Hieroglyphikes of the life of man. Fra: Quarles Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644. This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A10263 of text S115518 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 20548). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. This text has not been fully proofread Approx. 52 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 33 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. EarlyPrint Project Evanston,IL, Notre Dame, IN, St. Louis, MO 2017 A10263 STC 20548 ESTC S115518 99850737 99850737 15962 2240850325

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal . The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A10263) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 15962) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 934:2) Hieroglyphikes of the life of man. Fra: Quarles Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644. Marshall, William, fl. 1617-1650, engraver. [8], 61, [3] p. : ill. (metal cuts) Printed by M. Flesher, for Iohn Marriot, London : 1638. In verse. The title page is engraved except for the imprint. The first leaf and the last leaf are blank. The second leaf bears "The minde of the frontispeece" and license statement. Thirteen of the fifteen engravings are signed "Will. Marshall. sculpsit"; title page and remaining two engravings are unsigned. Variant: illustrations of hierogliphs VII and X (C1v and C7v) interchanged; error corrected by cancel slips. Reproduction of the original in the British Library. eng Emblem books -- Early works to 1800. eebo no Hieroglyphikes of the life of man. Fra: Quarles Quarles, Francis, (1592-1644.) 1638 50 8512 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.00 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. 2002-03 Assigned for keying and markup 2002-04 Keyed and coded from ProQuest page images 2002-05 Sampled and proofread 2002-05 Text and markup reviewed and edited 2002-06 Batch review (QC) and XML conversion University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign, 6073180
The minde of the Frontispeece . This Bubble's Man : Hope , Feare , False Ioy and Trouble , Are those Foure Winds which daily toss this Bubble .

Hieroglyphica haec de vitâ hominis perlegi , & digna censeo quae typis mandentur .

Ian. 9. 1637. Tho: Wykes R. P. Episc. Lond. Capell . domest.

Hieroglyphikes of the life of Man .

LONDON , Printed by M. Flesher , for Iohn Marriot . 1638.

TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE both in blood and virtue ; and most accomplisht LADIE , MARY , COVNTESS OF DORSET ; LADY GOVERNESS to the most Illustrious , CHARLES , Prince of great BRITAIN , and IAMES , Duke of YORKE . Excellent Lady ,

I Present these Tapours to burne under the safe Protection of your honorable Name : where , I presume , they stand secure from the Damps of Ignorance , and blasts of Censure : It is a small part of that abundant service , which my thankfull heart owes your incomparable Goodness . Be pleased to honour it with your noble Acceptance , which shall bee nothing but what your owne esteeme shall make it

Madam Your La pps . most humble servant FRA : QUARLES .
To The Reader .

IF you are satisfied with my Emblems , I here set before you a second service . It is an Aegyptian dish , drest on the English fashion : They , at their Feasts , used to present a Deaths-head at their second course ; This will serve for both : You need not feare a surfet : Here is but little ; And that , light of digestion : If it but please your Palate , I question not your stomack : Fall too ; and much good may 't doe you .

Covivio addit Minerval . E. B. Rem , Regem , Regimen , Regionem , Relligionem , Exornat , celebrat , laudat , honorat , amat . BENEVOLUS .
Sine Lumine inane .
Behold I was shapen in Iniquity , and in sin did my mother conceive me . PSAL. 51. 5. MAn is mans ABC : There is none that can Reade God aright , unless he first spell Man : Man is the Stayres , whereby his knowledge climes To his Creator ; though it oftentimes Stumbles for want of light , and sometimes tripps For want of carefull heed ; and sometimes slips Through unadvised hast ; and when at length His weary steps have reach'd the top , his strength Oft fayles to stand ; his giddy braines turne round , And Phaëton like , falls headlong to the ground : These stayres are often darke , and full of danger To him whom want of practice makes a stranger To this blind way : The Lamp of nature lends But a false Light ; and lights to her owne ends : These be the wayes to Heav'n ; These paths require A Light that springs from that diviner fire Whose humane soule-enlightning sunbeames dart Through the bright Crannies of th' immortall part . And here , thou great Originall of Light , Whose error-chaceing Beames do unbenight The very soule of Darkness , and untwist The Clouds of Ignorance ; do thou assist My feeble Quill ; Reflect thy sacred Rayes Vpon these lines , that they may light the wayes That lead to thee ; So guide my heart , my hand , That I may doe , what others understand : Let my heart practice what my hand shall write ; Till then , I am a Tapour wanting light . This golden Precept , Know thy selfe , came downe From heav'ns high Court ; It was an Art unknowne To flesh and blood . The men of Nature tooke Great Iournies in it ; Their dim eyes did looke But through a Mist ; Like Pilgrims they did spend Their idle steps , but knew no Iournies end : The way to Know thy selfe , is first to cast Thy fraile beginning , Progresse , and thy Last : This is the Summe of Man : But now returne And view this Tapour standing in this Vrne : Behold her Substance , sordid , and impure , Vseless and vaine , and ( wanting light ) obscure : T is but a Span at longest , nor can last Beyond that Span ; ordain'd , and made to wast : Ev'n such was Man ( before his soule gave light To his vile substance ) a meere Child of night ; Ere he had life , estated in his Vrne , And markt for death ; by nature , borne to burne : Thus liveless , lightless , worthless first began That glorious , that presumptuous thing , call'd Man .
St. AUGUST .

Consider ô man what thou wert before thy Birth , and what thou wert from thy birth to thy death , and what thou shall be after death : Thou wert made of an impure substance , cloathed and nourished in thy Mothers blood .

EPIG. 1. Forbeare fond Tapour : What thou seek'st , is Fire : Thy owne distruction's lodg'd in thy desire : Thy wants are farre more safe than their supply : He that begins to live , begins to die .
Nescius vnde .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

And God said , Let there bee light ; and there was light . GEN. 1. 3. THis flame-expecting Tapour hath , at length , Received fyre ; and , now , begins to burne : It hath no vigour yet , it hath no strength ; Apt to be puft and quencht at ev'ry turne : It was a gracious hand that thus endow'd This snuffe with flame : But marke , this hand doth shroud It selfe from mortall eyes , and folds it in a Cloud . 2. Thus man begins to live ; An unknowne flame Quickens his finisht Organs ; now , possest With motion ; and which motion doth proclaime An active soule , though in a feeble brest : But how , and when infus'd , ask not my Pen ; Here flyes a Cloud before the eyes of men : I can not tell thee , how ; nor canst thou tell mee , when . 3. Was it a parcell of celestiall fire , Infus'd , by Heav'n , into this fleshly mould ? Or was it ( thinke you ) made a soule entire ? Then ; was it new created ? Or of old ? Or is 't a propagated Spark , rak'd out From Natures embers ? While we goe about . reason , to resolve , the more we raise a doubt . 4. If it be part of that celestiall Flame , It must be ev'n as pure , as free from spot As that eternall fountaine whence it came : If pure , and spotless ; then , whence came the blot ? It selfe , being pure , could not it selfe defile ; Nor hath unactive Matter pow'r to soile Her pure and active Forme , as Iarrs corrupt their Oyle . 5. Or , if it were created , tell me , when ? If in the first sixe dayes , where kept till now ? Or , if the soule were new created , then Heav'n did not all , at first , he had to doe : Six dayes expired , all Creation ceast , All kinds , even from the greatest to the least Were finisht , and compleat , before the day of Rest. 6. But why should Man , the Lord of Creatures , want That priviledge which Plants and Beasts obtaine ? Beasts bring forth Beasts , the Plant a perfect Plant ; And every like brings forth her like againe : Shall fowles , and fishes , beasts and plants convey Life to their issue ? And Man lesse than they ? Shall these get living soules ? And Man , dead lumps of clay 7. Must humane soules be generated then ? My water ebbs ; behold , a Rock is nigh : If Natures worke produce the soules of men , Mans soule is mortall : All that 's borne must die . What shall we then conclude ? What sun-shine will Disperse this gloomy cloud ? Till then , be still , My vainely striving thoughts ; Lie down , my puzzl'd quill .
ISODOR .

Why doest thou wonder , ô man , at the height of the Starres ? or the depth of the Sea ? Enter into thine owne soule , and wonder there .

The soule by creating is infused ; by infusion , created .

EPIG. 2. What art thou now the better by this flame ? Thou knowst not how , nor when , nor whence it came : Poore kind of happiness , that can returne No more accompt but this , to say , I burne !
Quo me cunque rapit .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

The wind passeth over it and it is gone . PSAL. 103. 16. NO sooner is this lighted Tapour set Vpon the transitory Stage Of eye-bedarkning night , But it is straight subjected to the threat Of envious windes , whose wastfull rage Disturbs her peacefull light , And makes her substance wast , and makes her flame lesse bright . 2. No sooner are we borne , no sooner come To take possession of this vast , This soule-afflicting earth ; But Danger meets us at the very wombe , And Sorrow with her full mouthd blast , Salutes our painefull birth , To put out all our Ioyes , and puffe out all our mirth . 3. Nor Infant Innocence , nor childish teares , Nor youthfull wit , nor manly power , Nor politick old age , Nor virgins pleading , nor the widows prayers , Nor lowely Cell , nor lofty Tower , Nor Prince , nor Peere , nor Page Can scape this common blast , or curb her stormy rage . 4. Our life is but a pilgrimage of blasts ; And ev'ry blast brings forth a feare ; And ev'ry feare , a death ; The more it lengthens , ah , the more it wasts : Were , were we to continue here The dayes of long lif'd Seth , Our sorrowes would renew , as we renew our breath : 5. Tost too and fro , our frighted thoughts are driv'n With ev'ry puffe , with every Tide Of self-consuming Care ; Our peacefull flame , that would point up to heav'n , Is still disturb'd , and turnd aside ; And ev'ry blast of Ayre Commits such wast in man , as man can not repaire . 6. W' are all borne Detters , and we firmely stand Oblig'd for our first Parents Det , Besides our Interest ; Alas we have no harmeless Counterband , And we are , ev'ry hou'r , beset With threatnings of Arrest , And till we pay the Det , we can expect no Rest. 7. What may this sorrow-shaken life present To the false relish of our Tast , That 's worth the name of sweet ? Her minits pleasure's choakt with discontent , Her glory foyld with ev'ry blast ; How many dangers meet Poore man , betwixt the Biggin and the Winding sheet !
St. AUGUST .

In this world , not to bee grieved , not to bee afflicted , not to bee in danger , is impossible .

Ibid.

Behold ; the world is full of troubles ; yet , beloved ; What if it were a pleasing world ? How wouldst thou delight in her Calmes , that canst so well endure her stormes ?

EPIG. 3. Art thou consum'd with soule-afflicting crosses ? Disturb'd with griefe ? annoy'd with worldly losses Hold up thy head ; The Tapour lifted high Will brook the wind , when lower Tapors dye .
Curando Labascit .
The whole need not the Physitian . MAT. 9. 12. ALwaies pruning ? alwaies cropping ? Is her brightnesse still obscur'd ? Ever dressing ? ever topping ? Alwaies cureing ? never cur'd ? Too much snuffing makes a waste ; When the spirits spend too fast , They will shrinke at ev'ry blast . 2. You that alwaies are bestowing Costly paines in lifes repairing , Are but alwaies overthrowing Natures worke , by overcaring : Nature meeting with her Foe , In a work she hath to doe , Takes a pride to overthrow . 3 Nature knowes her owne perfection , And her pride disdaines a Tutor , Cannot stoope to Arts correction , And she scornes a Coadjutor ; Saucy Art should not appeare Till she whisper in her eare : Hagar flees , if Sara beare . 4 Nature worketh for the better , If not hindred , that she cannot ; Art stands by as her A bettor , Ending nothing she began not ; If distemper chance to seize , ( Nature foyl'd with the disease ) Art may helpe her if she please . 5. But to make a Trade of trying Drugs , and Dosies , always pruning . Is to dye , for feare of dying ; Hee 's untun'd , that s alwaies tuneing . He that often loves to lack Deare bought Drugs , has found a Knack To foyle the man , and feede the Quack . 6. O the sad , the fraile Condition Of the pride of Natures glory ! How infirme his Composition ! And , at best , how Transitory ! When his Ryot doth impayre Natures weakness , then his care Adds more ruine , by repaire . 7. Hold thy hand , healths Deare maintainer , Life perchance may burne the stronger : Having substance to sustaine her , She , untoucht , may last the longer : When the Artist goes about To redress her flame , I doubt , Oftentimes he snuffes it out .
NICOCLES

Physitians of all men are most happy ; what good successe soever they have , the world proclaimes , and what faults they commit , the earth covers .

EPIG. 4. My purse be'ng heavy , if my Light appeare But Dimme , Quack comes to make all cleare ; Quack , leave thy trade ; Thy Dealings are not right , Thou tak'st our weighty gold , to give us light .
Te auxiliante resurgo .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

And hee will give his Angels charge over thee . PSAL. 91. O How mine eyes could please themselves , and spend Perpetuall Ages in this precious sight ! How I could woo Eternity , to lend My wasting day an Antidote for night ! And how my flesh could with my flesh contend , That views this object with no more delight ! My work is great , my Tapour spends too fast : 'T is all I have , and soone would out , or wast , Did not this blessed Screene protect it from this blast . 2 O , I have lost the Iewell of my soule , And I must finde it out or I must dye : Alas ! my sin-made darkness doth controule The bright endeavours of my carefull eye : I must goe search , and ransack ev'ry hole ; Nor have I other light to seek it by : O if this light be spent my work not done , My labour 's worse than lost ; my Iewel 's gone , And I am quite forlorne , and I am quite undone . 3. You blessed Angels , you that doe enjoy The full fruition of eternall Glory , Will you be pleas'd to fancy such a Toy As man , and quit your glorious Territory , And stoop to earth , vouchsafing to imploy Your cares to guard the dust that lies before yee ? Disdaine you not these lumps of dying Clay , That , for your paines , doe oftentimes repay Neglect , if not disdaine , and send you griev'd away ? This Tapour of our lifes , that once was plac'd In the faire Suburbs of Eternity , Is now , alas , confin'd to ev'ry blast , And turn'd a May-pole for the sporting Fly ; And will you , sacred Spirits , please to cast Your care on us , and lend a gracious eye ? How had this slender Inch of Tapour beene Blasted , and blaz'd , had not this heav'nly Screene Curb'd the proud blast , and timely stept betweene ! 5. O Goodness , farre transcending the report Of lavish tongues ! too vast to comprehend ! Amazed Quill , how farre dost thou come short T' express expressions , that so farre transcend ! You blessed Courtiers of th' eternall Court , Whose full-mouth'd Hallelujahs have no end , Receive that world of praises that belongs To your great Sov'raigne ; fill your holy tongues With our Hosannas , mixt with your Seraphick Songs .
St. BERN.

If thou desirest the helpe of Angels , flee the comforts of the world , and resist the Temptations of the Devill .

He will give his Angels charge over thee ? O what reverence , what love , what confidence deserves so sweet a saying ? For their presence , reverence ; for their good will , love ; for their tuition , confidence .

EPIG. 5. My flame , art thou disturb'd , diseas'd , and driv'n To Death with stormes of griefe ? Poynt thou to heav'n : One Angel , there , shall ease thee more , alone , Then thrice as many thousands of thy owne .
Tempus erit .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

To every thing there is an appointed time . ECCLES. 3. 1. Time . Death . Time . BEhold the frailty of this slender snuffe ; Alas it hath not long to last : Without the helpe of either Thiefe , or puffe , Her weakness knowes the way to wast : Nature hath made her Substance apt enough To spend it selfe , and spend too fast : It needs the help of none , That is so prone To lauish out , untoucht ; and languish all alone . Death . 2. Time , hold thy peace , and shake thy slow pac'd Sand ; Thy idle Minits make no way : Thy glass exceeds her how'r , or else does stand , I can not hold ; I can not stay ; Surcease thy pleading , and enlarge my hand I surfet with too long delay : This brisk , this boldfac'd Light Does burne too bright ; Darkness adornes my throne ; my day is darkest night . Time . 3. Great Prince of darknesse , hold thy needless hand ; Thy Captiv's fast , and can not flee : What arme can rescue ? Who can countermand , What pow'r can set thy Pris'ner free ? Or if they could , what close , what forrein land Can hide that head , that flees from Thee ? But if her harmeless light Offend thy sight , What needst thou snatch at noone , what will be thine at night ? Death . 4. I have outstaid my patience ; My quick Trade Growes dull and makes too slow returne : This long-liv'd det is due , and should bin paid When first her flame began to burne : But I have staid too long , I have delayd To store my vast , my craving Vrne . My Patent gives me pow'r , Each day , each how'r , To strike the Peasants thatch , and shake the Princely Tow'r . Time . 5. Thou count'st too fast : Thy Patent gives no Pow'r Till Time shall please to say , Amen . Death . Canst thou appoint my shaft ? Time . Or thou my How'r Death . T is I bid , doe : Time . T is I bid , When. Alas , thou canst not make the poorest Flow'r To hang the drooping head , till then : Thy shafts can neither Kill , Nor strike , untill My power give them wings , and pleasure arme thy will .
St. AUGUST .

Thou knowest not what Time he will come : Wait alwaies , that because thou knowest not the time of his comming , thou maiest be prepared against the time he comes . And for this , perchance , thou knowst not the Time , because thou maiest , be prepared against all times .

EPIG. 6. Expect , but feare not Death : Death cannot Kill , Till Time . ( that first must seale her Patent ) will : Wouldst thou live long ? Keepe Time in high esteeme ; Whom , gone , if thou canst not recall , redeeme .
Nec sine , nec Tecum .

Will Marshall sculpsit

His light shall be dark , and his candle shall be put out . IOB 18. 6. WHat ayles our Tapour ? Is her luster fled , Or foyl'd ? What dire disaster bred This Change ? that thus she vailes her golden head ? 2. It was but very now , she shin'd as faire As Venus starre : Her glory might compare With Cynthia , burnisht with her brothers haire . 3. There was no Cave-begotten damp that mought Abuse her beames ; no wind , that went about To breake her peace ; no Puffe , to put her out . 4. Lift up thy wondring thoughts , and thou shalt spye A Cause , will cleare thy doubts , but cloud thine eye : Subjects must vaile , when as their Sov'raign's by . 5. Canst thou behold bright Phoebus , and thy sight No whit impayr'd ? The object is too bright ; The weaker yeelds unto the stronger Light . 6. Great God , I am thy Tapour ; Thou , my Sunne ; From thee , the Spring of Light , my Light begun , Yet if thy Light but Shine , my light is done . 7. If thou withdraw thy Light , my light will shine , If thine appeare , how poore a light is mine ! My light is darkness , if compar'd to thine . 8 Thy Sun-beames are too strong for my weake eye ; If thou but shine , how nothing , Lord , am I ! Ah , who can see thy visage , and not die ! 9. If intervening earth should make a night , My wanton flame would then shine forth too bright ; My earth would ev'n presume t' eclipse thy Light . 10 And if thy Light be shadow'd , and mine fade , If thine be dark , and my dark light decayd , I should be cloathed with a double shade . 11. What shall I doe ? O what shall I desire ? What help can my distracted thoughts require , That thus am wasting twixt a double Fire ? 12. In what a streight , in what a streight am I ? Twixt two extreames how my rackt fortunes lie ? See I thy face , or see it not , I die . 13. O let the steame of my Redeemers blood , That breaths fro' my sick soule , be made a Cloud , T'interpose these Lights , and be my shroud . 14. Lord , what am I ? or what 's the light I have ? May it but light my Ashes to their Grave , And so from thence , to Thee ? 't is all I crave . 15. O make my Light , that all the world may see Thy Glory by 't : If not , It seemes to me Honour enough , to be put out by Thee .

O Light inaccessible , in respect of which my light is utter darkness ; so reflect upon my weaknes , that at all the world may behold thy strength : O Majesty incomprehensible , in respect of which my glory is meere shame , so shine upon my misery that all the world may behold thy glory .

EPIG. 7. Wilt thou complaine , because thou art bereiv'n Of all thy light ? Wilt thou vie Lights with Heav'n ? Can thy bright eye not brooke the daily light ? Take heed : I feare , thou art a Child of night .
Nec Virtus obscurapetit .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

Let your light so shine , that men seeing your good workes may glorifie your Father which is in Heaven . MAT. 5. 16. WAs it for this , the breath of Heav'n was blowne Into the nostrils of this Heav'nly Creature ? Was it for this , that sacred Three in One Conspir'd to make this Quintessence of Nature ? Did heav'nly Providence intend So rare a Fabrick for so poore an end ? 2. Was Man , the highest Master-peece of Nature , The curious Abstract of the whole Creation , Whose soule was copied from his great Creator , Made to give Light , and set for Observation , Ordain'd for this ? To spend his Light In a darke-Lanthorne ? Cloystred up in night ? 3. Tell me , recluse Monastick , can it be A disadvantage to thy beames to shine ? A thousand Tapours may gaine light from Thee : Is thy Lightless , or worse for lighting mine ? If , wanting Light , I stumble , shall Thy darkness not be guilty of my fall ? 4. Why dost thou lurk so close ? Is it for feare Some busie eye should pry into thy flame , And spie a Thiefe , or else some blemish there ? Or being spy'd , shrink'st thou thy head for shame ? Come , come , fond Tapour shine but cleare , Thou needst not shrink for shame , nor shroud for feare . 5. Remember , O remember , thou wert set , For men to see the Great Creator by ; Thy flame is not thy owne : It is a Det Thou ow'st thy Maker ; And wilt thou deny To pay the Int'rest of thy Light ? And skulk in Corners , and play least in sight ? 6. Art thou affraid to trust thy easie flame To the injurious wast of Fortunes puffe ? Ah , Coward , rouze ; and quit thy selfe , for shame ; Who dies in service , hath liv'd long enough : Who shines , and makes no eye partaker , Vsurps himselfe , and closely robbs his Maker . 7. Take not thy selfe a Pris'ner , that art free : Why dost thou turne thy Palace to a Iaile ? Thou art an Eagle ; And befits it thee To live immured , like a cloysterd Snaile ? Let Toies seeke Corners : Things of cost Gaine worth by view : Hid Iewels are but lost . 8. My God , my light is dark enough at lightest , Encrease her flame , and give her strength to shine : T is fraile at best : T is dimme enough at brightest , But 't is her glory to be foyld by Thine . Let others lurke ; My light shall be Propos'd to all men ; and by them , to Thee .
St. BERN.

If thou be one of the foolish Virgins , the Congregation is necessary for thee ; If thou be one of the wise Virgins , thou art necessary for the Congregation .

HUGO .

Monasticks make cloysters to inclose the outward man , O would to God they would doe the like to restraine the inward Man .

EPIG. 8. Affraid of eyes ? What still play least in sight ? T is much to be presum'd all is not right : Too close endeavours , bring forth dark events : Come forth , Monastick ; Here 's no Parliaments .
Vt Luna Infantia torpet

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

He cometh forth like a Flower and is cut downe . IOB 14. 2. 1. Behold How short a span Was long enough , of old , To measure out the life of Man ! In those wel temper'd days his time was then Survey'd , cast up , and found but threescore years and ten . 2. Alas And what is that ? They come & slide and pass Before my Pen can tell thee , what . The Posts of Time are swift , which having run Their sev'n short stages 'ore , their short liv'd task is don . 3. Our daies Begun , wee lend To sleepe , to antick plaies And Toyes , untill the first stage end : 12. waining Moons , twise 5. times told , we give To unrecover'd loss : Wee rather breathe , then live . 4. Wee spend A ten years breath , Before wee apprehend What is to live , or feare a death : Our childish dreams are fil'd with painted joys , Which please our sense a while ; & waking , prove but Toies . 5. How vaine , How wretched is Poore man , that doth remain A slave to such a State as this ! His daies are short , at longest ; few , at most ; They are but bad , at best ; yet lavisht out , or lost . 6. They bee The secret Springs , That make our minits flee On wheels more swift than Eagles wings : Our life 's a Clocke , and ev'ry gaspe of breath Breathes forth a warning grief , til Time shal strike a death 7. How soone Our new-born Light Attaines to full-ag'd noone ! And this , how soon to gray-hayr'd night ! Wee spring , we bud , we blossome , and we blast E're we can count our daies ; Our daies they flee so fast . 8. They end When scarce begun ; And ere wee apprehend That we begin to live , our life is don : Man , Count thy daies ; And if they flee too fast For thy dull thoughts to count , count ev'rie day thy last .

Our Infancy is consumtd in eating and sleeping ; in all which time what differ we from beasts , but by a possibility of reason , and a necessity of sinne ?

O misery of mankind , in whom no sooner the Image of God appeares in the act of his Reason , but the Devill blurres it in the corruption of his will !

EPIG. 9. To the decrepit Man . Thus was the first seav'nth part of thy few daies Consum'd in sleep , in food , in Toyish plaies : Knowst thou what teares thine eies imparted then ? Review thy losse , and weep them o're agen .
Proles tua , Maia , Iuventus .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

His bones are full of the sinnes of his youth . IOB 20. 11. 1. THe swift-foot Post of Time hath now begun His second Stage ; The dawning of our Age Is lost and spent without a Sun : The light of Reason did not yet appeare Within th' Horizon of this Hemispheare . 2. The infant Will had yet none other guide , But twilight Sense ; And what is gayn'd from thence But doubtfull Steps , that tread aside ? Reason now draws her Curtains ; Her clos'd eyes Begin to open , and she calls to rise . 3. Youths now disclosing Bud peeps out , and showes Her Aprill head ; And from her grass greene bed , Her virgin Primerose early blowes ; Whil'st waking Philomel prepares to sing Her warbling Sonets to the wanton Spring . 4. His Stage is pleasant , and the way seemes short , All strow'd with flowers ; The daies appeare but howers , Being spent in time-beguiling sport . Here griefes do neither press , nor doubts perplex ; Here 's neither feare , to curb ; nor care , to vex . His downie Cheek growes proud , and now disdaines The Tutors hand ; He glories to command The proud neckt Steed with prouder Reynes : The strong breath'd Horne must now salute his eare , With the glad downefall of the falling Deare . 6. His quicknos'd Armie , with their deepmouth'd sounds , Must now prepare To chase the tim'rous Hare About his , yet unmorgag'd , Grounds ; The ev'll he hates , is Counsell , and delay , And feares no mischief , but a rainie day . 7. The thought he takes , is how to take no thought For bale , nor blisse ; And late Repentance is The last deare Pen' worth that he bought : He is a daintie Morning , and he may , If lust ' orecast him not , b' as faire a Day . 8. Proud Blossom , use thy Time ; Times headstrong Horse Will post away ; Trust not the foll'wing day , For ev'rie day brings forth a worse : Take Time at best : Beleeve 't , thy daies will fall From good , to bad ; From bad , to worst of all .
St. AMB.

Humility is a rore thing in a young man , therefore to be admired : When youth is vigorous , when strength is firme , when blood is hot , when Cares are strangers , when mirth is free , then Pride swells , and humility is dispised .

EPIG. 10. To the old Man . Thy yeares are newly gray ; His , newly Greene ; His youth may live to see what thine hath seene : Hee is thy Parallel : His present Stage And thine , are the two Tropicks of Mans Age.
Iam ruit in Venerem .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

Rejoyce O young man , and let thy heart cheare thee , but know , &c. ECCLES. 11. 9. HOw flux ! how alterable is the date Of transitory things ! How hurry'd on the clipping wings Of Time , and driv'n upon the wheeles of Fate ! How one Condition brings The leading Prologue to an other State ! No transitory thing can last : Change waits on Time ; and Time is wing'd with hast ; Time present's but the Ruins of Time past . 2. Behold how Change hath incht away thy Span , And how thy light does burne Nearer and nearer to thy Vrne : For this deare wast what satisfaction can Injurious time returne Thy shortned daies , but this ; the Stile of Man ? And what 's a Man ? A cask of Care , New tunn'd , and working ; Hee 's a middle Staire Twixt birth and death ; A blast of ful ag'd Ayre . 3. His brest is Tinder , apt to entertaine The sparks of Cupids fire , Whose new-blowne flames must now enquire A wanton Iuilippe out , which may restraine The Rage of his desire , Whose painfull pleasure is but pleasing paine . His life 's a sicknes , that doth rise From a hot Liver , whilst his passion lies Expecting Cordials from his Mistress eyes . 4. His Stage is strowd with Thornes , and deckt with Flowers ; His yeare sometimes appeares A Minit ; and his Minits , yeares ; His doubtfull Weather's sun-shine , mixt with showers ; His traffique , Hopes and Feares : His life 's a Medly , made of sweets and sowers ; His paines reward is Smiles , and Pouts ; His diet is faire language mixt with Flouts ; He is a Nothing all compos'd of Doubts . 5. Doe ; wast thy Inch , proud Span of living earth ; Consume thy golden daies In slavish freedome ; Let thy waies Take best advantage of thy frolick mirth ; Thy Stock of Time decaies ; And lavish plenty still foreruns a Dearth : The bird that 's flowne may turne at last ; And painefull labour may repaire a wast ; But paines nor price can call thy minits past .
SEN.

Expect great joy when thou shalt lay downe the mind of a Child , and deserve the stile of a wise man ; for at those yeares childhood is past , but oftentimes child shness remaines , and what is worse , thou hast the Authority of a Man , but the vices of a Childe .

EPIG. 11. To the declining Man , Why standst thou discontented ? Is not he As equall distant from the Toppe as thee ? What then may cause thy discontented frowne ? Hee 's mounting up the Hill ; Thou plodding downe ?
Vt Sol ardore Virilj .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

As thy daies , so shall thy strength be , DEUT. 33. 25. The Post Of swift foot Time Hath now , at length , begun The Kalends of our middle Stage : The number'd Steps that we have gone , do show The number of those Steps wee are to goe : The Buds and blossoms of our Age Are blowne , decay'd , and gone , And all our prime Is lost ; And what we boast too much , we have least cause to boast . Ah mee ! There is no Rest , Our Time is alwaies fleeing : What Rein can curb our headstrong hours ! They post away : They passe wee know not how : Our Now is gone , before wee can say , Now : Time past and futur's none of ours ; That , hath as yet no Being ; And This hath ceast To bee : What is , is onely ours : How short a Time have Wee ! And now Apolloes eare Expects harmonious straines , New minted from the Thracian Lyre ; For now the Virtue of the twiforkt Hill Inspires the ravisht fancy , and doth fill The veines with Pegasean fire : And now , those sterill braines That cannot show , Nor beare Some fruits , shall never weare Apollos sacred Bow . Excesse And surfet uses To wait upon these daies : Full feed , and flowing cup , of wine Conjure the fancy , forcing up a Spright , By the base Magick of deboysd delight ; Ah pittie twise borne Bacchus Vine Should starve Apollo's Bayes , And drown those Muses That blesse And calm the peaceful soule , when storms of cares oppres . Strong light , Boast not those beames That can but onely rise , And blaze a while , and then away : There is no Solstice in thy day ; Thy midnight glory lies Betwixt th' extrems Of night , A Glory foyld with shame , and foold with false delight .

Hast thou climbd up to the full age of thy few daies ? Look backwards , and thou shalt see the frailty of thy youth ; the foll of thy Childhood , and the waste of thy Infancy : Looke forwards ; thou shalt see , the cares of the world , the troubles of thy mind , the diseases of thy body .

EPIG. 12. To the midle ag'd . Thou that art prauncing on the lustie Noone Of thy full Age , boast not thy selfe too soone : Convert that breath to wayle thy fickle state ; Take heed ; thou l't brag too soone , or boast too late .
Et Martem spirat et arma .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

Hee must encrease , but I must decrease . IOH. 3. 30. TIme voyds the Table : Dinner 's done ; And now our daies declining Sun Hath hurried his diurnall Loade To th' Borders of the Westerne roade ; Fierce Phlegon , with his fellow Steeds , Now puffes and pants , and blowes and bleeds , And froths , and fumes , remembring still Their lashes up th' Olympick Hill ; Which , having conquerd , now disdaine The whip , and champs the frothy reyn , And , with a full Career , they bend Their paces to their Iournies end : Our blazing Tapour now hath lost Her better halfe : Nature hath crost Her forenoone book , and cleard that score , But scarce gives trust for so much more : And now the gen'rous Sappe forsakes Her seir-grown twig : A breath ev'n shakes The down-ripe fruit ; fruit soon divorc'd From her deare Branch , untouchd , unforc'd . Now sanguine Venus doth begin To draw her wanton colours in ; And flees neglected in disgrace , Whil'st Mars supplies her lukewarm place : Blood turnes to Choler : What this Age Loses in strength it finds in Rage : That rich Ennamell , which of old , Damaskt the downy Cheeke , and told A harmeless guilt , unaskt , is now Worne off from the audacious brow ; Luxurious Dalliance , midnight Revells , Loose Ryot , and those veniall evils Which inconsiderate youth of late Could pleade , now wants an Advocate , And what appeard in former times Whispring as faults , now roare as crimes : And now all yee , whose lippes were wont To drench their Currall in the Font Of forkt Parnassus ; you that be The Sons of Phocbus , and can flee On wings of Fancy , to display The Flagge of high invention , stay : Repose your Quills ; Your veines grow sower , Tempt not your Salt beyond her power : If your pall'd Fancies but decline , Censure will strike at every line And wound your names ; The popular eare Weighs what you are , not what you were . Thus hackney like , we tire our Age , Spurgall'd with Change , from Stage to Stage .

Seest thou the daily light of the greater world ? When attaind to the highest pitch of Meridian glory , it staieth not , but by the same degrees , it ascended , it descends . And is the light of the lesser world more premanent ? Continuance is the Child of Eternity , not of Time .

EPIG. 13. To the young Man . Young man , rejoyce ; And let thy rising daies Cheare thy glad heart ; Thinkst thou these uphill waies Leade to deaths dungeon ? No : but know withall , Arising is but Prologue to a Fall .
Invidiosa Senectus .

Will : Marshall . sculpsit .

Yet a little while is the light with you . IOH. 12. 35. 1. THe day growes old ; The low pitcht Lamp hath made No lesse than treble shade : And the descending damp does now prepare T'uncurle bright Titans haire ; Whose Westerne Wardrobe , now begins t' unfold Her purples , fring'd with gold , To cloathe his evening glory ; when th' alarmes Of Rest shall call to rest in restless Thetis armes . 2. Nature now calls to Supper , to refresh The spirits of all flesh ; The toyling ploughman drives his thirsty Teames , To tast the slipp'ry Streames : The droyling Swineheard knocks away , and feasts His hungry-whining guests : The boxbill Ouzle , and the dappled Thrush Like hungry Rivals meet , at their beloved bush . 3. And now the cold Autumnall dewes are seene To copwebbe every Greene ; And by the low-shorne Rowins doth appeare The fast-declining yeare . The Sapless Branches d'off their summer Suits And waine their winter fruits : And stormy blasts have forc'd the quaking Trees To wrap their trembling limbs in Suits of mossie Freeze . 4. Our wasted Tapour , now hath brought her light To the next dore to night ; Her sprightless flame , grown great with snuffe , does turn Sad as her neighb'ring Vrne : Her slender Inch , that yet unspent remaines , Lights but to further paines , And in a silent language bids her guest Prepare his wearie limbs to take eternall Rest. 5. Now carkfull Age hath pitcht her painefull plough Vpon the furrow'd brow ; And snowie blasts of discontented Care Hath blancht the falling haire : Suspitious envie mixt with jealous Spight Disturb's his wearie night : He threatens youth with age : And , now , alas , He ownes not what he is , but vaunts the Man he was . 6. Gray haires , peruse thy daies ; And let thy past Reade lectures to thy last : Those hastie wings that hurri'd them away Will give these daies no Day : The constant wheeles of Nature scorne to tyre Vntill her worke expire : That blast that nipt thy youth , will ruine Thee ; That hand that shooke the branch will quicklie strike the Tree .
St. CHRYS.

Gray hayres are honourable , when the behaviour suits with gray hayres : But when an ancient man hath childish manners , he becomes more rediculous than a childe .

SEN.

Thou art in vaine attained to old yeares , that repeatest thy youthfulnesse .

EPIG. 14. To the Youth . Seest thou this good old man ? He represents Thy Future ; Thou , his Preterperfect Tense ; Thou go'st to labour , He prepares to Rest : Thou break'st thy Fast ; He suppes : Now which is best ?
Plumbeus in terram .

Will Marshall sculpsit

The dayes of our yeares are threescore yeares and ten . PSAL. 90. 10. 1. SO have I seene th' illustrious Prince of Light Rising in glorie from his Crocean bed , And trampling downe the horrid shades of night , Advancing more and more his conq'ring head , Pause first ; decline ; at length , begin to shroud His fainting browes within a cole black cloud . 2. So have I seene a well built Castle stand Vpon the Tiptoes of a lofty Hill , Whose active pow'r commands both Sea and Land , And curbs the pride of the Beleag'rers will ; At length her ag'd Foundation failes her trust ; And layes her tottring ruines in the Dust. 3. So have I seene the blazing Tapour shoot Her golden head into the feeble Ayre ; Whose shadow-gilding Ray , spred round about , Makes the foule face of black-brow'd darknesse faire , Till at the length her wasting glory fades , And leaves the night to her invet'rate shades . 4. Ev'n so this little world of living Clay , The pride of Nature , glorified by Art , Whom earth adores , and all her hosts obay , Ally'd to Heav'n by his Diviner part , Triumphs a while , then droops , and then decaies , And worne by Age , Death cancells all his daies . 5. That glorious Sun , that whilom shone so bright , Is now ev'n ravisht from our darkned eyes ; That sturdy Castle , man'd with so much might , Lyes now a Monument of her owne disguize : That blazing Tapour , that disdain'd the puffe Of troubled Ayre , scarce ownes the name of Snuffe . 6. Poore bedrid Man ! where is that glory now , Thy Youth so vaunted ? Where that Maiesty Which sat enthron'd upon thy manly brow ? Where , where that braving Arme ? that daring eye ? Those buxom tunes ? Those Bacchanalian Tones ? Those swelling veynes ? those marrow-flowing bones ? 7. Thy drooping Glory 's blurrd , and prostrate lyes Grov'ling in dust ; And frightfull Horror , now , Sharpens the glaunces of thy gashfull eyes , Whilst feare perplexes thy distracted brow : Thy panting brest vents all her breath by groanes , And Death enervs thy marrow-wasted bones . 8. Thus Man , that 's borne of woman can remaine But a short time ; His dayes are full of sorrow ; His life 's a penance , and his death 's a paine , Springs like a flow'r to day , and fades to morrow ? His breath 's a bubble , and his daies a Span. T is glorious misery to be borne a Man .
CYPR.

When eyes are dimme , eares deafe , visage pale , teeth decaied , skin withered ; breath tainted , pipes furred , knees trembling , hands fumbling ; feet fayling , the sudden downefall of thy fleshly house is neare at hand .

St. AUGUST .

All vices wax old by Age : Covetousness alone , growes young .

EPIG. 15. To the Infant . What he doth spend in groanes , thou spendst in teares : Iudgment and strength 's alike in both your yeares ; Hee 's helpless ; so art thou ; What difference than ? Hee 's an old Infant ; Thou , a young old Man .
THE END .