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. IV. (Book 4)

1. Vanity is increased unto men by oppression, 4. By en∣vy, 5. By idlenesse, 7. By covetousnesse, 9. By soli∣tarinesse, 13. By wilfullnesse.

1.

MY soul return'd and fixt her thoughts upon The hard oppressions made beneath the Sun; And, loe. the tears of captives in distresse, Cry'd loud for Comfort, yet were comfortlesse; Great was th' oppressors power, yet the grief Of the opprest was void of all relief:

2.

O, then I counted their condition blest, Whom death hath lulld in everlasting rest; Yea, farre more blest then those that live, to stand Afflicted patients at th' oppressors hand.

3.

Nay, farre then both are they more blessed, whom Conception never hansell'd in the womb; Or those Abortives, whom untimely birth Excus'd from all the sorrowes of the earth.

4.

I mus'd again, and found when pains had crakt The harder shell to some Heroick act, Pale envy stricks the kernell with taxation; O, this is vanity, and souls vexation.

5.

The sluggish fool that solitary stands, With yauning lips, and bosome-folded hands, Consumes his empty dayes, at last, is fed With his own flesh, that would not move for bread:

6.

His idle tongue thus pleading for his sloth, Better one hand be fill'd with rest, then both Stretch'd forth in travell, to prepare full diet, With hearts vexation, and the souls disquiet.

7.

Thus pausing Contemplation shew'd mine eye A new prospect of humane vanity;

8.

There is a lonely man that hath none other To foster then himselfe, nor child nor brother, Whose droyling hands think nothing can supply The greedy wants of his insatiate eye; He robs himselfe, nor knows for whose relife; This is a vanity and wounding grief.

9.

The single state of him that lives alone Is double grief; Two better is then One: For two can share the sorrows that befall To one; One's worse then not to be at all;

10.

If eithers drooping shoulders be betray'd To a sad burden, theres a mutuall ayd:

Woe to the man whom danger meets alone, For ther's no arme to help him but his owne:

11.

When two divide the comforts of a Bed, If one gains kindly warmth, the others sped: But warmth turns back to him that lies alone; The steel will yeeld no sparks without the stone.

12.

If fury from a stronger arme assailes, One falls before the foe when two prevails: But if a third put in a timely stroke, The Cord that's threefold, is not quickly broke.

13.

To be a poore wise child, is jud'gd a thing More honourable then to be a King That's old and foolish, and whose disposition Checks at advice, and spurns at admonition.

14.

The low and lanke estates are often known To clime from Prisons, to the princely Throne; And glorious Monarchs have been seen to fail, And change their glittering Glory for a Goal.

15.

So have I seen the vulgar hearts grow cold To with'ring Greatnesse, whilest their eyes behold The blooming heyre, to whom affections run Like morning eyes to greet the rising Sun.

16.

Past Ages quench the fathers fading light In the Sons hopes, and future dayes benight The Son in his Succeeders expectation; O, this is vanity and souls vexation.

SOLILOQUIE IV.

MY soul, to what a strange disguised Good Art thou bewitcht! O how hath flesh and Blood Betray'd thee to a happinesse that brings No comfort but from transitory things!

How is thy freedome curb'd! How art thou clogg'd With dull mortality, bestow'd and bogg'd In thine own frailty! How art thou repos'd In sin. polluted dust! embrac'd, enclos'd In the foul armes of thy owne base Corruptions! How is thy will disturb'd with th' inturruptions Of crosse desires? desires, not knowing where To finde a Center, rambling here and there; Which, like their objects, alterable, rome Like idle vagrants without passe, or home. Review thy selfe my soul; Cast up thy dayes, They are but few; Thy life is but a blaze: Go take an inventory of those Ioyes Which thy false earth allowes: I hey are but toyes, To mock the frailty of thy flatter'd Sense, Attended with a thousand discontents: Hath Heaven inricht thy pains with thriving drift's Of mighty Gold? endow'd thy minde with gifts Of sacred Art? Or glorifi'd thy name With honour posted on the wings of Fame? What is there then, that lies in earths election To raise thy hap'nesse to more higb perfection? I, but my soule, what great, what higher hand Shall stop the mouth of Envy? Or command* 1.1 Her snake devouring fangs to keep the peace Vpon thy worried Name? To every Lease Of earths best granted happinesse, belongs The sharp Proviso of malicious tongues: They, they shall blast thy fortunes; leave a tang Vpon thy new broch'd Honour: They shall hang Like Burres, upon thy welfare, and destroy, Like th' Easternworm, the gourd of all thy joy. Or if thou chance to scape the whispering tongue Of secret Envie, Force, and bold-fac'd Wrong,* 1.2

May hap to roare upon thy full mouth'd Sails, And rude Opression with her Harpy nails, may gripe thy fair Prosperity, and great Vpon the vastnesse of thy great estate. Or if those foraign dangers should forbeare To make; assault, or made, prove lesse severe; From out thy very bosome may arise Intestine Foes, to make thy peace, their prize: If that Dull worme, that cloaths the mossy land* 1.3 Withrags, but kissethy bosome-folded hand, It eats thy treasure with a secret rust, And layes thy bed-rid houour in the dust. Or if thy droiling hand should once beslave* 1.4 Thy glorious freedome with a thirst to have, And take thee prisner to thy loose desirets, Thy happinesse, even whilst enjoy'd, expires. Or if a liberall Content should crown Thy Gould with Rest, and make thine own, thine own; Perchance, thou want'st a Partner, that may share* 1.5 In all thy fortunes: or (if sped) an heire, Whose worth, and hopefull merrits may revive Thy houor'd Dust, and keep thy name alive. Or if the pleased hand of heaven subscribe To those desires, a selfe-conceit may bribe Thy passion guided Will to take up Arms* 1.6 'Gainst soveraign Reason, at whose bold Alarm's Thy false affections may riseup, and shake Thy fancy-baffled Judgement, and so make A Gap for mischief, which may reccommend Thy reeling Fortunes to aruinous End Now tell me, O my soul! wherein can earth Deserve thy pains, or gratifie thy birth, In framing equall happinesse; nay, in freeing Thy partiall heart from unrepented Beeing?

O, is't not better, not to thirst at all, Then thirst in vain, or quench thy thirst with gall? Are not the Cloysters of the Barren Wombe,* 1.7 Far more desiderable, then to come Into the wilde, into the common Hall Of troubled Natures factious Court, where all Move in their Orbs of Care, and severall wayes, Fulfill their Revolutions of sad dayes? Are not the shady Bowers of death more sweet* 1.8 Then the bold Sunshine, where we hourely meet Fresh ev'lls, like Atomes, whose deluding breath Tickles our fancies till we laugh to death? Our day of birth leads in our dayes of Trouble; My soul prize not this earth; this Toy; this Bubble.

Notes

• * 1.1

  Vers. 4
• * 1.2

  Vers. 1
• * 1.3

  Vers. 5
• * 1.4

  Vers. 8
• * 1.5

  Vers. 9
• * 1.6

  Vers. 13
• * 1.7

  Vers. 2
• * 1.8

  Vers. 3