MANUDUCTIO ad COELUM.  
A POEM. IN TWO PARTS.  

I. Of Joy and Sadness. How a good Man ought to rejoice. He that looks before him is not cast down. Several Antidotes against Sorrow.  
II. Of Patience: The Occasions and Effects of it. The Signs of it. An Exhortation to it; with Instructions how to behave ourselves in Adversity. The necessity of Perseverance.   
Extracted out of the Writings of the Holy Fathers and Ancient Philosophers, by John Bona a Cistertian Abbot:  
And turned into Verse by James chamberlain,  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bentley and M. Magnes, in Russel-Street in Covent-Garden, 1681.   


MANUDUCTIO ad COELUM. A POEM.  
PART I.  
Of Joy and Sadness. How a good Man ought to rejoice. He that looks before him is not cast down. Several Antidotes against Sorrow.  

I.  
JOY, when it once doth so excessive grow,  
That it all Bounds of Reason doth overflow,  
Draws ever after't, as we daily find,  
A total Dissolution of the Mind.  
We then must have a prudent care of that,  
And likewise must our Joys so moderate,  
That if need be from Mirth, to Grief we may  
Dispose ourselves, act readily each way.  
Our blessed Saviour, who must sure be thought  
The ablest Arbiter of things, says not  
Those are the Blessed that laugh, and frolic here,  
But they that Mourn the truly Blessed are.  
It were indeed a strange indecency  
For one that doth profess himself to be  
Pursuant of the great Eternity,  
Among so many perils that are found  
Daily the All of Man to Circle round,  
So many just occasions as there are  
Of sadness, to be always Giggling here,  
Making of antic mouths, and like a Boy  
Laughing to transport for each trifling Toy.  
This World's fugacious Pleasures, and the Joys  
Of which we talk, and make so great a Noise,  
Are frequently observed to be the Fate,  
And Prodromus of a most anxious state:  
There neither true nor solid Joy can be,  
But in a Conscience just, serene and free,  
He that doth cherish, and take care o'th' one,  
Shall find the other his Companion,  
For in his Breast it grows, there takes delight,  
And baffles all the efforts of base despite.  
All other Joy, but what proceeds from this,  
Wants substance, and but light and trivial is;  
And there are those that Laugh, who in that while  
Of their false Mirth, have little cause to smile.  
True Joy a serious matter is, and there  
Must be a Conscience from Pollutions clear,  
Intentions honest, Actions most upright,  
A great contempt of this vain World's delight,  
And the continued Series of a fair  
Unspotted Life, for to maintain it here.  
There never can be perfect Joy without  
Impartial Justice, Temperance, and a stout  
Undaunted Courage, that is resolute.  
This Virtue's Method is, at first to weep,  
And ever after Halcyon days to keep.   

II.  
Sadness, the blackest of Passions, is defined  
To be a perturbation of the Mind.  
Which from some present Evil takes its rise,  
That either real, or conceived is.  
This fetters all our Senses, pulleth down  
heavens Image, Reason, from her rightful Throne,  
And in her room, by Fancies powerful Charm,  
Sets up a feigned Ill to work our Harm.  
By which we ofttimes to ourselves create,  
And find more trouble in the fond Coneit  
Of Things, than in the Things themselves can ere  
Be found, if strictly they examined were.  
Wherefore be not too sedulous to know,  
And pry into the state of things below,  
How with ourselves, or others, matters stand  
Concerning Servants, Moneys, Business, Lands;  
But rather take into regard th' esteem,  
And real judgement which we have of them.  
'Tis not within the Power of any Wight,  
Of greatest Wit or Courage, clearest sight,  
By one, or all together, that can free  
Himself from Force, Disgrace, or Robbery.  
But this is in his Power to undertake,  
An upright judgement of these things to make,  
And to content himself that they are not  
Entirely Evil, as by him they're thought,  
But oftentimes (if he but wisely knows  
To manage them) prove advantageous.  
He that is under present Trouble brought,  
Though ne'er so great, let him but bend his thought  
To a good guarded Conscience, which a sure  
And lasting Comfort is, and there's his Cure.  
To a good Man nothing can come amiss,  
Not that he feels not what sad Mis'ry is,  
But he doth mastered, and considers all  
Bitter Afflictions that do him befall,  
Only as matter for his Patience to  
Be busied on, lest it should idle grow;  
Or as the Instrument, and means of Grace,  
And that which opens him a way to pass  
Into Eternal Glory, where the Blest  
No Sorrows know, but undisturbed rest.  
A good man may be thought unhappy, though,  
If rightly judged, he never can be so.   

III.  
It doth extremely much abate the keen  
Edge of Misfortune, when it is foreseen;  
And to ourselves to state the matter thus,  
Whatever may be, shall fall out to us;  
For he that's thus prepared can never be  
Plunged in surprises of a Misery.  
All kind of Disappointments heavy fall  
Upon those Men whose thoughts, and actions all  
Are fixed upon Prosperity, as that  
Which they account to be the happiest state.  
What if a man should lose the half, or all  
Of his Estate? What if his House should fall?  
His Corn be blasted? and his Friends should leave  
Him, when his needs doth their assistance crave?  
What if his Credit should endangered be?  
(Than which no greater Evil he can see)  
His Office ta'en away? his honoured Gown  
Turned o'er his Ears, for Crimes to him unknown?  
And to all this let's add tormenting Pain,  
Bondage, from which he ne'er can freedom gain,  
Till welcome Death knocks off th' uneasy Chain.  
A frightful Ruin, laying all things waste,  
And Fire devouring with dispatchful haste:  
All this to no more comes, than what each wise  
And prudent Man's prepared for, and foresees.  
There is no worldly Misery that is known,  
Which he beforehand has not thought upon,  
And made as easy to be born by him,  
By long considering on't from time to time,  
As others by long sufferance make't, to whom  
A second Nature 'tis almost become.  
That which to any Man may come to pass,  
May be (for aught we know) each Persons Case.  
Where's the Rich Man that can himself secure  
From pinching Hunger, or from being Poor?  
Where's the great Man that wholly is exempt  
From foul Disgrace, or Scorners base Contempt?  
Where is the Kingdom (altho' ne'er so great,  
So rich and Pop'lous) or the Nation that  
May not be overturned, and have not one  
Soul left therein, it's most sad Fate to moan?  
Have we not lived to see, with our own Eyes,  
A Great, and Glorious Prince, Religious, Wise,  
Whose Equal never any Kingdom had,  
Brought to the Fatal Block, there lose his head,  
By his own Subjects impious command,  
And this performed by th' common Hangman's hand?  
A Villainy beyond Example great!  
And such as of the like no Book doth treat.  
Yet these prodigious Changes mentioned here,  
Not Works of long and tedious Ages are,  
There but a Moment's difference doth lie  
'Twixt flowing Plenty, and starved Beggary,  
The glorious costly Court, and the most mean,  
Cold-ragged Cottage of the poorest Man;  
A lofty Throne, adorned with Gems of price,  
And a raised Scaffold where the Prisoner dies.  
This is the strangely variable state  
Of Humane things, so very sickle, that  
What was to day another Persons Let,  
May be to Morrow mine, as well as not;  
No Man endures ill Fortune with less harm,  
Than he that always doth expect its Storm.   

iv  
Virtue has in Prosperity but small,  
Or no occasion to appear at all.  
But in that dismal Melancholy Hour  
Of sad Adversity, her Conquering Power  
Is in our Patience manifested so,  
That to her strength the stoutest Troubles bow.  
We are become a Spectacle (saith Paul)  
To God, and Angels, Men in general.  
And 'tis a sight in which God takes delight,  
To see a brave Man with ill Fortune fight;  
With headstrong Passions, and all Casualties,  
(Those his confounding stubborn Enemies)  
And in great Triumph leading, as he goes,  
All his Domestic and his Foreign Foes.  
A Pilot's skill is not discerned at all  
In Governing a Ship, when under Sail  
In a smooth quiet Sea, and gentle Gale.  
And He that is not tried, hath this mischance  
To live in an unfruitful Ignorance.  
And yet when tried how apt are most of us  
Unwisely to complain, and cry out thus—  
Most miserable Men, that ever we  
Should have endured so great Calamity!  
When as most happy Men (say I) we are,  
That by this means have gained this profit here,  
That with great Honour, and brave Constancy,  
We have boar up ourselves in Misery;  
Where others would perchance have shrunk, or fell  
Under the Burden, which we managed well.  
We therefore are not to give up, and yield  
Ourselves, but stoutly must maintain the Field,  
In Crosses and Disasters, and there stand  
Firm to encounter all their dreadful Band.  
For 'tis but bravely standing to their Front,  
And breaking of their first and furious Brunt,  
And we shall find the rest to be no more  
But Fancy and Opinion, of no Power.  
The Works of Nature in all Persons are  
Found to be all alike, no Blame's in Her.  
But for Discredit, Contumely, low  
Despised Poverty, and what else we know  
Are Evils called by the ignoble Rout,  
Who seldom have a right well guided thought,  
Some there are known who do endure them all  
With a submissive Patience, and they fall  
On others who no reckoning of them make,  
Nor notice of them in the least do take.  
So that 'tis not the force (as some Men own)  
Of any Natural Impression  
That we do labour under, but 'tis hence,  
From a perverse Opinion's Influence.  
Why then should Man so horridly belie  
Himself, and call that a Calamity,  
A Burden insupportable, which he  
May order so, that it shall easy be?  
Let him but his Opinion change of it,  
And then 'twill easy on his Shoulders sit.  
Each Man is just as miserable as  
Upon himself he doth a judgement pass;  
And let him still complain of what he will,  
Yet there is no Affliction half so ill  
As his impatience, this is of the two  
The greater Mischief, and most harm will do.   

V  
Is there a Sickness, or a Pain so great,  
So very stubborn, and so obstinate,  
That in some measure Time will not allay,  
Or take it from us utterly away?  
If so, the Question is, Whether 'tis fit  
That we ourselves should put an end to it;  
Or whether we with Patience should attend  
Till it without us cometh to an end?  
For Time, to whom all Earthly things must bow,  
Will most assuredly at last that do;  
Which common Prudence at the present might  
Better perform, would it assert its right.  
Nay, had we ne'er so prone, so great a Will,  
To entertain and cherish in us still  
Bewitching Melancholy, 'twould departed  
At length, in spite of all our Power and Art.  
'Tis true, that Grief when it is fresh i'th' mind,  
May Tenderness, and much Compassion find;  
But when it waxeth old, it apish grows,  
Than which there's nothing that's more odious.  
If an unhappy Wretch advantaged were  
By sobbing and lamenting, he should ne'er  
By me be hindered, but have my consent  
That's Days and Nights in Sighs and Groans be spent,  
In all the Outrages that ere was known  
By a dejected Creature to be done;  
But if our Howling and our Crying be  
Of no advantage in our Misery,  
Let's to victorious Resolutions sly,  
And fight our troubles till they vanguished lie.  
That Pilot merits to be thrown o're-Bord  
That in a Storm will not his skill afford.  
But quits the Helm, and sets the Ship adrist,  
In that great danger for herself to shift.  
But he that stands with a Courageous heart,  
Firm to his Tackle, and with all his Art  
Bears briskly up against the Storm, though He  
Should with the Vessel overwhelmed be,  
Yet dies with Honour and the Comfort too  
Of having done what he was bound to do.    

MANUDUCTIO ad COELUM, A POEM.  
PART II.  
Of Patience, the Occasions and Effects of it. The Signs of it. An Exhortation to it, with Instructions how to behave ourselves in Adversity. The necessity of Perseverance.  

I.  
PAtience a Virtue is, that makes Mankind  
To bear Affliction with an even mind.  
But as of miseries several sorts there are,  
Some more vexatious, and some less, so there  
Are several Names which fitly we bestow  
On humble Patience, suitable unto  
The various Evils which it is to be  
Practised upon, to try its Constancy.  
Patience, so called properly, is this;  
An Heavenly Gift of bearing Injuries,  
Without the least disturbance of the Mind,  
And with a Courage not to be confined.  
When it relates to the low worthless things,  
(Which ofttimes trouble to the Owner bring,)  
The loss of Worldly Goods, and Fortune, we  
Give it the Name of equanimity,  
And that which buoys the Heart up (which the sear  
And Fountain is of active Life, and Heat)  
In the delays, and the defeat of some  
Expected Good, which ne'er is found to come,  
We have a proper genuine Name, which we  
Express this by, called longanimity.  
But the Heroic Virtue which defends,  
And fortifies us to all other ends,  
Which doth support and comfort us in all  
The Griess, and Miseries that do us befall,  
Is known by the all-glorious Name, which we  
Deservedly give't, unshaken Constancy.  
A Virtue which all others doth exeed.  
And which we more than all the rest do need.  
'Tis not for nothing that Man's Life is here  
A Warfare called, considering how we are  
With Foes beset, what Troops of Mischiefs break  
Daily into us, their Revenge to wreak.  
There's not a nimble Moment slips away  
Without a fierce Assault, and furious Fray;  
And if we had no spiteful Foes without,  
Yet we should find it work enough to rout  
Those cruel ones which in our Bosoms lie,  
Struggling with us to gain a Victory.  
We breed and Harbour Enemies enough.  
Within ourselves to work our overthrow;  
That give no respite, but do all they can  
To torture, and disturb the Soul of Man.  
Weep we come into the World, and so  
We live in it, and so do forth of't go.  
'Tis the first thing we learn, in our young Morn,  
And Dawn of Years, so soon as we are Born;  
And we can find our Eyes with Tears distil,  
When we of nothing else are capable.  
Divers there are upon Record, who while  
They here conversed were never known to smile,  
But we ne'er heard of any Person yet  
Whose Eyes a pensive-Tear did never let.  
It therefore doth concern us all to be  
With Patience armed, without which Virtue we  
No Noble Conquest o'er our Foes can gain,  
Nor e'er Perfections glorious height attain.  
No Mortal knows the Luster of this Gem,  
Nor rightly how to give't its due Esteem;  
Till he doth read it, that's to say, till He  
Is plunged into the Sea of Misery.  
Never was any prudent Person known  
To be impatient in Affliction.   

II.  
He has the more to fear, and justly too,  
That never yet did Adverse Fortune know:  
The learned Physicians do in this agree,  
There may too good a state of Body be;  
And that there nothing is more dangerous than  
A Plethory unto the Health of Man.  
So a dead Calm at Sea, the Seamen cry,  
Is a Forerunner of a Storm that's nigh.  
If we are under the unpleasant stroke  
Of froward Accidents, we are not to look  
Upon it as a Cruelty, or own  
We undergo a Persecution;  
But a Contest, which will our Temples Crown  
With a Victorious Wreath, and gain Renown.  
Without a Fight there can no Conquest be,  
And Triumph none, without a Victory.  
Now if our Captain of Salvation was  
Himself to suffer, and this way to pass  
Into his Glory, shall such Worms as we,  
Such abject Creatures, think to go ,  
And Gratis be partakers made of what  
Another hath at such a dear rate bought.  
He that doth think by any other way,  
Than through Afflictions Door, to enter Joy,  
Deceives himself, for Tribulation is  
The Road chalked out unto the Seat of Bliss.  
A Christians Sacramental Oath is this,  
To do all good, and suffer Injuries.  
Lively to Paint, and the true Tokens show,  
Of a most perfect Patience, come we now.  
He that has reached that happy Point doth bear  
All adverse Fortune that befalls him here,  
And in the height of all his Woes is known  
To show no Signs of Reluctation:  
He murmurs not under the scourging Rod,  
Nor Ill for Ill returns, but always good.  
He loves his Foes with an unfeigned Love,  
And to the Throne of the great God above  
Sends up his Prayers in the behalf of those  
Who seek to Rob him of his sweet Repose.  
He sees the gentle hand of the most High  
In his Afflictions, and submissively  
Sits down, and either nothing says at all,  
Or for Relief to none but Heaven doth call,  
Resolved with Joy and thankfulness to bear  
What God sees fit to lay upon him here.  
To Sum up all, it is an high degree  
Of Patience to endure contentedly  
The wrong our Brother doth us, though the Man  
Be to us as injurious as he can.   

III.  
When we do lose our Worldly Goods, 'tis no  
Small comfort to us some time to bestow  
A serious thought on their uncertain state,  
And how, when once increased, they do abate.  
What ere we love, or in this World possess,  
A flitting Fugitive by Nature is;  
It is with us indeed, but by just right  
It is not ours, nor can we stay its flight.  
And we are not to fool ourselves, and run  
Into a vain and needless Passion,  
For a fantastic thought our idle Brain,  
Of their continuance here, doth entertain.  
For we to every thing uncertain are,  
Whereas we firmly should to it adhere;  
And therefore can expect that aught should be  
Constant to us, for our Inconstancy.  
Virtue the only thing excepted is,  
This truly's that which doth immortalize  
Mortality itself; all else we find  
Carry their Death with them, and are but Wind.  
Betwixt ourselves and our Possessions then,  
Let's keep a distance wide enough, for when  
They come to mingle and incorporate,  
He takes our Heart, that taketh our Estate.  
A good Man cannot properly be said,  
To suffer loss of any thing he had,  
For whatsoever of Wealth or Honour can  
Be from him took, is no part of the Man;  
But somewhat added to his Person, that,  
Whether it stays or goes, he values not,  
Esteeming not himself to be at all  
Richer, or Poorer, let what will befall.  
O what a deal of pother do we make,  
How loud our Out-cries and our Sorrows speak,  
When we our Money lose, or when from us,  
Death takes a Child, or fire consumes our House!  
But we can leave our Virgin Modesty,  
Part with our Virtue, and our Constancy,  
And not so much as in our Faces show  
A conscious Blush, when any of them go.  
And yet we here, without a troubled thought,  
Lose a substantial Good, and more than that,  
We likewise part with what's our own, whereas  
In th' other Case we let not either pass.  
He that Laments for such a trifling loss,  
Deserves to feel the World's severest Cross.  
If 'twere not for a strange disordered Love,  
(Which to our Peace the satal'st Foe doth prove)  
We should not then this falsity believe,  
We ought had lost that this vain World can give.  
For what are outward things, what profit can  
Their poor enjoyments give the inward Man?  
Or betwixt Wisdom and our Money, what  
True Correspondence can there well be thought?   

iv  
It would do well, in whatsoever we  
Do go about, to show such prudency,  
As to take in the Adjuncts that attend  
The Thing on which our busy thoughts we bend.  
For there are many Curcumstances that,  
For want of heed and foresight, may create  
Vexation to us, and such Tempests raise,  
That will disturb our sweet Repose and Joys,  
I call my Servant, and perchance it may  
Be his misfortune to be out o'th' way;  
Or else he idle stands, and does not go  
About the Business which I'd have him do.  
I am to make a Visit, who knows but  
The Man will not be seen, or else may shut,  
The Door against me, and refuse to me  
Admittance, valuing not my Company.  
Suppose but this beforehand, and we shall  
Think all is well, and never vex at all.  
It is the wambling of a nauseous mind,  
(The chief Disease that reigns in Womankind,)  
To fret and brawl, because that such a one  
Admittance had, where I was bid begun.  
I could not get so much as one poor Word  
With such a Person, at his well-filled Board,  
Down to the lower end I crowded was,  
When I deserved to have the chiefest place.  
He that's not moved with this, no notice takes  
At all of it, into no Passion breaks.  
And he that understands it not to be  
Matter of Course, and mere Formality,  
Without dispute must be concluded one  
That to th' Affairs of Humane life's unknown.  
If we can mend it let us, and if not,  
Like Virtue's Soldiers let us take our Lot.  
We daily apt are loudly to exclaim  
Against the Evils of our Age, to blame  
Sly Malice, Impudence, and Wickedness,  
And we do well, and prudently in this,  
If we can but reform the World, and drive  
Out of't the Fools and Knaves that in it live.  
But if this will not be, our Prudence ought  
To teach our Tongues not to be finding fault;  
Since 'tis no new device for men to go  
In their own way, and what they please to do.  
Why don't we rather turn the blame upon  
Ourselves, for hoping what can ne'er be done?  
The World was never otherwise, nor e'er  
Will other be, while we continue here;  
As long as there are Men, there faults will be,  
Should they remain unto Eternity.   

V  
He that doth labour under any weight  
Of sad Affliction, be it small or great,  
Should wisely ponder not so much upon  
What are his Sufferings, as what he has done.  
And what he now so highly doth resent,  
Esteeming it a rigorous Punishment,  
Will then be found, as it deserves to be,  
A gentle Mercy, not Severity:  
And that the strokes of this reforming Rod  
Are laid upon him by Almighty-God  
To work his good, to make him more submiss,  
To try and harden him in Miseries,  
And so reclaim him, that his Reason may  
O'er all his Passions have a sovereign sway.  
They that enjoy their fill of Pleasure here,  
Oft kept for Torments in the next World are,  
He that doth tumble in his dearest Gold,  
And smiling-Plenty in his Arms doth hold,  
Who knows how He'd behave himself, should He  
Feel the hard state of Want and Penury?  
Or with what firmness any Person would  
Abide the Rage and Odium of the Crowd;  
That by their favour, almost all his Days,  
High marks of Honour has received, and Praise?  
We're Prompt enough our Comforts to apply,  
And give advice to men in Misery;  
Why don't we rather to our Discontents▪  
Afford these choice and healing Documents;  
And turn th' Advice upon ourselves, when God  
Gives us a taste of his reforming Rod?  
We can submit unto the Chyrurgion's Art,  
To save the Body, with a gladsome Heart,  
Can lose a Limb, and for the smarting-Blow  
Thank him, and for his pains reward him too.  
Affliction is God's Remedy, and this,  
For the Souls Health, in some Distempers, is  
As needful as Consuming fire can be  
To Cauterize a gangrened Malady:  
And yet we are extremely prone to break  
Into ingrate Complaints, and to mistake,  
And look on that to be a mighty loss,  
And Misery, which is not so to us,  
But in the intention, and in the Effect,  
Is a safe Cure, and doth our Good respect.  
If Poverty, Sickness, or whatever we  
Do Evil call, might but supposed be  
To take upon them this unheard-of Task,  
To Reason with us, and these Questions ask;  
‛ Sirs, What's your Quarrel to us? Very fain  
‛ we'd know what hurt you do by us sustain?  
‛ Have we been known at any time so rude,  
 take your Justice, Prudence, Fortitude;  
‛ Or any thing besides that good was known,  
‛ And you could call in proper Terms your own?  
‛ May you not with us, as without us be  
‛ As free from Cares, and live as Merrily?  
To this we ought not, nor should dare to speak,  
Silence must here the only answer make.  
The Matter duly weighed, and understood,  
We Good for Ill do take, and Ill for Good.  
And our impatience is the most severe,  
And greatest Evil that befalls us here.   

VI  
In the concerns of others, it may be  
We so may act Arts of Hypocrisy,  
And show such Symptoms of a constant mind,  
And Speech so well compact, that it would blind  
The most discerning Eye; but in our own  
Our cunning fails us, and the Cheat is shown.  
Our Duty 'tis to shed a Pious Tear,  
With those that Weep, and in Affliction are;  
But though our Tears in common be, there's no  
Reason the Cause of them must be so too.  
We are as much as in us lies, to be  
A Friend to those who are in Misery,  
If we receive an injury, let this  
Be well considered, that there nothing is  
That can befall us, but there doth belong  
Two handles to't, a right one, and a wrong;  
Take it but by the right, and then we shall  
Not look upon ourselves as wronged at all.  
The Man's unjust. If we do take't that way,  
These Furies haunt us, which our Peace destroy;  
Revengful Anger, and wild Violence,  
Which make a Mountain of each small Offence.  
But if we take it on the other side,  
He's one for whom the Blessed Jesus died;  
Redeemed with us by the same precious Blood,  
To the same Glory called out, and wooed;  
The turning of our thoughts this way, be sure  
Will to our minds a lasting Calm procure.  
We likewise may (and herein Wisdom's shown)  
Upon it pass this short reflection;  
In matter of reproof we sooner shall,  
From a professed Foe the truth of all  
Our Follies hear, than from a Bosom Friend,  
For 'tis his study to find faults, and bend  
His most malicious Powers to search into  
Our weakness more, and stricter than we do;  
If we commit the thing that we should not,  
Or do neglect to do the thing we ought,  
We shall be sure to hear on't, for he'll soon  
Blazon our failings over all the Town.  
Let's therefore walk so warily, that we  
May make some profit of his Enmity,  
And we shall be more careful when we know  
That there's a Spy upon what-er'e we do.   

VII.  
Of all our Virtue's Constaney's the Crown,  
And the Perfection. The Reward alone  
Is promised to beginners, yet 'tis ne'er  
Delivered but to those that persevere.  
Wherefore above all other things let's be  
Masters of a resolved Constancy.  
In the ascending to the lofty Top  
Of a steep Mountain, if we once but stop,  
In stead of standing on its slippery side,  
We down again unto the bottom slide.  
First let's resolve on what we are to do,  
And then with fervour let us that pursue;  
For none but he that is not in his Wits,  
Will trifle's business off to do't by fits.  
It is a weakness of the mind to be  
Roving, and seeking of fresh Company,  
New sports, new places, when the fault of this  
Wholly in us, not in the Climate is,  
Or other Circumstances which we are  
Willing to charge with all our Follies here.  
The tender Plant by oft removing dies,  
And oftentimes the change of Remedies  
Plungeth the Patient (which would else do well)  
Into a Sickness that's incurable.  
If the Divine Apostle at a loss  
I'th' Contemplation of his Duty was,  
What will become of us, frail Creatures here,  
Whose Virtues scarcely comparable are  
Even to his Imperfections, whereof he  
So much complained in his Mortality.  
The love of Learning endless is, nor can  
Extinguished be, while there remains a Man.  
The love of Riches never is to be  
Sufficed, although we heaps on heaps do see.  
And the fond love of fading Honour ne'er  
Will be allayed, while we Corruption bear.  
So that we must this certain truth confess,  
That there's no end of all our greediness  
After the things, which in their Nature are  
So short-lived found, and so uncertain here.  
But when we come unto that all Divine  
And lasting Wisdom, which would make us shine  
Among the Blessed, and give us endless Joys,  
Then the least touch and relish of it Cloys.  
But this is not according to his known  
And sacred Precept, that commands each one  
To be as perfect as the God of Bliss,  
Our good and Heavenly Father, perfect is.  
He that looks up but with a willing Mind  
To that Example, shall not fail to find  
A copious place for the increase of each  
Virtue of his, till he Perfection reach.    
FINIS.