Heavenly pastime, or, Pleasant observations on all the most remarkable passages throughout the Holy Bible of the Old and New Testament newly allegoriz'd in several delightful dialogues, poems, similitudes, and divine fancies / by John Dunton, author of The sickmans passing-bell.

Ecclesiastes 3.1

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the Hea∣ven.

Time. Death.

1.

Time. Behold the frailty of this slender snuff, Alas, it hath ••ot long to last: Without the h••lp of either ••hief or puff▪ Her weakness knows the way to wast. Nature hath made her substance apt enough To spend it self, and spend to fast: It needs the help of none That is to prone, To lavish our untuch'd, and languish all alone.

2.

Death. Time, hold thy peace, and shake thy slow pace Sand, Thy idle Minutes make no way, Thy Glass exceeds her hour, or else doth stand, I cannot hold, I cannot stay. Surcease thy Pleading, and enlarge my hand, I surfeit with too long delay. This brisk, this bold fac'd light Doth burn too bright; Darkness adorns my Throne, my day is dark as night.

3.

Time. Great Prince of darkness, hold thy needless hand, Thy Captiv's fast and cannot flie: ••hat Arm can rescue? who can countermand? What pow'r can set thy Pris'ner free? 〈◊〉〈◊〉 if they could, what Close, what Forreign Land Can hide the Head that flees from thee?

But if her harmless light Offend thy sight, What need'st thou snatch at Noon, what will be thine at Night.

4.

Death. I have not stay'd my patience, my quick trade Grows dull and makes too slow return: This long-liv'd dept is due, and should been paid, When first her flame began to burn: But I have stay'd too long, I have delay'd To store my sast, my ••raving urn. My p••tent give•• me power Each day, each hour, To strike the pleasant Thatch, and shake the princely Tow'r.

5.

Time. Thou count'st too fast: t••y patient gives no power, Till Time shall please to say, Amen. Death. 〈◊〉〈◊〉 thou appoint my sha••t? Time. Or thou my hour? Death. 'Tis I ••id, do. Time. 'Tis I bid, when: Alas thou can'st not make the poor••st flower! To h••ng t••e drooping head till then: Thy shafts can neither kill, Nor strike, untill My power give them Wings, and pleasure Arm thy will.

Epigr••m.

Expect, but fear not Death: Death cannot kill Till Time, (that first must Seal her pati••nt Will) Would'st thou live long? keep time in high ••steem, Whom gone, if ••hou ca••st not recall, redeem.