Ecclesiastes, othervvise called The preacher Containing Salomons sermons or commentaries (as it may probably be collected) vpon the 49. Psalme of Dauid his father. Compendiously abridged, and also paraphrastically dilated in English poesie, according to the analogie of Scripture, and consent of the most approued writer thereof. Composed by H.L. Gentleman. Whereunto are annexed sundrie sonets of Christian passions heretofore printed, and now corrected and augmented, with other affectionate sonets of a feeling conscience of the same authors.

Chap. 1.

[verse 1] Those sacred words king Dauids son did preach, who Israel taught [verse 2] All vanitie of vanities, he calls: more light then thought.

1.

The words of the Preacher the sonne of Dauid king in Ierusalem.

THe heauenly words of holy Dauids sonne, Who ouer Israels race sometimes did raigne, Wherewith to vertue he his subiects wonne, Whilst in Ierusalem he did remaine, And to instruct them thus did not disdaine. Those words, no vaine discourse it is I write, Pend by a Prince, as God did them indite.

Strange doctrines, which some paradoxes call, But yet the quintessence of holy creed, Liues pure Elixer, which is sought of all, T'asswage cares corasiues, in heart that breed, Of happinesse the generatiue seed, Of morall speculation practise sound: Of constant faith the quiet fruit he found.

2.

Vanitie of va∣nities, saith the Preacher: va∣nity of vanities, all is vanitie.

The farre fet happinesse which some propound, In minds, in bodies, and in fortunes gifts: (Which all conioyned seeldome times are found) But to a vaine conceit the fancie lifts, And their best Sectaries do lose their drifts; The crowne it is, of heauens most glorious state, Earths fruites all vaine: care, folly, and debate.

Yea vaine, all vaine (saith he) mans soule well proues, What euer on earths spatious Orbe below Hath breath, life, being, sense, or what so moues By vegetatiue kind: or which doth ow To nature a declyning state to grow. Vaine in the roote, in bud, in flower all vaine: Vaine fruit, whose of-springs vainly vades againe.

[verse 3] What solid fruite finds tyred man, of trauell vnder Sunne? [verse 4] The earth is firme, whilst mans age past, another age doth runne.

3.

What remai∣neth vnto man in all his trauel, which he suffe∣reth vnder the Sunne?

What if some one amids a multitude, More happie in many points then others be? Yet truly can you not thereby conclude, That perfect happie, in all respects is he: Nor long time can enioy the same we see. Vpon a tickle point earths blessings stand, And come and go in turning of a hand.

All must confesse, that nothing long remaines To man, for all the trauels of his mynd, Sustained in this life with bodies paines, Since earth and earthly things all vade by kynd, As doth a shadow or a puffe of wynd. No prouidence preuenteth destinie, Earth and her fruites do liue but for to die.

4.

One generatiō passeth, and an other genera∣tiō succeedeth, but the earth remaineth for euer.

Mans life like to a burning lampe doth wast, And like the ship on sea all stormes abyde, Flies swift as thought, which straight is come and past: Whose memorie as soone away doth slyde, As trace which soaring fowle through aire did guyde, Whose entercourse of change so swift doth go, That sence can scarce discerne that it was so.

And as on stage new actors issue still, Vntill each part expir'd, the play be done: So generations newe the world do fill, And ages newe past ages ouer-runne: And shall till this worlds end haue new begun That other world, which neuer shall haue end: To which we posting thus, our hopes should bend.

[verse 5] The mouing sun doth rise and set, and turnes from whence it came, [verse 6] The wind frō north to south blows roūd, & calmeth with the same.

5.

The sunne ri∣seth, and the sunne goeth downe, and draweth to his place where he riseth.

Yea all heauens elements full well we see, Though farre more durable then man by kind, Yet for our vse, in motion still to bee, And by their change of change put vs in mind, As in the lightsome sunne we proofe may find; Whose time in measuring out our time is spent, Whilst we to marke his motion onely ment.

This glorious Bride, in loue of earth his spouse From his Starchambered pallace of the sky, Drawne on by mornings wings, betimes doth rouse Through either Hemi-sphere, and passing by Th'Antipodes, from East to East doth fly, With euery step Horizons making new, Wherewith the earth new bewties doth indew.

6.

The wind go∣eth toward the South, and cō∣passeth toward the North: the wind goeth round about, and returneth by his circuit.

This pure sweete aire wherein things breathing liue, Th'all filling essence of vacuitie, He vnto life the very spright doth giue, And neuer rests, his presence to applie To our behoofe: who languishing would lie, If long he should retire his flagrant breath, Whose vse (from vs restraind) doth menace death.

He being speedie guide to motions all, In tender care and neighbour loue he owes Vnto those lower regions, forth doth call From hils and dales exhaled breaths, whence growes As many winds as on earths compasse blowes, Which cleansing clouds, and drying dampish soile, Do whistling through earths hollow vaults recoile.

[verse 7] Fresh waters from the sea thence flowes, their ebs yet fill not it. [verse 8] All is but toyle man sees or heares, with his insatiat wit.

7.

〈…〉〈…〉

The liquid streames, of waters which arise, Fro out the Cesterne of the Centors deepe, Whose winding channels in a wondrous wise, Through hils and dales, in curbed wise do creepe, A constant progresse do by nature keepe, Till they the Ocean (their deere mother) meet, Whose brackish tears for thē, their drops make sweet.

Whose fruitfull wombe, in gratefull wise repaies The yeelding earth, the tribute of her loue, By sending strayned springs through forced waies, And Porus passages for mans behoue, That so her selfe in bounds might mildly moue: Who yeelds likewise to beare earths heauy brood, And breeds her selfe some store of humaine food.

8.

All things are full of labour: man can not vtter it, the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the eare filled with hearing.

And not these compound elements alone Are subiect to this intercourse of change, But euen the foure pure elements ech one Doe from themselues, to th'others natures range, Though contrary by kind, with motion strange: Earth into water turnes, moist into aire, Pure aire to fire, Condenst they backe repaire.

So all things labour euermore and tend Vnto their end, which when they once attaine, That forme doth chaunge and to another bend, Which likewise in his time hath end againe, And nothing in one state doth long remaine; Whose wondrous frame, in vaine man seekes to find, Whilst no mans studie can suffise his mind.

[verse 9] What euer hath bene, shall be done: for there is nothing new: [verse 10] What may we say is now, the which was not before thinke you?

9.

What is it that hath bene? that that shall be: and what is it that hath bene done? that which shall be done: and there is no new thing vnder the Sun.

For proofe, let me demaund but this of you, Who most haue searched natures secret powre? And you who are conuerst in stories true, And you obseruers of ech day and howre, Haue ye not found, that time doth all deuour? And that new times the like things doth produce, As any former ages had in vse.

We dreame of secrets daily, newly found, And of inuentions passing former wits, We thinke our world with wisedome doth abound, And fame (for knowledge) vs much rather fits, But ouer-weening thoughts this toy begits: Their longer liues more temperately led In holy studie, sure more knowledge bred.

10.

Is there any thing whereof one may say, behold this, it is new: it hath bene already in the old time that was be∣fore vs.

What one thing can we say is new indeed, Excepting time it selfe, which still renewes? New sinnes perhaps this wicked age would breed, Yet can not other then first age did vse: The name of new indeede we do abuse, By calling new the thing we newly know, Which rather ignorance of skill doth show.

Those elder times (no doubt) in golden age, When natures strength was in her youthfull prime, When Will on Wisedome tended as a Page, And loue of vertue, banisht many a crime, When humble thoughts did not for glory clime: Then all things flourisht sure that now we see, And actions all, that are, or that may bee.

[verse 11] Things past forgotten are we see, and future so shalbee. [verse 12] In Ierusalem, Israels king I was, who teacheth thee.

11.

There is no me¦morie of the former, neither shall there be a remembrance of the latter that shall be, with them that shal come after

But they forgotten are, as ours once shall, Mans few and euill dayes with cares of mind, Make many worthy things to dust to fall, And vs to predecessors grow vnkind, Whose fames with theirs shall vanish with the wind, And as our stealing wits would clips their fame, Deuouring time, shall desolate our name.

For what more equall recompence is due, To such as others merits doe depraue, Then that like base contempt, do them insue, And of successors they like guerdon haue, And so we see fame leaues vs at the graue: Build then his happinesse on earth who will, He but himselfe with care and scorne shall fill.

12.

I the Preacher haue bene king ouer Israell in Ierusalem.

By proofe I speake, who once a mighty King Did sway the Scepter of the holy seed, Whose blessed name of peace, true peace did bring, And publike wealth, which happinesse did breed, And all delights whereon the world doth feed: From Dan to Bersaba there, bound before, And from Euphrates vnto Nylus shore.

My seat in Centor of earths Paradice, In blest Ierusalem Gods dwelling place, Neare to whereas mount Sion doth arise, The holy hill, which doth the countrey grace, Wherein I ruled not a litle space: For fortie yeares, I raigned still in peace, And in a ripened age I did decease.

[verse 13] I gaue my heart (God gaue this care) true wisedome out to find, [verse 14] My studie found all vnder sunne, to be but griefe of mind.

13.

And I haue gi∣uen mine heart to search and find out wise∣dome by all things that are done vnder the heauen, this sore trauell hath God giue to the sonnes of men to humble them thereby.

And all this time I bent my power and will, To find faire wisedomes pallace, that I there My homage due, might pay vnto her still, And trophes to her in my heart might reare, Her loue made me all other loue forbeare: Welth I and honour, health, and euery thing Disdaind, that did not me true wisedome bring.

I therefore first did God most humbly craue, To guide my steps in such a holy care, Who (thenceforth) thereof such a measure gaue, As none for wisedome might with me compare: To proue all things I did my heart prepare, Insatiat still as man by nature is, Of skill (so doomd) for Adams first amis.

14.

I haue conside∣red all the works that are done vnder the sunne, and be∣hold all is vani∣tie & vexation of the Spirit.

What euer nature of her selfe brings forth, Or skilfull Art by practise could produce, What euer did to any seeme of worth, Or for necessitie might seeme of vse, Was still the obiect of my studious Muse, Which out of all to gather did desire, That happinesse whereto we would aspire.

But for my paines on earth did nought attaine, But losse of time and agony of Spright, A vaine desire, replete with skill more vaine, A carefull life, disguisd with vaine delight, A puft vp braine, with dreames of wisedomes sight, But to my heart vnfruitfull of content, To wearied life, a lode of time mispent.

[verse 15] The crooked thing can none make straight, or nūber things amis. [verse 16] I thought and said, in power or wit, none like me was or is.

15.

That which is crooked, can none make straight: and that which fai∣le•••• can not be numbred.

For when I sought to practise what I knew, My mind distracted diuersly was led, In looking to preuent things to insew: Much care in vaine I tooke, no fruit it bred, To know the worlds amis, serues to small sted; When no man can make straight the crooked tree, Or mend the chance that is ordaind to bee.

To number forth mans miseries and woe Is hard to doe, and litle would auaile: To stay the Oceans course, he should but goe, That would support, where nature meanes to faile: It makes vs but our weaknesse more bewaile, If any way our wisedome stood in sted, It would suppresse the vices in vs bred.

16.

I thought in mine heart, and said, Behold I am become great, and ex∣cell in wisedom all them that haue bene be∣fore me in le∣rusalem: and mine hart hath seene much wisedome and knowledge

And though (alas) I might of all men best, For wisedome be reputed mongst the great, Whose knowledge farre surpassed all the rest, Before me euer were in Israels seate, Or any others whom Records repeat: Yea then was Chalcoll, Darda, or Ethan, Heman, Maholl, or any liuing man.

Yet I for all my knowledge must confesse, That childish blindnesse raigneth ouer all, The more I knew, I thought I knew the lesse, My knowledge, ignorance I seem'd to call, When to the skanning of it I did fall: As farre to weake true wisedome to behold, As man vnfit, Gods secrets to vnfold.

[verse 17] I studied all both good and bad to know, in all I found [verse 18] Much grief, & as much wisedom grew, new cares & woes aboūd.

17.

And I gaue 〈◊〉〈◊〉 heart to knowe wisedome and knowledge, madnesse and foolishnesse: I knew also, that this is a vexatiō of the spirit.

And that I might the better others iudge, I bent my selfe to euery students vaine, To reade each friuolous worke I did not grudge, As well as writers of more pregnant braine: The rules of obseruations I did gaine, Which long experience maketh many see, And to the vulgar sort instructions bee.

I put in practise what these arts did teach, And tasted euerie toy for my delight. Fond actions made in modest mind a breach: For will with reason I did arme to fight; Yet all in fine did but torment my spright. In wisdoms graue restraint my boūds seeme straight, On follie, shame, and sorow to awaight.

18.

For in the mul∣titude of wise∣dome is much griefe: and he that increaseth knowledge, in∣creaseth griefe.

So wisedome proues a style of small auaile, Which cannot yeeld a man one happie day, His infant studies seruile feares do quaile, His youthfull yeares with wantonnesse decay, His manly thoughts worlds combers weare away: His yeares of iudgement for true wisedome fit, Deuoyd of powre, through weakned limbs do sit.

And yet suppose some one in ripened time, In bodie and in mind haue some delight, Yet he shall find, when he doth seeme in prime, A world of woes to march before his sight, Which past or presently shall with him fight: Which if he scape, yet many thousands beare, Whereof whilst yet he liues, he stands in feare.