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Nor do I beg this slender inch, to wile
Quarles' Emblems, B. III. Emb. xiii.
O THAT THOU WOULDST HIDE ME IN THE GRAVE,
THAT THOU WOULDST KEEP ME IN SECRET UNTIL THY WRATH BE PAST.
Ah! whither shall I fly? what path untrod
Where shall I sojourn? what kind sea will hide
What if my feet should take their hasty flight,
What if my soul should take the wings of day,
What if some solid rock should entertain
Nor sea, nor shade, nor shield, nor rock, nor cave,
"Tis vain to flee; 'till gentle Mercy show
Th' ingenuous child, corrected, doth not fly
mother's hand, but clings more nigh, And quenches with his tears her flaming eye.
Great God! there is no safety here below;
ALL THINGS ARE VAIN.
Although the purple morning, brags in brightness of the
As though he had of chased night, a glorious conquest won: The time by day, gives place again to force of drowsy night, And every creature is constrain’d to change his lusty plight.
flame-ey'd Fury.] An epithet highly original and fine. Shakspeare uses fire-ey'd Fury in his Romeo and Juliet.
+ For further observations, see Jackson's Letters, Vol. II. Let. XXX. where both these particular pieces of Quarles were first more immedkately brought forward to the public eye.
Of pleasure all that here we taste;
In spring, though pleasant Zephyrus hath fruitful earth in
spired, And nature hath each bush, each branch, with blossoms
brave attired : Yet fruits and flowers, as buds and blooms, full quickly
By time are got, by time are lost,
Although the seas so calmly glide, as dangers none appear, And doubt of storms, in sky is none, king Phoebus shines so
clear: Yet when the boist'rous winds break out, and raging waves
do swell, The seely bark now heaves to heaven, now sinks again to hell,
Thus change in ev'ry thing we see,
Who floweth most in worldly wealth, of wealth is most unsure, And he that chiefly tastes of joy, doth sometime woe endure: Who vaunteth most of numb'red friends, forego them all he
must, The fairest flesh and liveliest blood, is turn’d at length to dust.
Experience gives a certain ground,
Then trust to that which aye remains, the bliss of heavens
above, Which Time, nor Fate, nor Wind, nor Storm, is able to re
Trust to that sure celestial rock, that rests in glorious throne,
The world is but a vanity,
The Paradise of Dainty Devises,
Fol. 18, 44, signed F. K*.
While that my soul repairs to her devotion,
My body to the school, that it may learn
To sever the good fellowship of dust,
* Probably written by Francis Kinwelmershe, a contributor to the collection in which they appear, and a student of Gray's Inn. He assisted Gascoigne in his tragedy of Jocasta.
When they shall bow, and kneel, and fall down flat
And wanton in thy cravings, thou may'st know
The Temple, by G. Herbert;
p. 56, Edit. 1709.
AGAINST FOREIGN LUXURY.
now, ye British swains (whose harmless sheep