EMBLEMS With elegant FIGURES, newly published. By J. H. Esquire. LONDON, Printed by R. DANIEL To the most Honoured Virtuous Lady, Mrs. DOROTHY STANLEY. MADAM, NOne can wonder that I bring these EMBLEMS under your Protection. For I and this Book have acquired so near a Relation, that I must (for my own sake,) do it what good I can: And the best way I know to advance its condition, is to prefix your Name. Had they been high Discourses of the best Philosophy (whether Ancient or Modern,) or choice pieces of philology, I should have offered them to your noble Husband Mr. THOMAS STANLEY, whom our Island stands admiring to see him now (as once the great Alexander) conquer the world, when 'tis scarce thirty years since first he came into it; There being no glory that Greece or Rome, or their Successors can boast, which his matchless Genius hath not made his own, and ours too, by a noble communication. Therefore to him also I inscribe these EMBLEMS. I am bold thus to present them, that as Chappells (which before were but Lime and Stone) they may grow venerable by their Dedication: and Likewise be an Emblem of the humble respect and services of MADAM Your most obedient Servant R. D. The Preface To the READER THese Emblems falling under my perusal, I could d● no less than acknowled● what I find to be trut● which is, that Helicon h●●● found another Channel in a full stra● to glide to Heaven, Virtue is embalmed Verse, and Divine love so enamoured w● humane Wit and Art, that by an holy co●●lation they have both together brought forth (without adultery,) this happy Ch● of such heavenly beauty, that it wounds 〈◊〉 Reader not as other Poesies with da●● of wanton sensuality, but with 〈◊〉 influence of that Divine love where w●●● itself is so replenished, and feeds the 〈◊〉 with excess of appetite. But high 〈◊〉 iliums do often serve but to per●●x security with doubt, and breed a su●●tion, that either the Author wanteth ●●rth, or the impression vent: the last of ●hich concerns the Printer, the other my 〈◊〉. As for the Printer, I am confident his ●●es are, that the Buyer will be a greater ●●ner than the Seller: and as for myself, must confess it is nothing but the worth the Book that prompted me to these: and though it needs no warmth from another ●●me, it being its own abundant commen●tion, yet I must ingenuously confess and ●●de this Verdict, On my credit 'tis good, and ●ing read with an impartial Eye, if it ●●des thee not prone to approbation, it will ●ake thee so. But whither the matter be ●ore full of Divinity, or the stile of learning and Art, I leave as a Querie: and so farewell. John Quarles. In commendation of the Author and his Work. IT were some kind of Gild but to rehearse How wanton sin once domineered in verse: Vice then usurped the chiefest wits we know; But now the choicest in religion flow. See here are flames that shoot both heat and light, To warm our hearts, & make our darkness brig● That we inflamed might love, and loving see The holiest raptures clad in poetry. How sad's the world! Virtue no place can win, Unless by pleasure it be ushered in. Such is thy holy cozenage, which gains Men to that goodness by thy pleasing strains; Which else they would neglect, if th' had not been Bribed by delight in those, to let it in. How poisoned is the world that there must be Some poison used for its recovery! How sick too is the world, whose health must b● Procured by its own infirmity! To work this riddle cure, there's not in all Thy Book a line, but is medicinal. Thomas Wall, M. A. OXON. The Praeludium. FRown on me shades, and let not day Steal in a needle-pointed Ray, To make discoveries wrap me here In folds of night, and do not fear The Sun's approach, so shall I find A greater light possess my mind. O do not, Children of the Spring! Hither your charming odours bring Nor with your painted smiles devise To captivate my wand'ring eyes: Th' have strayed too much, but now begin Wholly t' employ themselves within, What do I now on Earth? O why Do not these members upward fly? And force a room among the Stars And there my greatned self disperse As wide as thought, what do I here Spread on soft down of Roses, there That spangled Curtain which so wide Dilates its lustre, shall me hide. Mount up low thoughts and see what sweet Reposure Heaven can beget, Could you the least compliance frame How should I all become one flame, And melt in purest fires? O how My warmed Heart would sweetly glow And waste those dregs of Earth that stay Glued to it, than it might away And still ascend till that it stood Within the Centre of all good, There pressed, not overwhelmed, with joys Under its burden fresh arise, There might it lose itself, and then With losing find itself again: There might it triumph and yet be Still in a Blessed Captivity, There might it— O why do I speak Whose humble thoughts be far too weak To apprehend small Notions, nay Angels be non-plused though the day Break clearer on them, and they run In Anogees more near the Sun. But oh! what pull's me? how I shall In the least moment headlong fall; Now I'm on Earth again, not dight As formerly in Springing light, The selfsame Objects please that I Did even now as base deny, Now what a powerful influence Has Beauty on my slavish sense: How rob I Nature that I may Her wealth upon one Cheek display, How doth the Giant Honour seem Well statured in my fond esteem, And Gold, that Bane of Men, I call Not boys ' nous now, but Cordial; Since that the world's great eye the Sun Has not disdained to make 't his own, Now every Passion sways and I Tamely admit their Tyranny, Only with numerous sigh say The Basest things is breathing Clay. But sure these vapours will not e'er Draw Curtains o'er my Hemisphere. Let it clear up and welcome day It's lustre once again display, Thou (O my sun!) a while mayst lie As intercepted from mine eye, But love shall fright those Clouds, and thou Into my purged eyes shall flow, Which (melted by my inward fires Which shall be blown by strong desires) Consuming into tears shall feel Each tear into a Pearl congeal, And every Pearl shall be a stem In my Celestial Diadem. SPARKLES OF DIVINE LOVE. 1 What am I without thee but one running headlong? Aug. Conf. lib. 4. cap. 1. LOrd! send thine hand Uuto my rescue, or I shall Into mine own ambushments fall, Which ready stand To d' execution All, Laid by self-love, O what Love of ourselves is that That breeds such uproars in our better state? 2 I think I pass A meadow guilt with Crimson showers, Of the most rich and beauteous flowers, Yet Thou, alas! Espy'st what under lours Taste them, they be Poison, lay Thyself to rest, there stray Whole knots of Snakes that solely wait for prey. 3 To dream of flight Is more than madness, there will be Either some strong necessity Or else delight, To chain us, would we flee, Thus do I wand'ring go And cannot poisons know From wholesome simples that beside them grow. 4 Blind that I am! That do not see before mine eyes These gaping dangers that arise Ever the same, Or in varieties Far worse, how shall I scape Or whether shall I leap, Or with what comforts solace my hard hap? 5 Thou! who alone Canst give assistance, send me aid, Else shall I in those depths be laid, And quickly thrown, Whereof I am afraid, Thou who canst stop the sea In her mid-rage, stop me Lest from myself, my own self-ruine be. EPIGRAM 1. Shouldst thou not sometimes man in dangerstand Thy Lord would not so freely reach his hand, But now he helps at need, thus do we see That sometimes danger brings security. 1 Toys of toys, and vanities of vanities did withhold me. Aug. Conf. l. 8. c. 11. EVen as the wand'ring Traveller doth stray Lead from his way By a false fire, whose flame to cheated sight doth lead aright, All Paths are footed over but that one Which should be gone: Even so my foolish wishes are in chase Of every thing but what they should embrace. 2 We laugh at children that can when they please A bubble raise, And when their fond Ambition sated is Again dismiss Thee fleeting Toy into its former air: What do we here But act such tricks? yet thus we differ, they Destroy, so do not we: we sweat, they play. 3 Ambitious towring do some gallants keep From calmer sleep, Yet when these thoughts the most possessed are They grope but air, And when they be highest in an instant fade Into a shade; Or like a stone that more forced upwards shall With greater violence to its centre fall. 4 Another, whose conceptions only dream Monsters of fame. The vain applause of other madmen buys With his own sighs Yet his enlarged Name shall never craul Over this ball: But soon consume, thus doth a trumpet's sound Rush bravely on a little. then's not found. 5 But we as soon may tell how often shapes Are changed by apes; As know how oft man's childish thoughts do vary And still miscarry: So a weak eye in twilight thinks it sees New species, While it sees nought, so men in dreams conceive Of sceptres, till that waking undeceive. EPIGRAM 2. Why frets thou that thy soul doth dote upon These guilded trifles of corruption? thyself's the very cause, what remedy And thine own hearts a Traitor to thine eye. Thou art with me in secret O Lord, whipping me oft with the rods of fear and shame▪ Aug. Conf. lib. 8. chap. 11. NO sooner wretched man beginning is To do amiss, But fear doth give alarms, and wake The drowsy conscience, which doth shake The raging Passions, yet they forward run Pursuing always what they first begun, Thus doth depraved man at first begin. To act his sin, And put his hand to that his heart Doth with such opposition thwart, Half punishing before, thus Serpent sin To sting and poison doth at once begin, But when w' have acted what depraved desire Did first require; The torturer Gild doth banish fear, And sin doth like herself appear Armed with her venomed snakes which ready stand To punish what herself did first command. By this means conscience disturbed doth so Enraged grow That she whips out all peace, so we Snatched from our false security Are torn by our own tortures, such as ne'er The worst offender can from tyrant fear. Then we suppose each twig that is behind moved by the wind Would give a lash, we think a hare Flying detest's us, if we hear A lamkin bleat for milk, we think 't doth cry Mother, yond man's a sinner, come not nigh: Meanwhile the silken bonds of sleep Cannot us keep Or if one slumber seize our eyes, Legions of ugly dreams arise, That in the night we wish for day, in day (Finding no ease) we wish the light away. While that thy fiery steed did run Poor Absalon Thy circling knots of golden hair Only so many halters were And to thee (fairest of the earth!) that earth Gave not a deathbed that had given the birth. EPIGRAM 3. So fatal ' 'tis! he that commits a crime Is his own executioner that time; And is with secret sorrows only rend, Since sin itself is its own punishment. 1 So I was sick and in torture, turning me up and down in my bonds, Aug. Conf. 8. cap. 11. Shouldst thou not (Lord!) dispense. Thy powerful influence, We all should freeze Like Scythian seas Bound up in flinty ice, and all The suns kind warmth in vain should fall: Nor would dame Nature let her riches come out of her womb: But since thou lettest thy rays run free, And spirit gives To all that lives Each several thing continues, but by thee. 2 Thus art thou sweetly hurled Even through the little world, But once bereave What first thou gave What a lean dulness soon doth thwart The dead and putryfying heart? No high affections then advance the soul and make it roll About the woolly clouds to play, And censure all That's here, as small As the least Atom that sports in a ray. 3 Then is mortality A most enforcing lie And clay is grown, As hard as stone Nor can our cunning make it loose Till that thy heat do interpose, Thus do our wounds corrupt and gaping stand Till that thine hand Do gently close and pull these darts Which so have been By the scent in To our insensate and obdurate hearts. EPIGRAM 4. What art thou sick to death, go and reside 〈◊〉 yond red Hospital that stands so wide: ●as ●is a wound, what though, by it thou'lt be ●ealed of whatsoever infirmity. ●as hungry within, because I wanted thee my inward meat O my God. 3. Conf. cap. 4. ●N vain you court my wanton taste Choicest of Nature's delicates! ●ere is no strength in such repast ●hough gained by excessive rates ●ee only counterfeit a feast, Devour what air, earth, sea, can give Thou'lt not one moment longer live. ●o, but accelerate thy fall ●hough stuffed with whatsoever spice ●he East can yield, though fancy shall Assisted by proud lust) devise ●o swallow at one bit this All. Art thou so blind thou canst not see Thyself thus tantalized be? 〈◊〉 that thy parched gums be dry The other are not real) and 〈◊〉 hunger gripe thy stomach, fly To him who'll lead thee by the hand. Where thou may'st streams of life espy There drink thy fill at any rate Thou canst not be intemperate. There is the true Ambrosia Food worthy the Etherial soul, Which shall due nourishment convey, Such as no hunger can control: But it thy fainting limbs will stay With due refreshment, which shall be As long-lived as Eternity: O do but taste and see how far These Sodom-apples do deceive, They do beguile the eye as fair Rich Balls of gold; but th' taste bereave And in an instant vanished are, The other tasted truly fill And further touched are sweeter still. Mad Prodigals we may a while Hurried away by lust go eat Husks with the nasty hogs, but still We no society beget Till that our father doth us fill And we return, O let us go Since we such entertainment know. EPIGRAM 5. ●t hungry Boy? go to yond vine there see ●he grapes of life in purple clusters be, ●ere meet with Israel's shepherd, 'tis his vine ●●'s gardener both and sun to dress and shine. 1 How long! How long! why is not this hour the period of my filthiness. Aug. Conf. 2. lib. 8. EVen as the splitting mariner Blasted with storms ●oth in short sighs his vows proffer, And so performs 〈◊〉 broken accents what his tongue ●ould not but in the utterance wrong▪ 2 〈◊〉 doth the soul, when that the weight Of sin doth lie ●pon her crazy shoulders, strait Her groans do cry ●ishing she knows not what, yet more ●hen any language can implore. 3 How long, my father! wilt me leave? How long I must 〈◊〉 an inhabitant of th' grave involved in dust, ●hou who createdst all canst raise 〈◊〉 out of ashes if thou please. 4 How every passion is become Mine enemy, And draws me further from the home Where I should be: Yet thou canst curb them, thou alone Who ne'er waste swayed by passion. 5 Oh when shall snowy Innocence My inmate be! And I freed from my load of sense, Fly up to thee; Drown me in blood then I'll appear, Washed in that crimson river, clear. 6 Look, (Lord!) upon my miseries How they appea● Scribbled and fragmented in sighs Before thee here Stop them I pray; yet I confess These groan are my happiness. 7 'Tis the first step to health to know We are not well; I open my wounds unto thee so, Pour oil and heal: And when they're closed up take care They prove not deeper than they are. EPIGRAM 6. Most happy Rhetoric of sighs, that bear's such strong persuasions to Jehovahs' ears! Which stand most firm, when faltering tongue doth fall; And when thou speakest worst speakest best of all: 1 Take up and Read; Take up and Read. Aug. lib. 8. cap. 12. UNhappy boy! How art thou now become Thyself thy Tomb? Within what darkness dost thou lie? Such as that glorious Prince of light Whose smiles inamell every flower Cannot affright, But that these vapours still condense the more▪ 2 How are thine eyes Courted with whatsoe'er The terming ear Or pregnant nature can devise? Yet what a winter is within? What marble freezings which congeal? Though they have been Bathed in warmed showers, which from thine eyes did steal 3 Insatiate soul! Which hast devoured each art Yet hungry art, And like an empty ship dost roll: Where wilt thou once contented rest Exempt from all this fluctuation, And fixed thy breast Where 't may repose in a secured station? 4 Turn but thine eye And view that folded Oracle That lately fell, Heard'st not thou some soft murmur cry? TAKE UP AND READ; obey, there is (If tho● canst open thy purged ear) High mysteries That can direct thy feet; thine eyesight clear. 5 Thou never took In hand an harder lesson, than Thou didst begin Prying the secrets of this book: For it will teach thee how to set, In paths that cannot tread awry, Thy wand'ring feet: And show thee where the source of bliss doth lie. EPIGRAM 7. Take up these leaves; within that little Room Lie endless depths; 'tis God's Autographum. The hardest Book, and easiest: which can give Death to the dying: Life to them that live. The unlearned rise and take heaven by violence; and we with our learning without affection, behold! where we wallow in flesh and blood! Aug. Conf. lib. 8. cap. 8. VAin curiosity! ye lead The mind in mazes, make her tread Aside, while that she toils and is not fed. O empty search! do I care If I can slice yond burning sphere To the least atoms, and yet near come there. Though I can number every flame That fleets within that glorious frame; Yet do not look on him that can them name. Though I can in my travelled mind The earth and all her treasures find Yet leaving pride swollen into hills behind. Though I can plum the sea, and try What monsters in her womb do lie; Yet ne'er a drop fall from my frozen eye. Am I the better, though I could All wisdom with a breath unfold, And a heart boundless as the Ocean hold? No not a whit unless that he By whom these glorious wonders be Led me and teach mine eyes himself to see. Yet may a modest ignorance Unto so great an height advance, And of such sparkling beauties gain a glance. He that's all wisdom does not care How full our teeming fancies are Of touring notions if our hearts be clear! They are but wildfires that remain With rolling flashes in the brain If that the heart thereby no heat doth gain. He is the wisest that doth know To whom he doth allegiance owe, To whom his rebel passions ought to bow. Who with a rude yet heedy eye His maker finds in every fly, And Treads to heaven by humility. Who with a watchful heediness An omnipresence doth confess; And not by cobweb Theorems express. Let others seek to know, they shall But into greater blindness fall; And ere their course be run know nought at all. Since what we know is but a gleam, That owes its lustre to a beam, Which from that infine spring of light doth stream. EPIGRAM 8. Each minute learn, and by that learning know The more thou clim'st, the more thou art below: Still let thy brain strength to thy heart dispense, And think the greatest wisdom's Innocence: 1 ● Lord behold my heart, which thou pitiedst in the bottomless pit. Aug. Conf. lib. 4. cap. 2. LOrd! dost thou see, This ruddy piece of clay how it doth fly Up towards thee! Ambitious of a sweet tranquillity! Within thy bosom, lo How speedily 't doth go? Feathered by active fire, Whereby it mounts and towers up higher Than its own grovelling thoughts could reach Before that thou didst teach, How doth it throw And leave below Those which wear shackles, but now trophies are? Oh how it flashes Reduced to ashes? Yet were alive till now. Those darts are medicines which destructive were And cut but beds for balm to flow ●●ilst the ascending day forgets 'twas ere below. 2 Yet this was once Grave to itself, bound in most potent chains (Corruptions) Whilst a child poison did congeal my veins, Which speckledtombestones were▪ Then durst no day appear But darkness shrouded all, And thick Egyptian damps did fall; I knew not I benighted was, Or else a night did cause Pleased that I lay Without a ray Till thou, (great world of light!) broke out 〈◊〉 the● My chains did fall, I that was all One issicle, became One tear, and now my veins ran blood against Take Lord what thou thyself didst frame And on thine Altar deign to cherish thine own fla●●▪ EPIGRAM 9 ●'me thine, and for my homage, take my heart 〈◊〉 'Tis, though a little, yet my greatest part (Which can as well not lie, as think) and say I give but what I cannot keep away. Who took me by the hand, and brought me out of that darkness wherewith I was in love? Aug. Soliloq. cap. 37. 1 Whilst sable bands of night did bind My drowsy mind; And my eyes useless were when day Was shrunk away: Whose was that ray That stole so kindly in and showed Glimpses of light again? both how Stars in their vaulted sea do flow, ●nd how the Sun's triumphant toils renewed. 2 Who was't that taught me deeds of night are mere deceit? And all the light she seems to set Are counterfeit: And if but met By smallest twinkle disapear: That, ways are then uncertain, and We can't in any surety stand disturbed, or by danger or by fear. 3 Who wrought upon me that great cure As to endure, Like th' royal eagle, with a strait And unmoved sight The flowing light? Who taught me joy? when that mine eyes Were more possessed with strengthened gleams Sent from associated beams: Who taught me failing shadows to despise? 4 Thou centre of all light! whom none Can look upon: Who when the world but new begun Didst give a sun With light to run: Thou! from whose sight no lurking cave No, nor the most retiring deep, Which the still reeling sea doth sweep, Lies hid; no, nor the secrets of the grave. 5 Thou! who canst stop the sun, and cause him soon to pause; O on this Scythian breast of mine Keep a strait line, And ne'er decline; That by degrees this grossness may That now attends me, be calcined To dust, and I from dregs refined Mounted upon thy love, may fly away. EPIGRAM 10. Let the sun cherish day, I cannot see The best approach of sight, unless through Thee: Yet Thee I cannot, though I labour still For Thou art Glory inaccessible. ●ebriate my heart, (Oh God with the sober intemperance of thy love Aug. Meditat. cap. 37. NOw love I all excess; now let me be An enemy to all sobriety! ●n the faint hart, whose nimble footing stray ●ong the devious forests all the day, ●●ilst that her foes as swift as lightning press ●ind, yet not so swift as merciless, ●d scorching heat her parched entrails dry ●●at in herself her greatest dangers lie; ●en she comes near cold streams, who as they pass 〈◊〉 with their silver footings clear the grass ●asure her thirst, but rather covets more ●e natural julip than she did before: ●s so with me (my God) but I have been ●sued with enemies that to lodge within; ●ose rage knows no regress, But boyles up higher ●e Arsenal, mine heart is set on fire, ●ich will devour until that ashes be ●e weak resisters of its cruelty. 〈◊〉 waters prove but fuel, nay the sea ●r'd on would only oil and sulphur be. 〈◊〉 shower thy rays upon it, (Lord!) & smother ●e violence of one flame by another; ●en to refresh me send cool showers, that may ●rease such potent fevers, and allay: ●solve those clouds that interpose, so shall ●alming tempests in my bosom fall: 〈◊〉 is my wasting out into the main That they may draw me to the shore again: But when I am on shore, oh how I gape Furrowed with clifted chinks; oh how I leap And fly asunder, that I nothing seem But one great ruin, when the fiery beam Of thy fierce wrath descendeth, and doth roll Hell's sad praeludium into my soul. But Thou, whose open side produced a flood As white as Crystal yet all stained with blood Drown me within those waters, let me lie Within that watery tomb, so shall I fly From death to life and all my ruins be Nothing but reparation by Thee. EPIGRAM. 11. ●e cheers the Heart of man; but love doth give ●e principles of life, and make it live. ●s else but carrion; or a freezing Sun; ●cending flames; wings without motion. 1 ●ove, when it comes doth captivate all the other affections, and draw them unto itself. Aug. Manual. cap. 18. Tyrannic love! whose active fires Plumes slow desires; And makes them swiftly taper up, Till flattering hope Struck them and win them to her breast, Though not to rest: Yet in that motion they close In some repose, ●s steel hover 'bove loadstones quiet grows. 2 Emperor of heart! who does dilate Her narrow state; That she outgrow's the earth aud's even As wide as heaven: Yet not so vast but thou art king, Thou central spring! From whom all passions first began To flow, and than ●evolve into thee, as their Ocean. 3 Tyrant o'th' soul who if thou please Her powers to raise, They triumph for to meet thee, and Take thy command: Thine who knit'st altogether here Yond azure sphere, This floating ball or what doth lie Open to the eye, All are conjoined by thy mystic tie. 4 Thou, who canst sweeten dangers, that We do not hate Their griffy visages, nor fear Their threats; but rear Our thoughts above all injury; Or if we lie But in thy fetters how we rove, And sore above! That's circle's infinite whose centre's love. EPIGRAM 12. What's love? what's God? Both the like greatness hold One is Omnipotent, the other would: ●oth are attractive and diffusive; yea ●od is himself but abstract charity. ●ord thou hast made me for thee, and my heart is unquiet till it Rest in thee. Aug. Conf. lib. 1. cap. 1. LOrd! what is man? 〈◊〉 mass of wonders clustered in a span: One who can tell ●he eye, yet his best part invisible, As great a piece ●f beauty, as wise nature can express: But who can find The uncontrolled swiftness of his mind? Howed can reflect ●pon itself, and by its intellect, When it shall please, ●lime highest mountains, plum the deepest seas: Or nimbly wind, ●o either pole, and see where all's calcined To save by heat Whom cold does all in glassy shackles set. Or ere the eye ●an turn itself, clamber the azure sky: Yet cannot she ●ind rest at all, till that she rest in thee, thou, who didst lay ●er active substance in the cell of clay; Yet hast endued ●nd decked her with thine own simil●● That there might be ●ome little ectypes of thy Majesty, Though he could chase Old time into his cradle, yea and trace Each planet as He through his azure circuit doth pass, And subtly eye How multiformious Meteors strangely fly: But can the heart Find any settlement? although all art Should court, and be Transformed into one great flattery? No, no, till thou Who art alone all fullness, sweetly flow Into 't and be The cause of hunger by society. Then may she rest In thee, who art her centre, and though pressed With sorrows even As low as hell, bounce up as high as Heaven. EPIGRAM 13. Can the earth dance? the Ocean fall asleep? Or can the thoughts of man their quiet keep, Till they be home from all their travels brought To him, who knows all wisdom at a thought? 1 ●ill pierce heaven with my mind, and be present with thee in my desires. Aug. Manual. cap. 14. Weak chains, bind flesh and blood, and tie Lethargic sense; You cannot impede me, when I fly Hurried away from hence ●u shall not clog me, but my raised flight Shall bring me to my wished for height. 2 Where am I now convaid? oh how My winged feet Spurn all those golden lamps that glow Beneath, with night beset! ●y (a strange pilgrim) I securely run In paths that lie above the sun. 3 Swell heart into a world and keep That humid sea: Become, my bosom, one great deep That it may lodge in Thee: ●●at glorious sun with his Celestial heat will warm't, and make't evaporate. 4 Springhead of life, how am I now Entombed in Thee? How do I since th' art pleased to flow, Hate a duality? How I am annihilated? yet by this Acknowledge my subsistence is 5 Still may I rise; still further clime Till that I lie (Having out-run-short-winded time) Swathed in Eternity: So may my youth spend and renew, so night Never alternate with my light. 6 But should my God withdraw awhile His glorious face Yet would not I myself beguile But with a strict embrace So closely join with him, that wheresoever He were, I would strive to be there. 7 Nay should he strike me down so low As hell, yet I Would grasp him: He is there I know: He in those depths doth lie So should I surfeit on all happiness; 'Tis solely heaven where he is. EPIGRAM 14. What is Man's body? clay, or lead his soul? The nimblest swiftest substance that can roll Itself ere thought; and by its power bring down, Or mount to heaven, and so make't its own. ●h thou fountain of life, let my thirsting soul drink of Thee. Aug. Med. cap. 37. Faint, I faint: these channels here Though they seem Crystal, run not clear; What nasty heaps of rubbish lie Within these waves? I die; I die; How bitter are they? poison's be Though fiercest, not so harsh as they: Yet have I drunk; but now a more Heat bake's my bowels then before. Oh! what an Aetna hath posse'st The feeble ruins of my breast? Howed falls to cinders? how I have My bosom turned into my grave! Go, go, my former loves! I will No more your false embraces fill. Wove robes of short lived Roses set, tilly's in bands of Violet: Rare clouds of Myrrh, that none may press To view your secret wantonness. Such fumes but choke me; nor have I Leisure to wanton ere I die. See how I breathe out ashes. 'Las! Does there no silver rillet pass That may assuage? would heaven bestow One welcome drop to cool me now! Oh for a Moses that would make This rock of mine dissolve and break To a clear stream where I might lie Exempt from all this misery, And bathe. Oh would some Angel sit And point me to a welcome pit. Thou spring of life run over me Thou centre of eternity, Enlive me once again, and show What thy unbounded power can do. Do but direct me and I'll fly Where all thy liquid treasures lie; More than may drench whole worlds; and bless Them with their quickening delugies When I have settled there, oh then I shall not know to thirst again. EPIGRAM 15. The living spring of life is cool; but yet Doth quench one, and beget a greater heat. Still satisfie's; yet leave's a thirst behind And is the sacred Bath and Spa o'th' mind. 1 Love doth repress the motions and withhold the slipperiness of youth. Aug. Manual. cap. 19 What is this life? A scene of strife; A theatre of sorrow; On which we play Perhaps to day ●ut break a limb to morrow: 2 Weak stage of Ice For flatteries To cheat and juggle on! Which vanish ere They can appear, And as they come, are gone. 3 What safety can Thou yield poor man? That tread's thee with such joy; What are the treasures Of all the pleasures Which ere they're tasted, cloy. 4 Then happy he That can be free By potent counter-charms: And nimbly leap And so escape Thy still approaching harms. 5 But all those whom Love hath ore ' come, Contemn thy Magic, and Do bravely flee Thy tyranny And in full freedom stand. 6 Oh happy mind That leave's behind Those things that creep below: And clamber's up By constant hope Where real pleasures flow. 7 Then youth no more Obtaines a power To cheat the roving sight; But reason crowned And so enthroned Doth solely bid what's right. EPIGRAM. 16. ●ince of the passions, royal Love! who, when Thou pleasest, canst thus metamorphize men: ●ust makes her vassals beasts: thou contrary, ●ake'st each heart where thou raigne'st a Deity. The Heart of man not fixed in desires of Eternity can neither be firm nor stable. Aug. Manual. cap. 25. YOu whose clear countenances do not know Assembling clouds and storms of woe, Whose golden streams of minutes sweetly run In an unalter'd motion, Who sit on shore, while other wretches be Ludibrium's of the raging sea, Who surfeit on what pleasures can behap, Who lull●blind fortune in your lap, Enjoying what wild fancy can invent: Pray! can you say you are content? Do not your labouring thoughts enlarge and still Grow far more empty as they fill Pray! what gradations make you? can you stand? How often do you countermand Ere you can think? and pray! is every thought Chained and in order brought? Could you with patience view those traverses wherewith your soul still moving is Did they lie open to the sun? or deem That ever you conceived them? Vast soul of man! who cannot find in thee A circumscribed infinity What can outrun thy swiftness? what can less Than swelling thee, brook emptiness. That if not filled, earth leaps, and gain's a room And so prevent's a Vacuum. But ramble still, and feed thy fury, groan, Cause there's no worlds but one. Thou dost but multiply thy cares and toss Like men amazed at a loss. Or like a crazy vessel which doth lie On th' drunken tyranny Of each insulting wave, whilst every blast Jussell's and threatens that her last. But were't thou freed from thy domestic harms And wound within thy Maker's arms, How would these twilights vanish, what a day will't instantly itself display: Then mightst thou prepossess thy heaven, and so In this thine exile happy grow. This is our jail, our night, till happy we Gain there, both day and liberty. EPIGRAM 17. ●an flames fly downward? can the earth ascend? ●an liquors separate? and dry things blend? ●is as unlikely that without a God ●he heart of man can find a period. 1 Mine enemy hath laid many nets for my feet, and filled all the way with ambushments. Hasten, can I view those eyes From whence there flies ●ch strong attractive beams; and stay Lingering i'th' way? ●hen thou canst soon deceive my toil 〈◊〉 the short magic of a smile. 2 ●irest of women! no: oh how Upon thy brow ●throniz'd bands of graces sit? How on thy white ●●me out bloodthirsty roses? which, 〈◊〉 Hemispheres, [thy cheeks] enrich. 3 〈◊〉 could I come! (how art thou dight With ambient light?) 〈◊〉 Phenix-like in her tomb-nest, Sleep on thy breast: 〈◊〉 from thy odorous bosom draw ●●ole snowy-clouds of Cassia. 4 But oh! what ambushments o'erspread The way I tread? How crooked are those paths of mine How serpentine! What ranks of peevish thorns beset My torn and more than weary feet? 5 But look how either side doth smile And would beguile; How all's with Amethysts beset; How negro-jet Mingle's with Alabaster? how The scattered Topasses do glow! 6 What virgins do on either hand Assailing stand? Whom could they not o'ercome. if none Thy face had known? Their beauty is but borrowed; thine Doth with a native lustre shine. 7 But I'll be blind, until I be Restored by thee: They are but shadows and are gone Ere they can run Into thy sight. Thy beauty shall Stand while the dying sun shall fall. EPIGRAM 18. ●rust not the world; when't smiles, it will betray, ●nd when secure, doth the most dangers lay: ●●t break her snares, and all her charm fly, 〈◊〉 th' art, at best, in splendid slavery. 〈◊〉 love which dost ever burn and art never extinguished, enlighten me with thy flames. Aug. Mannual. cap. 10. MY wishes cannot reach so far With empty towrings; as to rear ●ge piles of marble, that may rise ●●d fiercely emulate the skies: cannot wish me gardens, where terrestrial planets may appear, ●nd rise and set by courses: no, cannot all this madness know; ●●ght I bathe in Pactolus, swim 〈◊〉 yellow Tagus; might each limb ●●ale after it more Ore, then may ●●ng poverty on India: 〈◊〉 are not wish so high; yet are ●●y royal wishes higher far. 〈◊〉! could I, though the restless sun ●ould not his usual journey run, ●●y self supply his light, and rear within my heart a taper, far ●armer than his: but should he go ●s usual progress; I might flow ●ith double fires; but 'las! I wish ●●apes of impossibilities: 〈◊〉, whose disbanding members have shouldered themselves within the grave cannot get up, and walk; and knit ●●s limbs as they at first were set: Sure no! can I revive again My palsied heart, my frozen brain? What can my strength command them cease Their monstrous shake, and confess They were diseased; till thou display The powerful influence of thy ray. Alas! I cannot; till thou shine And fright away these clouds of mine I shall be darkened: come, oh come! Break in upon me, here's a room Thy subtle joys can pierce, and gain And entrance in the depths of men: Though we be all polluted, yet Thy viceroy doth rise and set Upon base thistles; and will close With weeds, as soon as any rose: Burn me, oh! burn me; so I shall Enjoy no meaner funeral Than the great world: and nimbly flee Uncloged with matter unto thee. EPIGRAM 19 ●●w monstrous are man's wishes? and how vain ●●w he doeth pray and then, unpray again? ●●at strange Chimeras does his fancy frame 〈◊〉 beg his ruin in a specious name? How shall we sing the Lords song in a strange land? Psal. 137. v. 4. Whilst by the reedy banks of aged Cam, My golden minutes softly went and came; Nothing was wanting to content; unless 〈◊〉 mind fit for to grasp such happiness: ●y wishes still were ratified, and still confirmed, nor had I any law but will; Whether severer thoughts my mind posse'st, ●nd freed her from her load of flesh, and dre'st ●er like herself, and carried her on high, beyond the narrow reach of thought or eye. Or if some serious follies called my away ●ow boldly and securely durst I stray. 〈◊〉 little from myself, that so I might ●eturn with the more spirit and delight. ●o have I seen a painter when his eyes ●ere wearied with intentive poring rise ●nd leave his curious labour, and refrain Till that his eyes might gather life again; Thus did I outrun time, nor did I know ●ow to complain that any hour went slow. ●ut nothing now at all remain's with me ●ut the sweet Torment of the Memory. ●ood in fruition's somewhat; lost, no more Than an half cured wound, or easy soar; ●r like a dose of Honey, when't doth fall ●pon the tongue sweet, and in th' stomach gall. But what divorced me from these pleasures say, Tell me (my Muse!) what ravished them away; Could not the silver Thames continue them? Or were thy mind and wishes not the same? Or didst thou climb too high, and so awake That monster envy which thy slumbers broke? Or didst thou find those faithless who lest ought▪ Or were thy great design's abortive brought? Or did thy sins, like pulleys, draw thee back, And make thy thoughts, so strongly bended, slack● What ere it is; now I am fallen, and now Under my care's must either break or bow; And that great Fabric of Leucenia, Which should to th' last of time my name conveigh● Must lie unperfit, and dismembered so, And be at most a monstrous Embryo! Nay my sublimer thoughts must stoop t' invent Some stratagems against famine and prevent Contempt [the worst of evils] and sharp cold. But whether run I? I let go my hold. Conquer thy sorrows Hall 'tis patience can Alone secure thee, though all sorrow's run At once upon thy head, 'tis fear alone That gives these scarecrow's arms; they else ha●● non He is a man whose resolution dares The worst of evil's, who commands his fears. Else what poor things we are? how weak? how blind Apt to be troubled by each wanton Wind. Nay man the best of creatures, is below The weakest of them, if he tremble so. EPIGRAM 20. What a mad thing is grief? should we devise To harm ourselves with other's injuries? And wound our hearts, with every sleight offence? When we may be shot-free by patience; EPIGRAM 20. What a mad thing is grief? should we devise To harm ourselves with other's injuries? And wound our hearts, with every slight offence? When we may be shot-free by patience; EMBLEMS With elegant Figures, not before published. By I. H. Esq Book II. — Ex frigore FLAMMA. LONDON Printed by ROGER DANIEL, Anno Dom. 1658. SPARKLES OF DIVINE LOVE. Book. II. — Ex frigore FLAMMA. Printed by Roger Daniel Printer to the University of Cambridge. 1648. SPARKLES OF DIVINE LOVE. 1 I am come a light into the world, and whosoever believeth in me shall not abide in darkness. John 12. v. 46. COnceive not, happy malcontent! although Thou standest below, But thy enlarged eye may freely rove, And soar above; Nay all that ambient Darkness clears the light Unto thy sight, And all those silver-streakes of light which were Seemingly hid before, do now appear. 2 Although the space of Heaven, which doth lie Before thine eye, Seems small; thy bulk's too little and unfit To measure it, What seems an inch will quickly unbeguile And prove a mile; Stars seem like spangles; but a tube let's see This massy globe of th' Earth 's far less than they. 3 Trust not from this thy sense with things that are Above her sphere; she's purblind, and at distance cannot see Things as they be, Reason may help, but not secure her: either May err together. Nothing more wild, and weak, and erring, than The reason of poor incollected man. 4 But faith, which seems to overthrow her quite, Set's her aright; And drawe's remotest objects home unto her; That what before Was small and too too bright she could not see; May now agree; Faith is the best prospective, they who rest Without her, seeing most, do see the least. EPIGRAM 1. ●●ey talk of kill monsters, 'lass! Faith is View her attempts) the greatest Hercules. 〈◊〉 things the most impossible doth know 〈◊〉 to believe, and that because th' are so. 〈◊〉 thou of little faith why didst thou doubt. Matth. 14. vers. 31. Dost thou behold, this little ball? These fleeting bubbles? this round toy? Which children well may play withal, And with a wanton breath destroy. Though it be small, upon it lies The spreading heavens contracted face; And the vast volume of the skies Designed in so straight a space. That sea of light, which sent forth streams And yet is inexhaustible And never poor) of golden beams Can on these lines his courses tell; Whether he towards the Crab doth roll, Or give's the Ram a fleece of gold, Whether we warmth in's presence feel Or in his absence biteing cold; There's near a lesser light but here (Whether 't be fixed or more unstaid) Doth in a feigned course appear And in its motion is displayed. Yet ne'er the less, doth every one (Uninterrupted undisturbed) Go in its former motion, Free, and no more than ever curbed: The sun gild's and benight's the moon; whom th' Ocean flatter's as before, And doth, where she'll lead him run, Nor are the planets wander more; They do not sure; and if thine eyes Discover what thou art within; That spirit which imprisoned lies What a vast essence will be seen? Stay her within the bounds of sense Imagination's infinite; But with that heavy load dispense, Then she can take a vaster flight; Nay grasp whole heaven, though it be Without all measure and all end; For in her strength and power be The greatest things to comprehend. EPIGRAM. 2. ●his globe has somewhat in't of every star, ●ans soul of each thing some small character, ●ow else could a pure intellect be seen ●o turn at any time, to any thing? 1 ●ho against hope, believed in hope. Rom. 4. vers. 18. HOw comes this crystal liquor, which before Crept through the aufractuous cavern of the earth, ●o mount aloft? and so directly soar ●s if ashamed of so mean a birth, And so would force itself among the clouds, From whenceit first ran down in woolley floods, 2 ●n wise Philosophy, which can reveal ●●to the sense most hidden mysteries; ●riddle this strange Theorem? and tell ●●ence such a hidden cause retired lies? 〈◊〉 nature such strange operation is As sometimes teacheth fools, & blinde's the wise. 3 ●●cause some sulphur lurks in privy veins, 〈◊〉 makes the wanton water boil above? 〈◊〉 doth the unconstant Ocean's trembling plain ●●s diurnal reflux hither move? ●nd forcing passage fill the springhead so ●hat the imprisoned waves do upward go; 4 What ere it is, learn (soul!) by this to scorn The poor and humble dwellings of the earth, Be on thy own wings, up to heaven born And gain rest there, where thou hadst first 〈◊〉 bi●● Although that here below thou think'st th' 〈◊〉 Thy freedoms but a glorious slavery. 5 Learn to believe impossibilities, (Such as are so to reason, not to hope) To pose thy sense, and contradict thine eyes To set in darkness, and in light to grope; Struggle with that, which doth least easy seen A little child can swim along the stream. 6 This is the way; heaven stands on high, and t●● Who would go thither, must be sure to climb Labour in this is easy, wh'ould not chose To gain a sceptre, with a wearied limb; Virtue is ever proudest in her toils And think's thick showers of sweat her grea● spoil EPIGRAM 3. 〈◊〉 the heavens thou wouldst thy sight direct, 〈◊〉 stubborn reason unto faith subject. 〈◊〉 canst thou else with humane mists dispense▪ 〈◊〉 reason sees but with the eyes of sense. 〈◊〉 ●as afraid lest thou wouldst hear me, and deliver me instantly from the disease of lust, which I rather wished might be satisfied. Aug. Conf. lib. 8. Cap. 7. 1 THe Ermine rather chose to die A Martyr of its purity, ●●en that one uncouth soil should slain 〈◊〉 hitherto preserved skin: 2 〈◊〉 thus resolved she thinks it good 〈◊〉 write her whiteness in her blood 〈◊〉 I had rather die, than e'er, continued from my soulness clear. 3 Nay I suppose by that I live That only doth destruction give. Madman I am, I turn mine Eye On every side, but what doth lie 4 Within I ●an no better find, Then if I ever had been blind. Is this the reason thou dost claim Thy sole prerogative, to frame 5 Engines again thyself? O fly Thyself as greatest enemy; And think thou sometimes life wilt get By a secure contemning it. EPIGRAM 6. ●ee how these poisonous passions gnaw & feed Upon the tortured heart in which they breed: And when (their poison spent) these Viper's die, The worm of conscience doth their room supply I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to the gates of the grave. Isa 38 10. MY Life is measured by this glass, this glass By all those little Sands that thorough pass. See how they press, see how they strive, which shall With greatest speed & greatest quickness fall. See how they raise a little Mount, and then With their own weight do level it again. But when th'have all got through, they give o'er Their nimble sliding down, and move no more. Just such is man, whose hours still forward run, Being almost finished ere they are begun. So perfect nothings, such light blasts are we, That ere weare aught at all, we cease to be. Do what we will, our hasty minutes fly; And while we sleep, what do we else but die? How transient are our Joys, how short their day! They creep on towards us, but fly away. How stinging are our sorrows! where they gain But the least footing, there they will remain. How groundless are our hopes! how they deceive Our childish thoughts, and only sorrow leave! How real are our fears! they blast us still, Still rend us, still with gnawing passions fill. How senseless are our wishes! yet how great! With what toil we pursue them, with what sweat! Yet most times for our hurts, so small we see, Like Children crying for some Mercury. This gapes for Marriage, yet his fickle head Knows not what cares wait on a marriagebed. This vows Virginity, yet knows not what Loneness, grief, discontent, attends that state Desires of wealth another's wishes hold: And yet how many have been choked with Gold? This only hunts for honour: yet who shall Ascend the higher, shall more wretched fall. This thirsts for knowledge: yet how is it bought With many a sleepless night & racking thought This needs will travel: yet how dangers lay Most secret Ambuscado's in the way? These triumph in their Beauty, though it shall Like a plucked Rose or fading Lily fall. Another boasts strong arms: alas Giants have By silly Dwarves been dragged unto their grave. These ruffle in rich silk: though ne'er so gay, A well plumed Peacock is more gay than they. Poor man, what art? a Tennis-ball of Error; A ship of Glass tossed in a Sea of terror: Issuing in blood and sorrow from the womb, Crawling in tears and mourning to the tomb. How slippery are thy paths, how sure thy fall? How art thou nothing when thouart most of all? EPIGRAM 7. ●hus the small sands within their Crystal glide, ●nd into moment's times extent divide; ●ll man himself into like dust return. ●●e young man's hour▪ glass is the old man's Urn. ●●de 4, 15. The Lord cometh with ten thousand of his Saints to execute judgement upon all. Hear and tremble! Lord, what shall I do I avoid thy anger, whether shall I go? ●hat, shall I scale the Mountains? alas they be ●●re less than Atoms if compared with thee. ●hat, shall I strive to get myself a Tomb, within the greedy Ocean's swelling Womb? ●all I dive into Rocks? where shall I fly ●●e sure discovery of thy piercing Eye? ●as I know not; though with many a tear Hell they moon thy absence, thou art there. ●ou art on Earth, and well observest all 〈◊〉 actions acted on this massy Ball: 〈◊〉 when thou look'st on mine, what can I say? ●●re not stand, nor can I run away ●●ine eyes are pure and cannot look upon ●nd what else, Lord, am I?) Corruption. ●ou hatest sins, and if thou once begin ●east me in the Scales, I all am sin. ●ou still continu'st one, O Lord; I range ●arious forms of crimes, and love my change. ●●d, thou that mad'st me, bid'st I should present 〈◊〉 heart unto thee: O see how it's rend ovarious Monsters; see how fastly held, 〈◊〉 stubbornly they do deny to yield. 〈◊〉 shall I stand, when that thou shalt be hurled Clouds, in robes of fire to Judge the world, Ushered with golden Legions, in thine Eye Carrying an all enraged Majesty, That shall the Earth into a Palsy stroke, And make the Clouds sigh out themselves smoak How can I stand? yes, Lord, I may: although Thou be'st the Judge, thou art a party too. Thou suffered'st for these faults, for which thou sh●● Arraign me; Lord, thou suffered'st for them all They are not mine at all: these wounds of thi●● That on thy glorious side so brightly shine, Sealed me a pardon: in those wounds theyare hi● And in that side of thine theyare buried. Lord, smile again upon us: with what grace Doth mercy sit enthronised on thy face? How did that scarlet sweat become thee when That sweat did wash away the filth of men? How did those peevish thorns adorn thy bro●● Each thorn more richly than a Gem did glo● Yet by those thorns (Lord, how thy love abound Are we poor worms made capable of Crown Come so to Judgement, Lord: th' Apostles 〈◊〉 No more into their drowsy slumber fall, But stand and hearken how the Judge shall say Come come, my Lambs, to Joy, come come aw●● FINIS. EPIGRAM 8. 〈◊〉 the first Trumpet sounding shall disperse 〈◊〉 terror through the fainting universe. 〈◊〉 who that Thunder would undaunted bear, 〈◊〉 often be acquainted with it here. FINIS.