Read on this dial, how the shades devour

My short-liv'd winter's day; hour eats up
Alas! the total's but from eight to four.

hour ;

Behold these lilies (which thy hands have made
Fair copies of my life, and open laid

To view,) how soon they droop, how soon they fade !

Shade not that dial night will blind too soon ;
My non-ag'd day already points to noon;
How simple is my suit, how small my boon!

Nor do I beg this slender inch, to while
The time away, or safely to beguile

My thoughts with joy; here's nothing worth a smile.

No, no 'tis not to please my wanton ears
With frantic mirth, I beg but hours, not years :
And what thou giv'st me, I will give to tears.

Draw not that soul which would be rather led :
That seed has not yet broke my serpent's head;
O shall I die before my sins are dead?

Behold these rags; am I a fitting guest
To taste the dainties of thy royal feast,
With hands and face unwash'd, ungirt, unblest?

First let the Jordan streams, that find supplies
From the deep fountain of my heart arise
And cleanse my spots, and clear my lep'rous eyes.

I have a world of sins to be lamented;

I have a sea of tears that must be vented :
O spare till then; and then I die contented.

S. AU

S. AUGUST. Lib. de Civit. Dei, Cap. x. The time wherein we live, is taken from the space of our life; and what remaineth, is daily made less, insomuch that the time of our life is nothing but a passage to death.

S. GREG. Lib. ix. Cap. xliv. in Job.

As moderate afflictions bring tears, so immoderate take away tears; insomuch that that sorrow becometh no sorrow, which, swallowing up the mind of the afflicted, taketh away the sense of the affliction.

EPIG. 13.

Fear'st thou to go, when such an arm invites thee?
Dread'st thou loads of sin? or what affrights thee?
If thou begin to fear, thy fear begins;

Fool, can he bear thee hence, and not thy sins?

DEUT.

XIV.

DEUT. XXXII. 29.

O that they were rise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end!

Fl. W

HAT means my sister's eye so oft to pass Thro' the long entry of that optic glass? Tell me what secret virtue doth invite

Thy wrinkled eye to such unknown delight?

Sp. It helps the sight, makes things remote appear In perfect view, it draws the objects near.

Fl. What sense-delighting objects dost thou spy?
What doth that glass present before thine eye?
Sp. I see thy foe, my reconciled friend,
Grim death, ev'n standing at the glass's end:
His left hand holds a branch of palm; his right
Holds forth a two-edg'd sword. Fl. A proper sight.
And is this all? Doth thy prospectus please
Th' abused fancy with no shapes but these?
Sp. Yes I behold the darken'd sun bereav'n
Of all his light, the battlements of heav'n
Swelt'ring in flames; the angel-guarded Son
Of glory on his high tribunal throne;

. I see a brimstone sea of boiling fire,

And fiends with knotted whips of flaming wire,
Tort'ring poor souls, that gnash their teeth in vain,
And gnaw their flame-tormented tongues for pain.
Look, sister, how the queasy-stomach'd graves
Vomit their dead, and how the purple waves
Scald their consumeless bodies; strongly cursing
All wombs for bearing, and all paps for nursing.

Fl. Can

Fl. Can thy distemper'd fancy take delight
In view of tortures? These are shows t' affright:
Look in this glass triangular; look here,

Here's that will ravish eyes. Sp. What seest thou there?
Fl. The world in colours; colours that distain

The cheeks of Proteus, or the silken train
Of Flora's nymphs; such various sorts of hue,
As sun-confronting Iris never knew:
Here, if thou please to beautify a town,

Thou may'st; or, with a hand, turn't upside down :
Here may'st thou scant or widen by the measure
Of thine own will; make short or long at pleasure:
Here may'st thou tire thy fancy, and advise
With shows more apt to please more curious eyes.
Sp. Ah fool! that doat'st on vain, on present toys,
And disrespect'st those true, those future joys;
How strongly are thy thoughts befood, alas!
To doat on goods that perish with thy glass;
Nay, vanish with the turning of a hand!
Were they but painted colours, it might stand
With painted reason that they might devote thee;
But things that have no being to besot thee!
Foresight of future torments is the way

To balk those ill which present joys bewray.
As thou hast fool'd thyself, so now come hither,
Break that fond glass, and let's be wise together.

S. BONA

S. BONAVENT. de Contemptu Sæculi.

O that men would be wise, and understand, and foresee! Be wise, to know three things: the multitude of those that are to be damned; the few number of those that are to be saved; and the vanity of transitory things: understand three things: the multitude of sins, the omission of good things, and the loss of time: foresee three things; the danger of death, the last judgment, and eternal pu< nishment.

EPIG. 14.

What, soul, no further yet? what ne'er commence
Master in faith, still bachelor of sense?

Is't insufficiency? or what has made thee
O'erslip thy lost degree? Thy lusts have staid thee.

PSALM