XII.

ISAIAH lxvi. 11.

Ye may suck, but not be satisfied with the breast of her

WH

consolation.

1.

'HAT, never fill'd; Be thy lips screw'd so fast To th'earth's full breast? for shame, for shame [unseize thee; Thou tak'st a surfeit where thou should'st but taste, And mak'st too much not half enough to please thee.

2.

Ah, fool, forbear; thou swallowest at one breath
Both food and poison down;. thou draw'st both milk
[and death.
The ub'rous breasts, when fairly drawn, repast
The thriving infant with her milky flood;
But, being overstrain'd, return at last

Unwholesome gulps compos'd of wind and blood.
A mod'rate use doth both repast and please:
Who strains beyond a mean, draws in and gulps dis--

[ease.

3.

But, O that mean, whose good the least abuse

Makes bad, is too, too hard to be directed: Can thorns bring grapes, or crabs a pleasing juice? There's nothing wholesome, where the whole's infected. Unseize thy lips: earth's milk's a ripend core, That drops from her disease, that matters from her

4.

[sore. Think'st thou that paunch, that burlies out thy coat, Is thriving fat; or flesh that seems so brawny; Thy paunch is dropsy'd, and thy cheeks are bloat; Thy lips are white, and thy complexion tawny ;.

Thy skin's a bladder blown with watry tumours: Thy flesh a trembling bog, a quagmire full of humours.

And

5.

And thou, whose thriveless hands are ever straining
Earth's fluent breasts into an empty sieve,
That always hast, yet always are complaining,

And whin'st for more than earth hath pow'r to give;
Whose treasure flows and flees away as fast;
That ever hast, and hast, yet hast not what thou hast.

6.

Go chuse a substance, fool, that will remain
Within the limits of thy leaking measure;
Or else go seek an urn that will retain
The liquid body of thy slipp'ry treasure:

Alas! how poorly are thy labours crown'd!
Thy liquor's never, sweet, nor yet thy vessel sound.

7.

What less than fool is man to prog and plot.
And lavish out the cream of all his care.
To gain poor seeming goods, which, being got,
Make firm possession but a thorough-fare?

Or, if they stay, they furrow thoughts the deeper;
And, being kept with care, they lose their careful keeper.

S. GREG. Hom. iii. secund. Parte Ezech.

If we give more to the flesh than we ought, we nourish an enemy; if we give not to her necessity what we ought, we destroy a citizen: the flesh is to be satisfied so far as suffices to our good; whosoever alloweth so much to her as to make her proud, knoweth not how to be satisfied: to be satisfied, is a great art; lest, by the satiety of the flesh, we break forth into the iniquity of her folly.

HUGO de Anima.

The heart is a small thing, but desireth great matters. It is not sufficient for a kile's dinner, yet the whole world is not sufficient for it.

EPIG.

EPIG. 12.

What makes thee, fool, so fat? Fool, thee so bare?
Ye suck the self same milk, the self same air:
No mean betwixt all paunch, and skin and bone?
The mean's a virtue, and the world has none.

XIII.

JOHN iii. 19.

Men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.

LORD, when we leave, the would, and come to thee,

slug are we!

How backward! how prepost'rous is the motion

Of our ungain devotion !

Our thoughts are millstones, and our souls are lead,
And our desires are dead :
Our vows are fairly promis'd, faintly paid;

Or broken, or not made;

Our better work (if any good) attends

In whose

Upon our private ends : performance one poor worldly scoff Foils us, or beats us off.

If thy sharp scourge find out some secret fault,

We grumble or revolt;

And if thy gentle hand forbear, we stray,

Is the road fair;

Or idly lose the way.

we loiter; clogg'd with mire:
We stick, or else retire:

A lamb appears a lion; and we fear,

Each bush we see's a bear.

When our dull souls direct our thoughts to thee,
As slow as snails are we :

But at the earth we dart our wing'd desire;

We burn, we burn like fire.

Like

Like as the am'rous needle joys to bend

To her magnetic friend:

Or as the greedy lover's eye-balls fly

At his fair mistress' eye: So, so we cling to earth; we fly and puff, Yet fly not fast enough.

If pleasure beckon with her balmy hand,

Her beck's a strong command:

If honour calls us with a courtly breath,

An hour's delay is death,

If profit's golden finger'd charm enveigles,

We clip more swift than eagles :
Let Auster weep or blustr'ing Boreas roar,
Till eyes or lungs be sore:

Let Neptune swell, until his dropsy sides
Burst into broken tides:

Nor threat'ning rocks, nor winds, nor waves, nor fire,
Can curb our fierce desire;
Nor fire, nor rocks, can stop our furious minds,
Nor waves nor winds:

How fast and fearless do our footsteps flee!
The light-foot roebuck's not so swift as we.

S. AUG.

S. AUGUST. sup. Psal. lxiv.

Two several lovers built two several cities: the love of God buildeth a Jerusalem: the love of the world buildeth a Babylon let every one enquire of himself what The loveth; and he shall resolve himself, of whence he is a citizen.

:

S. AUGUST. lib. iii. Confess.

All things are driven by their own weight, and tend to their own centre: my weight is love; by that I am driven whithersoever I am driven.

Ibidem.

Lord, he loveth thee less, that loveth any thing with thee, which he loveth not for thee.

EPIG. 13.

Lord, scourge my ass, if she should make no haste
And curb my stag, if he should fly too fast :
If he be over swift, or she prove idle,
Let Love lend him a spur; Fear, her a bridle.

i

PSALM