Schola cordis, or, The heart of it selfe, gone away from God brought back againe to him & instructed by him in 47 emblems.

The watching of the Heart.

CANT. 5.2.

I sleep, but my heart waketh.

Epigr. 32.

WHilst the soft hands of sleep tie up my sences, My watchfull heart, free from all such •…•…, Searches for thee, enquires es all about thee, Nor day, nor night, able to be without thee.

ODE. 32.

1.

It must be so: that God that gave Me senses, and a mind, would have Me use them both, but in their severall kinds. Sleep must refresh my senses, but my minds A •…•… of heav'nly fire, that seeds On •…•…, and employment, needs No •…•… or rest: for, when it thinks to please •…•… with idlenesse, 'tis least at ease. Though quiet rest refresh the head, The heart that stirres not sure is dead.

2.

Whilst then my body ease doth take, My •…•… refusing heart •…•… all wake: And that mine heart the better watch may keep, I'll lay my senses for a t•…•…e to sleep. Wanton de re shall not •…•…, Nor lust enveigle them to vi•…•…e: No sading colours shall •…•… my fight,

Nor sounds enchant mine eares with their delight: I'll bind my smell, my touch, my tast, To keep a strict religious fast.

3.

My worldly businesse shall lie still, That heav'nly thoughts my mind may fill: My Marthaes cumb'ring cares shall cease their noise, That Mary may attend her better choise. That meditation may advance Mine heart on purpose, not by chance, My body shall keep holy day, that so My mind with better liberty may goe About her bus'nesse, and ingrosse That gaine, which worldly men count losse.

4.

And though my senses sleep the while, My mind my senses shall beguile With dreames of thee, dear Lord, whose rare perfections Of excellence are such, that bare inspections Cannot suffice my greedy soule, Nor her fierce appetite controule, Bur that the more she lookes the more she longs, And strives to thrust into the thickest throngs Of those divine discoveries, Which dazell even Angels eyes.

5.

Oh could I lay aside this flesh, And follow after thee with fresh And free desires, my disentangled soule, Ravisht with admiration, should roule It self, and all its thoughts on thee, And by beleeving strive to see, What is invisible to flesh and blood, And only by fruition understood,

The beauty of each sev'rall grace, That shines in thy Sunne-shaming face.

6.

But what I can doe that I will, Waking and sleeping, seek thee still: I'll leave no place unpri'd into behind me, Where I can but imagine I may find thee: I'll aske of all I meet, if they Can tell thee where thou art, which way Thou go'st, that I may follow after thee, Which way thou com'st, that thou mai'st meet with me. If not thy face, Lord, let mine heart Behold with Moses thy back part.