Emblemes by Fra: Quarles

His light shall be dark, and his candle shall be put out. IOB 18.6.

What ayles our Tapour? Is her luster fled, Or foyl'd? What dire disaster bred This Change? that thus she vailes her golden head?

2

It was but very now, she shin'd as faire As Venus starre: Her glory might compare With Cynthia, burnisht with her brothers haire.

3

There was no Cave-begotten damp that mought Abuse her beames; no wind, that went about To breake her peace; no Puffe, to put her out.

4

Lift up thy wondring thoughts, and thou shalt spye A Cause, will cleare thy doubts, but cloud thine eye: Subiects must vaile, when as their Sov'raign's by.

5

Canst thou behold bright Phoebus, and thy sight No whit impayr'd? The object is too bright; The weaker yeelds unto the stronger Light.

6

Great God, I am thy Tapour; Thou my Sunne; From thee the Spring of Light, my Light begun, Yet if thy Light but shine, my light is done.

7

If thou withdraw thy Light, my light will shine, If thine appeare, how poore a light is mine! My light is darknesse, if compar'd to thine.

8

Thy Sun beames are too strong for my weake eye; If thou but shine, how nothing, Lord, am I! Ah, who can see thy visage, and not die!

9

If intervening earth should make a night, My wanton flame would then shine forth too bright; My earth would ev'n presume t'eclipse thy Light.

10

And if thy Light be shadow'd, and mine fade, If thine be dark, and my dark light decayd, I should be cloathed with a double shade.

11

What shall I doe? O what shall I desire? What help can my distracted thoughts require, That thus am wasting twixt a double Fire?

12

In what a streight, in what a streight am I? Twixt two extreames how my rackt fortunes lie? See I thy face, or see it not, I die.

13

O let the steame of my Redeemers blood, That breaths fro'my sick soule, be made a Cloud, T'inter pose these Lights, and be my shroud.

14

Lord, what am I? or what's the light I have? May it but light my Ashes to their Grave, And so from thence, to Thee? 'tis all I crave.

15

O make my Light, that all the world may see Thy Glory by't: If not, It seemes to me Honour enough, to be put out by Thee.

O Light inaccessible, in respect of which my light is utter dark∣nes; so reflect upon my weaknes, that all the world may behold thy strength. O Majesty incomprehensible, in respect of which my glory is meere shame: so shine upon my misery that all the world may be∣hold thy glory.

EPIG. 7.

Wilt thou complaine, because thou art bereav'n Of all thy light? Wilt thou vie Lights with Heav'n? Can thy bright eye not brooke the daily light? Take heed: I feare, thou art a Child of night.