Emblemes by Francis Quarles.

V.

[illustration]

JOB 10. 9.

Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay, and wilt thou bring me to dust again?

THus from the bosome of the new-made earth Poore man was delv'd, and had his unborn birth; The same the stuffe the self-same hand doth trim The plant that fades, the beast that dies, and him: One was their sire, one was their common mother, Plants are his sisters, and the beast his brother, The elder too; beasts draw the self-same breath, Wax old alike, and die the self-same death: Plants grow as he, with fairer robes arraid; Alike they slourish, and alike they •…•…ade: The beast in sense exceeds him and in growth, The three-ag'd oake doth thrice exceed them both: Why look'st thou then so big, thou little span Of earth? What art thou more in being man? I, but my great Creatour did inspire My chosen earth with that diviner fire Of reason; gave me judgement and a will; That to know good; this to chuse good from ill: He put the rains of pow'r in my free hand, And jurisdiction over sea and land: He gave me art to lengthen out my span Of life, and made me all, in being man:

I, but thy passion has committed treason Against the sacred person of thy reason: Thy judgement is co•…•…rupt, perverse thy will; That knows no good, and this makes choice of •…•…ll: The greater height sends down the deeper fall; And good d•…•…clin'd turns bad, turns worst of all. Say then, proud inch of living •…•…arth, what can Thy greatnesse claim the more in being man? O but my soul transcends the pitch of nature, Born up by th' Image of her high Creatour; Outbraves the life of reason, and beats down Her waxen wings, kicks off her brazen crown. My earth's a living Temple t' entertein The King of Glory, and his glorious train: How can I mend my title then? where can Ambition sind a higher style then man? Ah, but that Image is defac'd and soil'd; Her Temple's raz'd, her Altars all desil'd; Her vessels are polluted and distain'd With lothed lust, her ornaments prophan'd; Her oyl-forsaken lamps, and hallow'd tapours Put out; her incense breaths unsav'ry vapours: Why swell'st thou then so gi•…•… thou little span Of earth? what art thou more in being man? Ete•…•…nall Potter, whose blest hands did lay My course soundation from a sod of clay, Thou know'st my slender vess•…•…l's apt to leak; Thou know'st my brittle temper's prone to break; Are my bones brazzil, or my slesh of oake? O, mend what thou hast made, what I have broke: Look, look with gentle eyes, and in thy day Of vengeance, Lord, remember I am clay.

S. AUGUST, S•…•…liloq, 32.

Shall I ask, who made me? It was thou that madest me, without whom nothing was made: Thou art my maker, and I thy work. I thank thee, my Lord God, by whom I live, and by whom all things su•…•…sist, because thou madest me: I thank th•…•…, O my Potter, because thy hands have made me, because thy hands have formed me.

EPIO. 5.

Why swell'st thou, man, pust up with fame and purse? Th'art better earth, but born to dig the worse: Thou cam'st from ea•…•…th, to earth thou must return, And art but earth cast from the womb to th' urn.