. Emblems and hieroglyphics on a great variety of subjects, moral and Emblished with near an hundred emblematical cuts from Quarles Emblems . t Metal it is made,Again thy Knuckles ply. Tis a mere Emptinefs,For all within is Air ; \ Nothing but Sound it will exprefs,And nought but Noife you hear. Such are the Worlds Delights,Its Honours, Wealth and Powr,Mere Wind and Vapour, airy Flights,That crack, and nothing more. The Moral. The Worlds a Bubble, formd of latherd Soap,It mines a-while, and ends a muddy like a Drum, that makes a mighty Sound,Yet in its Belly, nought but Win
. Emblems and hieroglyphics on a great variety of subjects, moral and Emblished with near an hundred emblematical cuts from Quarles Emblems . t Metal it is made,Again thy Knuckles ply. Tis a mere Emptinefs,For all within is Air ; \ Nothing but Sound it will exprefs,And nought but Noife you hear. Such are the Worlds Delights,Its Honours, Wealth and Powr,Mere Wind and Vapour, airy Flights,That crack, and nothing more. The Moral. The Worlds a Bubble, formd of latherd Soap,It mines a-while, and ends a muddy like a Drum, that makes a mighty Sound,Yet in its Belly, nought but Wind is like a Foot-ball, kickd and tofsd about,All Wind within, and leathered like a Cafk, when all the Liquors drawn ;Its like a Bone, when Meat and Marrows real Comfort can this Earth affordTo Man, its boafting delegated and Riches, and the Gaud of Pride,Wither and wafte, and never long Moth and Ruft, and Canker wiil deftroyThe fplendid Beauties of each earthly , folid Riches Heavn alone contains,And Treafures only worth the Christians Pains, $0 HlEROGLYPHICKS, Book EMBLEM XI. * U&. Ye Winds from evry Quarter blow,And into noify Blufter grow,You cannot caufe me any Lofs—-My Feet are fixed on the Crofs> Book II. Moral and Divine. 6tEMBLEM XL Safety in the Crofs alone. LE T boifTrous Winds blow high and roar,Tofs me at Sea, or on the Shore,firmly I Hand upon the Crofs,Where Winds nor Waves lhall give me Lofs. When I am fickle Fortunes Sport,The Crofs alone is my Support;On that I lean in deep Diftrefs,In that all Riches I poffefs. •When Malice vents her venomd Spleen,A perfect Calm I find within ;Let Men and Devils be my Foes,The Crofs is (till my fafe Repofe. The Moral. The World may fpite, and Tyrants vent their Rage,And Earth and Hell againft the Jufl is their Malice, venomlefs their Spite,They fnarl and gnafh, but have no Teeth to Chriftian, in the Crofs of Christ fecure,Patient, their S
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