BOOK I.-EMBLEM IX.

1 JOHN ii. 17.

The world passeth away, and all the lusts thereof.

DRAW near, brave sparks, whose spirits scorn to light

Your hallow'd tapers but at honour's flame; You, whose heroic actions take delight

To varnish over a new painted name;

Whose high-bred thoughts disdain to take their flight, But on th' Icarian wings of babbling Fame;

Behold, how tott'ring are your high-built stories Of earth, whereon you trust the ground-work of your glories.

And you, more brain-sick lovers, that can prize
A wanton smile before eternal joys;
That know no heav'n but in your mistress' eyes;
That feel no pleasure but what sense enjoys:
That can, like crown-distemper'd fools, despise
True riches, and, like babies, whine for toys:

Think ye the pageants of you hopes are able
To stand secure on earth, when earth itself's unstable?
Come, dunghill wordlings, you that root like swine,
And cast up golden trenches where ye come:
Whose only pleasure is to undermine,

And view the secrets of your mother's womb: Come, bring your saint, pouch'd in his leathern shrine,

And summon all your griping angels home:

Behold your world, the bank of all your store; The world ye so admire, the world ye so adore.

36

EMBLEMS.

BOOK 1.

A feeble world, whose hot-mouth'd pleasures tire
Before the race; before the start, retreat :
A faithless world, whose false delights expire
Before the term of half their promis'd date:
A fickle world, not worth the least desire,
Where ev'ry chance proclaims a change of state :
A feeble, faithless, fickle world, wherein
Each motion proves a vice, and every act a sin.

The beauty, that of late was in her flow'r,
Is now a ruin, not to raise a lust,

He that was lately drench'd in Danae's show'r,
Is master now of neither gold nor trust;
Whose honour late was mann'd with princely pow'r,
His glory now lies buried in the dust;

O who would trust this world, or prize what's

in it,

That gives and takes, and chops, and changes, ev'ry minute!

Nor length of days, nor solid strength of brain,
Can find a place wherein to rest secure :
The world is various, and the earth is vain;
There's nothing certain here, there's nothing sure;
We trudge, we travel, but from pain to pain,
And what's our only grief's our only cure:

The world's a torment; he that would endeavour To find the way to rest, must seek the way to leave her.

BOOK I.

EMBLEMS.

37

St. Greg. in Hom.

Behold, the world is withered in itself, yet flourisheth in our hearts, every where death, every where grief, every where desolation: on every side we are smitten; on every side filled with bitterness; and yet, with the blind mind of carnal desire, we love her bitterness. It flieth and we follow it; it falleth, yet we stick to it: and, because we cannot enjoy it falling, we fall with it, and enjoy it fallen.

Epig. 9.

If fortune fail, or envious Time but spurn,
The world turns round, and with the world we turn:
When Fortune sees, and lynx-ey'd Time is blind,
I'll trust thy joys, O world; till then, the wind.

E.

BOOK I.-EMBLEM X.

JOHN viii. 44.

Ye are of your father the devil, and the lusts of you father ye will do.

HERE's your right ground: wag gently o'er this black:

'Tis a short cast; y' are quickly at the jack; Rub, rub an inch or two; two crowns to one

On this bowl's side; blow wind, 'tis fairly thrown: The next bowl's worse that comes; come, bowl

away;

Mammon, you know the ground untutor'd, play:
Your last was gone; a yard of strength, well spar'd,
Had touch'd the block: your hand is still too hard.
Brave pastime, readers, to consume that day,
Which, without pastime, flies too swift away!
See how they labour; as if day and night
Were both too short to serve their loose delight:
See how their curved bodies writhe, and screw
Such antic shapes as Proteus never knew:
One raps an oath, another deals a curse;
He never better blow'd; this vever worse:

EMBLEM 10.

Utriufque Crepundia Merces.

The Sum of all that thus their Strength employs On either side, are Folly's glittring Toys.