost thou,
Some freedomes lacke, which, are desired, now;
And, though, thy Body be not so confin'd;
Art straitned, from some liberty of Minde.
The Bird in thrall, the more contented lyes,
Because, the Hawke, so neere her, she espyes;
And, though, the Cage were open, more would feare,
To venture out, then to continue there:
So, if thou couldst perceive, what Birds of prey,
Are hov'ring round about thee, every day,
To seize thy Soule (when she abroad shall goe,
To take the Freedome, she desireth so)
Thou, farre more fearefull, wouldst of them, become,
Then thou art, now, of what thou flyest from.
Not Precepts, but Experience, thus hath taught me;
Which, to such resolutions, now have brought me,
That, whatsoever mischiefes others doe me,
I make them yield some true Contentments to me;
And, seldome struggle from them, till I see,
That, smother-fortunes will securer be.
What spight soere my Foes, to me, can doe,
I laugh thereat, within an houre or two:
For, though the World, and I, at first, believe,
My Suffrings, give me cause enough to grieve;
Yet, afterward, I finde (the more to glad me)
That, better Fortunes, might farre worse have made me.
By some young Devills, though, I scratched am,
Yet, I am hopefull, I shall scape their Dam.


Illvstr. XXXV.

[Observe the nature of that Fiery-flame]

The more contrary Windes doe blow,
The greater Vertues praise will grow.

Observe the nature of that Fiery-flame,
Which on the Mountaines top so brightly showes;
The Windes from every quarter, blow the same,
Yea, and to blow it out, their fury blowes;
But, lo; the more they storme, the more it shineth;
At every Blast, the Flame ascendeth higher;
And, till the Fuells want, that rage confineth,
It, will be, still, a great, and glorious Fire.
Thus fares the man, whom Vertue, Beacon-like,
Hath fixt upon the Hills of Eminence,
At him, the Tempests of mad Envie strike,
And, rage against his Piles of Innocence;
But, still, the more they wrong him, and the more
They seeke to keepe his worth from being knowne,
They, daily, make it greater, then before;
And, cause his Fame, the farther to be blowne.
When, therefore, no selfe-doting Arrogance,
But, Vertues cover'd with a modest vaile,
Breake through obscurity, and, thee advance
To place, where Envie shall thy worth assaile;
Discourage not thy selfe: but, stand the shockes
Of wrath, and fury. Let them snarle and bite;
Pursue thee, with Detraction, Slanders, Mockes,
And, all the venom'd Engines of Despight,
Thou art above their malice; and, the blaze
Of thy Cælestiall-fire, shall shine so cleare,
That, their besotted soules, thou shalt amaze;
And, make thy Splendours, to their shame, appeare.
If this be all, that Envies rage can doe,
Lord, give me Vertues, though I suffer too.


Illvstr. XXXVI.

[Some better Arguments, then yet I see]

Even as the Smoke doth passe away;
So, shall all Worldly-pompe decay.

Some better Arguments, then yet I see,
I must perceive; and, better causes, why,
To those gay things, I should addicted bee,
To which, the Vulgar their Affections tye.
I have consider'd, Scepters, Miters, Crownes,
With each appurtenance to them belonging;
My heart, hath search'd their Glories, and Renownes;
And, all the pleasant things about them thronging:
My Soule, hath truely weigh'd, and, tooke the measure,
Of Riches (which the most have so desired)
I have distill'd the Quintessence of Pleasure,
And, seene those Objects, that are most admired.
I, likewise feele all Passions, and Affections,
That helpe to cheat the Reason, and perswade
That those poore Vanities, have some perfections,
Whereby their Owners, happy might be made.
Yet, when that I have rouz'd my Vnderstanding,
And cleans'd my Heart from some of that Corruption,
Which hinders in me Reasons free commanding,
And, shewes, things, without vailes, or interruption;
Then, they, me thinkes, as fruitlesse doe appeare,
As Bubbles (wherewithall young-children play)
Or, as the Smoke, which, in our Emblem, here,
Now, makes a show, and, straight, consumes away.
Be pleas'd, Oh God, my value may be such
Of every Outward-blessing, here below,
That, I may neither love them overmuch,
Nor underprise the Gifts, thou shalt bestow:
But, know the use, of all these fading Smokes;
And, be refresht, by that, which others chokes.


Illvstr. XXXVII.

[Upon an Altar, in this Emblem, stands]

Death, is unable to divide
Their Hearts, whose Hands True-love hath tyde.

Upon an Altar, in this Emblem, stands
A Burning-heart; and, therewithall, you see
Beneath Deaths-head, a paire of Loving-hands,
Which, close, and fast-united, seeme to be.
These moderne Hieroglyphickes (vulgarly
Thus bundled up together) may afford
Good-meanings, with as much Propriety,
As best, with common Iudgements, will accord.
It may imply, that, when both Hand and Heart,
By sympathizing dearenesse are invited,
To meet each others nat'rall Counterpart,
And, are by sacred Ordinance united:
They then have entred that strict Obligation,
By which they, firmely, ev'ry way are ty'd;
And, without meanes (or thought of separation)
Should in that Vnion, till their Deaths, abide;
This, therefore, minde thou, whatsoere thou be
(Whose Marriage-ring, this Covenant, hath sealed)
For, though, thy Faith's infringement, none can see,
Thy secret fault, shall one day, be revealed.
And, thou that art at liberty, take heed,
Lest thou (as over great a number doe)
Of thine owne person, make a Privy-deed,
And, afterwards, deny thy doing so.
For, though there be, nor Church, nor Chappell, nigh thee
(Nor outward witnesses of what is done)
A Power-invisible doth alwayes eye thee;
And, thy pretended Love, so lookes upon,
That, if thou be not, till thy dying, true;
Thy Falsehood, till thy dying, thou shalt rue.


Illvstr. XXXVIII.

[Forth of a Cloud (with Scale and Rule) extended]

False Weights, with Measures false eschew,
And, give to ev'ry man, their Due.

Forth of a Cloud (with Scale and Rule) extended
An Arme (for this next Emblem) doth appeare;
Which hath to us in silent-showes, commended,
A Vertue, that is often wanting, here.
The World, is very studious of Deceipts;
And, he is judged wisest, who deceives.
False-measures, and, Adulterated-weights,
Of many dues, the needy-man bereaves.
Ev'n Weights to sell, and, other Weights to buy
(Two sorts of weights) in practice are, with some;
And, both of these, they often falsifie,
That, they to great, and suddaine-wealth, may come.
But, Conscience make of raysing your estates,
By such a base, and such a wicked way:
For, this Injustice, God expressely hates;
And, brings, at last, such thrivers to decay.
By Weight and measure, He on all bestowes
The Portions due; That, Weight and Measure, then,
Which Man to God, or to his Neighbour owes,
Should, justly, be returned backe agen.
Give ev'ry one, in ev'ry thing his owne:
Give honour, where an honour shall be due;
Where you are loved, let your love be showne;
And, yield them succours, who have succour'd you.
Give to thy Children, breeding and Corrections;
Thy Charities, ev'n to thy Foes extend:
Give to thy Wife, the best of thy Affections;
To God, thy selfe, and, all thou hast, commend:
And, lest thou faile, Remember who hath sayd,
Such measure, as thou giv'st, shall be repay'd.


Illvstr. XXXIX.

[When, in this Emblem here, observe you shall]

He needs not feare, what spight can doe,
Whom Vertue friends, and Fortune, too.

When, in this Emblem here, observe you shall
An Eaglet, perched, on a Winged-ball
Advanced on an Altar; and, have ey'd
The Snakes, assayling him, on ev'ry side:
Me thinkes, by that, you straight should apprehend
Their state, whom Wealth, and Vertue, doe befriend.
My Iudgement, by that Altar-stone, conceives
The sollidnesse, which, true Religion gives;
And, that fast-grounded goodnesse, which, we see,
In grave, and sound Morality, to be.
The Flying-ball, doth, very well, expresse
All Outward-blessings, and, their ficklenesse.
Our Eaglet, meaneth such Contemplatives,
As, in this world, doe passe away their lives,
By so possessing that which they have got,
As if they car'd not, though, they had it not.
The Snakes, may well resemble those, among them,
Who, meerely out of envie, seeke to wrong them;
And, all these Figures (thus together layd)
Doe speake to me, as if these words, they sayd:
That man, who builds upon the best foundation,
(And spreads the widest wings of Contemplation)
Whil'st, in the flesh, he bides, will need some props
Of earthly-fortunes, to support his hopes:
And, other-while, those things, may meanes become,
The stings of Envie, to secure him from.
And, hence, I learne; that, such, as will abide,
Against all Envie, strongly fortify'd,
Must joyne, great Vertues, and great Wealth, together.
God helpe us, then, poore-soules, who scarce have either!


Illvstr. XL.

[Five Termes, there be, which five, I doe apply]

Time, is a Fading-flowre, that's found
Within Eternities wide round.

Five Termes, there be, which five, I doe apply
To all, that was, and is, and, shall be done.
The first, and last, is that Eternitie,
Which, neither shall have End, nor, was begunne.
Beginning, is the next; which, is a space
(Or moment rather) scarce imaginarie,
Made, when the first Materiall, formed was;
And, then, forbidden, longer time to tarry.
Time entred, when, Beginning had an Ending,
And, is a Progresse, all the workes of Nature,
Within the circuit of it, comprehending,
Ev'n till the period, of the Outward-creature.
End, is the fourth, of those five Termes I meane;
(As briefe, as was Beginning) and, ordayned,
To set the last of moments, to that Scæne,
Which, on this Worlds wide Stage, is entertayned.
The fifth, we Everlasting, fitly, call;
For, though, it once begunne, yet, shall it never
Admit, of any future-end, at all;
But, be extended onward, still, for ever.
The knowledge of these Termes, and of what actions,
To each of them belongs, would set an end,
To many Controversies, and Distractions,
Which doe so many trouble, and offend.
Time's nature, by the Fading-flowre, appeares;
Which, is a Type, of Transitory things:
The Circled-snake, Eternitie declares;
Within whose Round, each fading Creature, springs.
Some Riddles more, to utter, I intended,
But, lo; a sudden stop, my words have ended.


Illvstr. XLI.

[If (Reader) thou desirous be to know]

When great Attempts are undergone,
Ioyne Strength and Wisedome, both in one.

If (Reader) thou desirous be to know
What by the Centaure, seemeth here intended;
What, also, by the Snake, and, by the Bowe,
Which in his hand, he beareth alway bended:
Learne, that this halfe-a man, and halfe-a horse,
Is ancient Hieroglyphicke, teaching thee,
That, Wisedome should be joyn'd with outward force,
If prosperous, we desire our workes to be.
His Vpper-part, the shape of Man, doth beare,
To teach, that, Reason must become our guide.
The hinder-parts, a Horses Members are;
To shew, that we must, also, strength provide:
The Serpent, and the Bowe, doth signifie
The same (or matter to the same effect)
And, by two Types, one Morall to implie,
Is doubled a fore-warning of neglect.
When Knowledge wanteth Power, despis'd we grow,
And, know but how to aggravate our paine:
Great strength, will worke it owne sad overthrow,
Vnlesse, it guided be, with Wisedomes reine.
Therefore, Oh God, vouchsafe thou so to marry
The gifts of Soule and Body, both, in me,
That, I may still have all things necessary,
To worke, as I commanded am, by thee.
And, let me not possesse them, Lord, alone,
But, also, know their vse; and, so well know it,
That, I may doe each duety to be done;
And, with upright Intentions, alwayes doe it.
If this be more, then, yet, obtaine I may,
My will accept thou, for the deed, I pray.


Illvstr. XLII.

[We doe acknowledge (as this Emblem showes)]

The Ground brings forth all needfull things;
But, from the Sunne, this vertue springs.

We doe acknowledge (as this Emblem showes)
That Fruits and Flowres, and many pleasant-things,
From out the Ground, in ev'ry season growes;
And, that unto their being, helpe it brings.
Yet, of it selfe, the Ground, we know is dull,
And, but a Willing-patient, whereupon
The Sunne, with Beames, and Vertues wonderfull,
Prepareth, and effecteth, what is done.
We, likewise, doe acknowledge, that our eyes
Indowed are with faculties of Seeing,
And, with some other nat'rall properties,
Which are as much our owne, as is our Being.
However, till the Sunne imparts his light,
We finde, that we in darkenesse doe remaine,
Obscured in an everlasting night;
And, boast our Seeing-faculties, in vaine.
So, we, by nature, have some nat'rall powers:
But, Grace, must those abilities of ours
First move; and, guide them, still, in moving, thus,
To worke with God, when God shall worke on us:
For, God so workes, that, no man he procures
Against his nature, ought to chuse, or shun:
But, by his holy-Spirit, him allures;
And, with sweet mildnesse, proveth ev'ry one.
The Sunne is faultlesse of it, when the birth
Of some bad Field, is nothing else but Weeds:
For, by the selfe-same Sun shine, fruitfull Earth
Beares pleasant Crops, and plentifully breeds.
Thus, from our selves, our Vices have increase,
Our Vertues, from the Sunne of Righteousnesse.


Illvstr. XLIII.

[This is the Poets-horse; a Palfray, Sirs]

No passage can divert the Course,
Of Pegasus, the Muses Horse.

This is the Poets-horse; a Palfray, Sirs,
(That may be ridden, without rod or spurres)
Abroad, more famous then Bucephalus,
Though, not so knowne, as Banks his horse, with us;
Or some of those fleet-horses, which of late,
Have runne their Masters, out of their estate.
For, those, and Hobby-horses, best befit
The note, and practice of their moderne wit,
Who, what this Horse might meane, no knowledge had,
Vntill, a Taverne-signe, they saw it made.
Yet, this old Emblem (worthy veneration)
Doth figure out, that winged-contemplation,
On which the Learned mount their best Invention,
And, climbe the Hills of highest Apprehension.
This is the nimble Gennet, which doth carry,
Their Fancie, thorow Worlds imaginary;
And, by Idæas feigned, shewes them there,
The nature of those Truths, that reall are.
By meanes of this, our Soules doe come to know
A thousand secrets, in the Deeps below;
Things, here on Earth, and, things above the Skyes,
On which, we never fixed, yet, our eyes.
No thorny, miery, sheepe, nor craggy place,
Can interrupt this Courser, in his race:
For, that, which others, in their passage troubles,
Augments his courage, and his vigour doubles.
Thus, fares the Minde, infus'd with brave desires;
It flies through Darkenesse, Dangers, Flouds, and Fires:
And, in despight of what her ayme resisteth:
Pursues her hopes, and takes the way she listeth.


Illvstr. XLIV.

[The painfull Husbandman, with sweaty browes]

The Husbandman, doth sowthe Seeds;
And, then, on Hope, till Harvest, feeds.

The painfull Husbandman, with sweaty browes,
Consumes in labour many a weary day:
To breake the stubborne earth, he digs and ploughes,
And, then, the Corne, he scatters on the clay:
When that is done, he harrowes in the Seeds,
And, by a well-cleans'd Furrow, layes it drye:
He, frees it from the Wormes, the Moles, the Weeds;
He, on the Fences, also hath an eye.
And, though he see the chilling Winter, bring
Snowes, Flouds, and Frosts, his Labours to annoy;
Though blasting-windes doe nip them in the Spring,
And, Summers Meldewes, threaten to destroy:
Yea, though not onely Dayes, but Weekes, they are
(Nay, many Weekes, and, many Moneths beside)
In which he must with payne, prolong his care,
Yet, constant in his hopes he doth abide.
For this respect, Hope's Emblem, here, you see
Attends the Plough, that men beholding it,
May be instructed, or else minded be,
What Hopes, continuing Labours, will befit.
Though, long thou toyled hast, and, long attended
About such workings as are necessary;
And, oftentimes, ere fully they are ended,
Shalt finde thy paines in danger to miscarry:
Yet, be not out of hope, nor quite dejected:
For, buryed Seeds will sprout when Winter's gone;
Vnlikelier things are many times effected;
And, God brings helpe, when men their best have done.
Yea, they that in Good-workes their life imploy;
Although, they sowe in teares, shall reape in joy.


Illvstr. XLV.

[When, thou shalt visit, in the Moneth of May]

Things, to their best perfection come,
Not all at once, but, some, and some

When, thou shalt visit, in the Moneth of May,
A costly Garden, in her best array;
And, view the well-grown Trees, the wel-trimm'd Bowers,
The Beds of Herbs, the knots of pleasant flowers,
With all the deckings, and the fine devices,
Perteyning to those earthly Paradises,
Thou canst not well suppose, one day, or two,
Did finish all, which had beene, there, to doe.
Nor dost thou, when young Plants, or new-sowne Lands,
Doe thirst for needfull Watrings, from thy hands,
By Flood-gates, let whole Ponds amongst them come;
But, them besprinklest, rather, some and some;
Lest, else, thou marre the Flowres, or chill the Seed,
Or drowne the Saplings, which did moysture need.
Let this experiment, which, to thy thought,
May by this Emblem, now perhaps, be brought,
Perswade thee to consider, that, no actions,
Can come, but by degrees, to their perfections;
And, teach thee, to allot, for every thing,
That leisurely-proceeding, which may bring
The ripenesse, and the fulnesse, thou expectest:
And, though thy Hopes, but slowly thou effectest,
Discourage not thy selfe; since, oft they prove
Most prosperous actions, which at leisure move.
By many drops, is made a mighty showre;
And many minutes finish up an houre:
By little, and by little, we possesse
Assurance of the greatest Happinesse.
And, oft, by too much haste, and, too much cost,
Great Wealth, great Honours, and, great Hopes, are lost.


Illvstr. XLVI.

[Though I am somewhat soberer to day]

Affliction, doth to many adde
More value, then, before, they had.

Though I am somewhat soberer to day,
I have been (I confesse) as mad as they,
Who think those men, that large Possessions have,
Gay Clothes, fine Furnitures, and Houses brave,
Are those (nay more, that they alone are those)
On whom, the stile of Rich, we should impose.
But, having, by experience, understood
His words, who sayd, his troubles did him good,
I, now perceive, the Worldly-rich are poore,
Vnlesse of Sorrowes, also, they have store.
Till from the Straw, the Flaile, the Corne doth beat;
Vntill the Chaffe, be purged from the Wheat,
Yea, till the Mill, the Graines in pieces teare,
The richnesse of the Flowre, will scarce appeare.
So, till mens persons great Afflictions touch
(If worth be found) their worth is not so much,
Because, like Wheat, in Straw, they have not, yet,
That value, which in threshing, they may get.
For, till the bruising Flailes of God's Corrections,
Have threshed out of us our vaine Affections;
Till those Corruptions, which doe misbecome us,
Are by thy Sacred-spirit, winnowed from us;
Vntill, from us, the straw of Worldly-treasures;
Till all the dusty Chaffe of empty Pleasures;
Yea, till his Flaile, upon us, he doth lay,
To thresh the huske of this our Flesh away;
And, leave the Soule uncover'd; nay, yet more,
Till God shall make, our very Spirit poore;
We shall not up to highest Wealth aspire:
But, then we shall; and, that is my desire.


Illvstr. XLVII.

[A Snake, (which was by wise Antiquitie]

Though Fortune, hath a powerfull Name,
Yet, Vertue overcomes the same.

A Snake, (which was by wise Antiquitie
Much us'd, the type of Prudencie to be)
Hemmes in a Winged-ball, which doth imply,
That Fickle-fortune, from which, none are free.
Above this Ball, the Snake advanceth too,
The Laurell, and the Sword; which, Emblems are,
Whereby our Authour maketh much adoe,
A Conquest over Fortune, to declare.
And, well enough this purpose it befits,
If (Reader) any one of those thou be,
Whose Fortunes must be mended by their Wits;
And, it affords instructions fit for thee:
For, hence, thou mayst collect, that, no estate
Can, by Misfortunes means, become so bad,
But, Prudence (who is Mistresse over Fate)
May rule it so, that, good it might be made.
Though Fortunes outlawes, on thy Riches prey,
By Wisedome, there is meanes, of getting more;
And, ev'ry rub that's placed in thy way,
Shall make thee walke more safely, then before.
Nor Poverty, nor Paynes, nor Spightfulnesse,
Nor other Mischiefes, that Mischance can doe thee,
Shall bring thee any sorrow or distresse,
Which will not be, at last, advantage to thee.
Lord, give me such a Prudence: for my Fortune
Puts many foyles, and cruell thrusts upon me:
Thy helpe, long since, it made me to importune;
And, thou didst grant it, or she had undone me.
Still, daigne me thy assistance, Lord, and, than,
Let all Misfortunes, doe the worst they can.


Illvstr. XLVIII.

[In this our Emblem, you shall finde exprest]

A Life, with good-repute, Jle have,
Or, winne an honourable Grave.

In this our Emblem, you shall finde exprest
A Man, incountring with a Salvage-beast;
And, he resolveth (as his Motto sayes)
To live with honour; or, to dye with praise.
I like the Resolution, and the Deed,
In which, this Figure teacheth to proceed.
For, us, me thinkes, it counselleth, to doe,
An act, which all men are oblig'd unto.
That ugly Bore (wherewith the man in strife
Here seemes to be) doth meane a Swinish-life,
And, all those beastly Vices, that assay
To root becomming Vertues quite away;
Those Vices, which not onely marre our features,
But, also, ruinate our manly natures.
The harmefull fury, of this raging Bore,
Oppose couragiously, lest more and more,
It get within you; and, at last, appeare
More prevalent, then your defences are.
It is a large-growne Pig, of that wilde Swine,
Which, ev'ry day, attempts to undermine
Our Safeties Fort: Twas he, which long agoe,
Did seeke the Holy-Vineyards overthrow:
And, if we charge him not with all our power,
The Sire, or hee, will enter and devoure.
But, what's our strength, O Lord! or, what are wee
In such a Combate, without ayde from thee?
Oh, come to helpe us, therefore, in this Fight;
And, let us be inabled in thy might:
So, we shall both in life-time, Conquests have;
And, be victorious, also, in the Grave.


Illvstr. XLIX.

[What in this Emblem, that mans meanings were]

Shee shall increase in glory, still,
Vntill her light, the world, doth fill.

What in this Emblem, that mans meanings were,
Who made it first, I neither know nor care;
For, whatsoere, he purposed, or thought,
To serve my purpose, now it shall be taught;
Who, many times, before this Taske is ended,
Must picke out Moralls, where was none intended.
This knot of Moones (or Crescents) crowned thus,
Illustrate may a Mystery to us,
Of pious use (and, peradventure, such,
As from old Hieroglyphicks, erres not much)
Old-times, upon the Moone, three names bestow'd;
Because, three diverse wayes, her selfe she show'd:
And, in the sacred-bookes, it may be showne,
That holy-Church, was figur'd by the Moone.
Then, these three Moones in one, may intimate
The holy-Churches threefold blest estate.
The Moone, still, biding in our Hemisphære,
May typifie the Church, consisting, here,
Of men, yet living: when she shewes her light
Among us here, in portions of the night;
The Church it figures, as consist she may
Of them, whose bodies in the Grave doe stay;
And, whose blest spirits, are ascended thither,
Where Soule and Body meet, at last, together.
But, when the Moone is hidden from our eyes,
The Church-triumphant, then, she signifies;
Which, is a Crescent yet, that, some, and some,
Must grow, till all her parts together come:
And, then, this Moone shall beames, at full, display;
Lord, hasten this great Coronation-day.


Illvstr. L.

[Lord, what a coyle men keepe, and, with what care]

True Vertue is a Coat of Maile,
'Gainst which, no Weapons can prevaile.

Lord , what a coyle men keepe, and, with what care
Their Pistolls, and, their Swords doe they prepare,
To be in readinessse? and, how they load
Themselves with Irons, when they ride abroad?
How wise and wary too, can they become,
To fortifie their persons up at home,
With lockes, and barres? and such domestick-Armes,
As may secure their bodies, there, from harmes?
However, when all's done, we see, their foes
Breake in, sometimes, and worke their overthrowes.
For, though (about themselves, with Cable-quoiles,
They could inclose a hundred thousand miles)
The gunshot of a slanderous tongue, may smite,
Their Fame quite through it, to the very White.
Yea, more (though, there, from others, they were free)
They wounded, by themselves, to death might be,
Except their Innocence, more guards them, than
The strength of twenty royall Armies, can.
If, therefore, thou thy Spoylers, wilt beguile,
Thou must be armed, like this Crocodile;
Ev'n with such nat'rall Armour (ev'ry day)
As no man can bestowe, or take away:
For, spitefull Malice, at one time or other,
Will pierce all borrowed Armours, put together.
Without, let Patience durifie thy Skin;
Let Innocencie, line thy heart within;
Let constant Fortitude, unite them so,
That, they may breake the force of ev'ry blow:
And, when thou thus art arm'd, if ill thou speed;
Let me sustaine the Mischiefe, in thy steed.
Finis Libri secundi.