BOOK II. EMBLEM VIII.

PHILIPPIANS iii. 19, 20.

They mind earthly things, but our conversation is in heaven.

VENUS. DIVINE CUPID.

Ven. WHAT means this peevish brat? Whish, lullaby;

What ails my babe? what ails may babe to cry?
Will nothing still it? Will it neither be

Pleas'd with the nurse's breast or mother's knee?
What ails my bird? What moves my froward boy
To make such whimp'ring faces? Peace, my joy:
Will nothing do? Come, come, this pettish brat,
Thus cry and brawl, and cannot tell for what?
Come, buss and friends, my lamb; wish lullaby;
What ails my babe? what ails my babe to cry?
Peace, peace, my dear; alas! thy early years
Had never faults to merit half these tears;
Come, smile upon me: let thy mother spy
Thy father's image in her baby's eye:
Husband these guiltless drops against the rage
Of harder fortunes, and the gripes of age;
Thine eye's not ripe for tears: Whish, lullaby;
What ails my babe, my sweet-fac'd babe, to cry?

78

EMBLEMS.

BOOK II.

Look, look, what's here! A dainty golden thing:
See how the dancing bells turn round and ring,
To please my bantling? Here's a knack will breed
A hundred kisses: here's a knack indeed.
So, now my bird is white, and looks as fair
As Pelop's shoulder, or my milk-white pair:
Here's right the father's smile: when Mars beguil'd
Sick Venus of her heart, just thus he smil❜d.

Divine Cupid.

Well may they smile alike; thy base-bred boy And his base sire had both one cause-a toy:" How well their subjects and their smiles agree! Thy Cupid finds a toy, and Mars found thee: False queen of beauty, queen of false delights, Thy knee presents an emblem, that invites Man to himself, whose self-transported heart (O' erwhelm'd with native sorrows, and the smart Of purchas'd griefs) lies whinning night and day, Not knowing why, till heavy-heel'd Delay, The dull-brow'd pander of Despair, lays by His leaden buskins, and presents his eye With antic trifles, which the indulgent earth Makes proper objects of man's childish mirth. These be the coin that pass, the sweets that please; There's nothing good, there's nothing great, but

these:

These be the pipes that base-born minds dance after, And turn immod'rate tears to lavish laughter;

Whilst heav'nly raptures pass without regard;
Their strings are harsh, and their high strains un-
heard:

The ploughman's whistle, or the trivial flute,
Find more respect than great Apollo's lute:
We'll look to Heav'n, and trust to higher joys;
Let swine love husks, and children whine for toys.

That is the true and chief joy, which is not conceived from the creature, but received from the Creator, which (being once possessed thereof) none can take from thee: whereto all pleasure, being compared, is torment, all joy is grief, sweet things are bitter, all glory is baseness, and all delectable things are despicable.

Bern.

Joy, in a changeable subject, must necessarily change as the subject changeth.

Epig. 8.

Peace, childish Cupid, peace: thy finger'd eye
But cries for what, in time, will make thee cry.
But are thy peevish wranglings thus appeas'd?
Well may'st thou cry, that art so poorly pleas'd

BOOK II.-EMBLEM IX.

ISAIAH X. 3.

What will ye do in the day of your visitation? to whom will ye flee for help? and where will ye leave your glory?

Is this that jolly god, whose cyprian bow
Has shot so many flaming darts,
And made so many wounded beauties go
Sadly perplex'd with whimp'ring hearts?
Is this that sov'reign deity, that brings
The slavish world in awe, and stings
The blund'ring souls of swains, and stoops the hearts
of kings?

What Circean charm, what Hecatean spite,
Has thus abus'd the god of love?

Great Jove was vanquish'd by his greater might;
(And who is stronger-arm'd than Jove?)

Or has our lustful god perform'd a rape,

And (fearing Argus' eyes) would 'scape
The view of jealous Earth, in this prodigious shape

Where be those rosy cheeks, that lately scorn'd
The malice of injurious fates?

Ah! where's that pearl portcullis,* that adorn'd
Those dainty two-leav'd ruby gates?

Where be those killing eyes that so controll'd
The world, and locks that did infold

Like nots of flaming wire, like curls of burnish'd gold?

*Portcullis (a term of fortification); i. e. a grate dropped down, to stop a gateway.

Se has