Solomon's recantation Intituled Ecclesiastes, paraphras'd. With A Soliloquy or Meditation Upon Every Chapter. By Francis Quarles |
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| II. |
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| III. |
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| IV. |
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| VII. |
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 | CHAP. IV. Solomon's recantation |  |
My Soul return'd and fixt her Thoughts upon
The hard Oppressions made beneath the Sun;
And lo, the Tears of Captives in Distress,
Cry'd loud for Comfort, yet were comfortless;
Great were the Oppressor's Power, yet the Grief
Of the Opprest was void of all Relief:
O then, I counted their Condition blest,
Whom Death hath lull'd in everlasting Rest;
Yea, far more blest than those that live, to stand
Afflicted Patients at th'Opressor's Hand.
Nay, far than both are they more blessed, whom
Conception never hansell'd in the Womb;
Or those Abortives, whom untimely Birth
Excus'd from all the Sorrows of the Earth.
I mus'd again, and found when Pains had crackt
The harder Shell to some heroick Act,
Pale Envy strikes the Kernel with Taxation;
O this is Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
The sluggish Fool that solitary stands,
With yawning Lips, and bosom-folded Hands,
Consumes his empty Days, at last, is fed
With his own Flesh, that would not move for Bread:
His idle Tongue thus pleading for his Sloth,
Better one Hand be fill'd with Rest, than both
Strech'd forth in Travel, to prepare full Diet,
With Hearts Vexation, and the Soul's Disquiet.
Thus pausing, Contemplation shew'd mine Eye,
A new Prospect of human Vanity;
There is a lonely Man that hath none other
To foster than himself, nor Child nor Brother,
Whose droyling Hands think nothing can supply
The greedy Wants of his insatiate Eye;
He robs himself, nor knows for whose Relief;
This is a Vanity and wounding Grief.
The single State of him that lives alone
Is double Grief; Two better is than One:
For Two can share the Sorrows that befal
To One; One's worse than not to be at all;
If eithers drooping Shoulders be betray'd
To a sad Burden, there's a mutual Aid:
Woe to the Man whom Danger meets alone,
For there's no Arm to help him but his own:
When two divide the Comforts of a Bed,
If one gains kindly Warmth, the other's sped:
But Warmth turns back to him that lies alone;
The Steel will yield no Sparks without the Stone.
If Fury from a stronger Arm assails,
One falls before the Foe when two prevails:
But if a third put in a timely Stroke,
The Cord that's threefold is not quickly broke.
To be a poor wise Child, is judg'd a thing
More honorable than to be a King
That's old and foolish, and whose Disposition
Checks at Advice, and spurns at Admonition.
The low and lank Estates are often known
To climb from Prisons, to the princely Throne;
And glorious Monarchs have been seen to fail,
And change their glittering Glory for a Gaol.
So have I seen the vulgar Hearts grow cold
To withering Greatness, whilst their Eyes behold
The blooming Heir, to whom Affections run
Like morning Eyes to greet the rising Sun.
Past Ages quench the Father's fading Light
In the Son's Hopes, and future Days benight
The Son in his Succeeders Expectation;
O this is Vanity and Souls Vexation.
The hard Oppressions made beneath the Sun;
And lo, the Tears of Captives in Distress,
Cry'd loud for Comfort, yet were comfortless;
Great were the Oppressor's Power, yet the Grief
Of the Opprest was void of all Relief:
O then, I counted their Condition blest,
Whom Death hath lull'd in everlasting Rest;
Yea, far more blest than those that live, to stand
Afflicted Patients at th'Opressor's Hand.
19
Conception never hansell'd in the Womb;
Or those Abortives, whom untimely Birth
Excus'd from all the Sorrows of the Earth.
I mus'd again, and found when Pains had crackt
The harder Shell to some heroick Act,
Pale Envy strikes the Kernel with Taxation;
O this is Vanity, and Souls Vexation.
The sluggish Fool that solitary stands,
With yawning Lips, and bosom-folded Hands,
Consumes his empty Days, at last, is fed
With his own Flesh, that would not move for Bread:
His idle Tongue thus pleading for his Sloth,
Better one Hand be fill'd with Rest, than both
Strech'd forth in Travel, to prepare full Diet,
With Hearts Vexation, and the Soul's Disquiet.
Thus pausing, Contemplation shew'd mine Eye,
A new Prospect of human Vanity;
There is a lonely Man that hath none other
To foster than himself, nor Child nor Brother,
Whose droyling Hands think nothing can supply
The greedy Wants of his insatiate Eye;
He robs himself, nor knows for whose Relief;
This is a Vanity and wounding Grief.
The single State of him that lives alone
Is double Grief; Two better is than One:
For Two can share the Sorrows that befal
To One; One's worse than not to be at all;
If eithers drooping Shoulders be betray'd
To a sad Burden, there's a mutual Aid:
Woe to the Man whom Danger meets alone,
For there's no Arm to help him but his own:
When two divide the Comforts of a Bed,
If one gains kindly Warmth, the other's sped:
But Warmth turns back to him that lies alone;
The Steel will yield no Sparks without the Stone.
If Fury from a stronger Arm assails,
One falls before the Foe when two prevails:
20
The Cord that's threefold is not quickly broke.
To be a poor wise Child, is judg'd a thing
More honorable than to be a King
That's old and foolish, and whose Disposition
Checks at Advice, and spurns at Admonition.
The low and lank Estates are often known
To climb from Prisons, to the princely Throne;
And glorious Monarchs have been seen to fail,
And change their glittering Glory for a Gaol.
So have I seen the vulgar Hearts grow cold
To withering Greatness, whilst their Eyes behold
The blooming Heir, to whom Affections run
Like morning Eyes to greet the rising Sun.
Past Ages quench the Father's fading Light
In the Son's Hopes, and future Days benight
The Son in his Succeeders Expectation;
O this is Vanity and Souls Vexation.
| CHAP. IV. Solomon's recantation | |