Solomons recantation, entitvled Ecclesiastes paraphrased with a soliloquie or meditation upon every chapter : very seasonable and useful for these times / by Francis Quarles ; with a short relation of his life and death.

CAP. XII.

1 The Creatour is to be remembred in due time. 8 The Preachers care to edifie. 13 The fear of God is the chief Antidote of vanity.

REmember thy Creator in thy prime Of present youth, before the black-mouth'd time

Of sullen age approach; before the day Thy dying pleasures find a dull decay;

2.

Before the Sun, and Moon, and Stars appear Dark in thy Microcosmall Hemisphear;

3.

Before the Clouds of sorrows multitiply, And hide the Chrystall of the gloomy sky; Before the Keepers of thy crazy Tow'r Be palsie-striken, and thy men of pow'r Sink as they march, and grinders cease to grind Distastfull bread, and windows are grown blind.

4.

Then shall the Castles two-leafd gates be barr'd When as the Milstones language is not heard; The horn-mouth Belman shal affright thy slūbers, Thy untun'd ear shall loath harmonious numbers:

5.

Each obvious mole-hill shall encrease thy fears, And carefull snow shall blanch thy falling hairs; A fly shall load thy shoulders: Thy desire And all thy bed-rid passions shall expire. Pale death's at hand, and mourners come to meet Thy tear-bedabled fun'rals in the street.

6.

Then shall the sinews silver cord be los'd, Thy brains gold bowle be broke: The undispos'd And idle liver's fountain dri'd; The blouds Meandring Cisterns unsuppli'd.

7.

Then shall the dust her dust to dust deliver, Whose spirit shall return to God the Giver.

8.

Whereto th' Ecclesiastick thus replies, All, all is vain, and vainest vanities.

9.

Because his true repentant soul was wise, He read this wisdome-lecture, did advise And search the Fountain, whence he did convay The fruitfull streams in a Proverbiall way.

10.

He sought and found such words, which had the might To entermingle profit with delight;

And what his spirit-prompted pen did write Was truth it self, and most exact upright.

11.

The wise mans words are like to Goads, that doe Stir up the drowzy, and spur up the slow: And like to nailes to be made fast and driv'n By hands to th' hearts of men sent down from hea∣v'n.

12.

Make use, my Son, of what this hand hath penn'd, There is no end of Pamphlets to no end; These tire the flesh, and after age is spent, They breathe some knowledg, but no true content.

13.

Mark then the ground where the main building stands, Fear thou thy God, Observe his just commands. Within the limits of this sacred Ground Mans duty lies; true Happinesse is found:

14.

No work shall passe untri'd: No hand hath done What shal not plead at heav'ns Tribunall Throne: All secrets good and bad attend his Eye; His Eyes behold where day could never prye.

Deus his quoque finem.

SOLILOQUIE XII.

NOw launch, my soul, into this Sea of Tears; Fear storms and Rocks, yet smile upon thy fears; Weigh Anchor; Hoist thy weather-beaten Sailes; The Tides run smooth; The wind breaths prosp'rous Gales. Tridented Neptune now hath struck a peace With full-mouth'd Aeolus, and the wars surcease: They sound a parley, and begin to treat, And Sea-green Triton sounds a shrill Retreat.

March now, my soul, through Hadadrimmons Vale Without a tear; or if thou must bewaile, Mourn for vain Earth, and drop in alms one tear For him that findes no happinesse but there. Now mayst thou trample on the Asp, and tread On the young Lyon, and th' old Dragons head; Wisdome shall guide thee, Love shall circumclose thee, That fraud shall not beguile, or force oppose thee. Thy Prince shall honor thee, thy Peers embrace thee; No Crime shall shame thee, & no tongue disgrace thee; The rich shall rev'rence thee, the poor shall blesse thee; Wrath shall not over-rule, nor pride oppresse thee; Thy want shall not afflict, nor wealth betray thee, This shall not puffe thee up, nor chat dismay thee: Pleasure shall not ensnare, nor pains torment thee, This shall not make thee sad, nor that repent thee. Blest shall thy labours be, and sweet thy Rest; Blest shall thy thoughts be, and thy Actions blest; Blest in thy peace, and blest in thy promotion; Blest in thy sports, and blest in thy devotion; Blest in thy losses, blest in thy encreases; Blest in thy health, and blest in thy diseases; Blest in thy Knowledge, blest in thy Corrections; Blest in thy Soul, and blest in thy Affections. O then, my soul, let thy Affections flow In streams of love to Him that lov'd thee so; Let not His high-priz'd benefits depart From thy remembrance, grave them in thy heart With Tools of Adamant, that they may last To after-times, that when thy days be past, Thy well-instructed children may emblaze Thy Makers goodnesse to the last of days. Blesse thou the Lord, my soul; Let thy whole frame, And all within thee magnifie that name

That blest thee so; Blesse thou the Lord, my soul, Report his precious favours, and enroll His numerous mercies in thy gratefull brest: Remember thy Creator; O protest His praises to the world, and let thy tongue Make him the subject of thy youthfull song; Give him the firstlings of thy strength, even than When fading Childehood seeks to ripen man Upon the downy cheeks; when vigour trains The sparkling blood through thy Meandring veins; Before thy flowing marrow shall foment Thy lust full fires; before the false content Of frothy pleasures shall begin t'invite Thy fond Affections to a vain delight. Then, then, my soul, whilst thy supplies are fresh And strong, wage war with thy rebellious flesh; Gird up thy loyns, and march, spare neither sweat Nor bloud, take courage, strike, subdue, defeat: Sing a triumphant song, sing Io Paean; Adorn thy brows with Palm, and again sing Io Paean. Take time while time shall serve; 'tis thine to day, But secret danger still attends delay. Doe while thou mayst; To day has eagle wings, And who can tell what change to morrow brings? Advantage wasts, and strength of body wears, Life has no lease; and Youth, no Tearm for years: When creeping Age shall quench thy sprightly fires, And breathe cold Winter on thy chill desires, What fire shall burn thy Offerings? O what praise Can issue forth from cold decrepit dayes? When ebbing bloods neap-tides shall strike thy lims With trembling Palsies; When dry Age bedims The optick sunshine of thy bed-rid days, What boots thy cold, thy Paralytick praise?

When secret Ulcers shall attaint thy breath With fumes more noysome then the sinks of death, What pleasure shall thy great Creator raise From thy breath tainted, and unsav'ry praise? Come then, my soul, Rouze up thy dull desire, And quicken thy faint coals of sacred fire, That lie rak'd up in th' Embers of thy flesh; Fetch breath from heaven, & with that breath refresh Thy glim'ring sharks: Brook not the least delay, Embers grow cold, and sparks will soon decay.

THE END.

Notes

• Vers. 6
• Vers. 3
• Vers. 2