Schola cordis, or, The heart of it selfe, gone away from God brought back againe to him & instructed by him in 47 emblems.
Harvey, Christopher, 1597-1663., Haeften, Benedictus van, 1588-1648. Schola cordis., Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644.
ODE 3.
1.
Tarry, O tarry, lest thine heedlesse hast
Hurry thee headlong unto hell at last:
See, see, thine heart's already half-way there,
Those gloomy shadowes, that encompasse it,
Are the vast confines of th'infernall pit.
O stay, and if thou lov'st not light, yet feare
That fatall darknesse, where
Such danger doth appeare.
2.
A night of ignorance hath overspread
Thy mind and understanding: thou art led
Blindfolded by unbridled passion:
Thou wand rest in the crooked wayes of errour,
Leading directly to the King of terrour:
The course thou takest, if thou holdest on,
Will bury thee anon
In deep destruction.
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Whilst thou art thus deprived of thy •…ight,
Thou know'st no difference between noone and night,
Though the Sun shine, yet thou regard'st it not.
My love-alluring beauty cannot draw thee,
Nor doth my mind-amating terrour awe thee:
Like one that had both good and ill forgot,
Thou carest not a jot
What falleth to thy lot.
4.
Thou art become unto thy selfe a stranger,
Observest not thine own desert, or danger,
Thou know'st not what thou dost, nor canst thou tel
Whither thou goest: shooting in the darke
How canst thou ever hope to hit the marke?
What expectation hast thou to doe well,
That art content to dwell
Within the verge of hell?
5.
Alas, thou hast not so much knowledge left,
As to consider that thou art bereft
Of thine owne eye-sight. But thou runn'st, as though
Thou sawest all before thee: whilst thy minde
To neerest necessary things is blind.
Thou knowest nothing as thou ought'st to know,
Whilst thou esteemest so
The things that are below.
6.
Would ever any, that had eyes, mistake
As thou art wont to doe: no difference make
Betwixt the way to heaven and to hell?
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But, desperatly devoted to destruction,
Rebell against the light, abhorre instruction?
As though thou did'st desire with death to dwell,
Thou hatest to heare tell
How yet thou maist doe well.
7.
Oh that thou didst but see how blind thou art,
And seel the dismall darkenesse of thine heart:
Then would'st thou labour for, and I would lend
My light to guide thee: that's not light alone,
But life, eyes, sight, grace, glory, all in one.
Then should'st thou know whither those by wayes bend,
And that death in the end
On darkenesse doth attend.
