. Emblems, divine and moral . n rest: Till then, my days are months, my months are years,My years are ages to be spent in tears:My griefs entailed upon my wasteful breath,Which no recovry can cut off but drawn in cottages, pufFd out in moans,Begins, continues, and concludes in groans. 200 EMBLEMS. BOOK 3. IxsocENT. de Vilitate Condit. Humance. O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears,that I may bewail the miserable ingress of manscondition; the sinful progress of mans conversa-tion; the damnable egress in mans dissolution? Iwill consider with tears, whereof man was made,what
. Emblems, divine and moral . n rest: Till then, my days are months, my months are years,My years are ages to be spent in tears:My griefs entailed upon my wasteful breath,Which no recovry can cut off but drawn in cottages, pufFd out in moans,Begins, continues, and concludes in groans. 200 EMBLEMS. BOOK 3. IxsocENT. de Vilitate Condit. Humance. O who will give mine eyes a fountain of tears,that I may bewail the miserable ingress of manscondition; the sinful progress of mans conversa-tion; the damnable egress in mans dissolution? Iwill consider with tears, whereof man was made,what man doth, and what man is to do! alas! heis fonned of earth, conceived in sin, bom topunishment: he doth evil things which are notlawful; he doth filthy things, which are not de-cent; he doth vain things, which are not ex-pedient. EpiG. 15. My heart, thy lifes a debt by bond, which beai-sA secret date; the use is groans and tears:Plead not; usurious nature will have all,As well the intrcst as the principal. BOOK THE M]/ soul hath coveted to desire thy judgments. Psalm, cxix. ROM. VII. 23. / see another law in my members warring againstthe law of my mind, and bringing me into cap-tivity to the law of sin. 0 HOW my will is hurried to and fro,And how my unresolvd resolves do vary! 1 know not where to fix, sometimes I go This way, then that, and then the quite contrary: 202 EMBLEMS. BOOK 4. I like, dislike; lament for what I could not;I do, undo; yet still do what I should not,And, at the selfsame instant, will the thing Iwould not. Thus are my weather-beaten thoughts opprest With th earth-bred winds of my prodigious will;Thus am I hourly tost from east to westUpon the rolling streams of good and ill:Thus am I drivn upon the slippry sudsFrom real ills to false apparent goods:My lifes a troubled sea, composd of ebbs and floods. The curious penman, having trimnid his pageWith the dead language of his dabbled quill,Lets fall a heedless drop, then in a rageCashiers the fruit
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