. Emblems divine and moral . a Rock that saves. BOOK IV.—EMBLEM XIV Canticles ii. 3. I sat down under his shadow ivith great delight^ andhis fruit was sweet to my taste. Look how the sheep, whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her shepherds eyes,Eftsoon* becomes the unprotected prey To the wingd squadron of beleagring flies ; Where, swelterd with the scorching beams of day, She frisks from bush to brake, and wildly flies From her own self, evn of herself afraid ; She shrouds her troubled brows in evry glade, And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade. Evn so my wandring
. Emblems divine and moral . a Rock that saves. BOOK IV.—EMBLEM XIV Canticles ii. 3. I sat down under his shadow ivith great delight^ andhis fruit was sweet to my taste. Look how the sheep, whose rambling steps do stray From the safe blessing of her shepherds eyes,Eftsoon* becomes the unprotected prey To the wingd squadron of beleagring flies ; Where, swelterd with the scorching beams of day, She frisks from bush to brake, and wildly flies From her own self, evn of herself afraid ; She shrouds her troubled brows in evry glade, And craves the mercy of the soft removing shade. Evn so my wandring soul, that hath digressdFrom her great Shepherd, is the hourly preyOf all my sins ; these vultures in my breast Gripe my Promethean heart both night and day :I hunt from place to place, but find no rest;I know not where to go, nor where to stay ; The eye of Vengeance burns, her flames invadeMy sweltring soul: my soul hath oft assayd;But she can find no shroud, but she can feel noshade. * Eftsoon, soon afterwards. o o K r\. E ivr B L E TVL 14 ^ruilrnU^- ric/t //eiifurff qrtt/i/itt/ # BOOK IV. EMBLEMS. 65 I sought the shades of mirth, to wear away My slow-pacd hours of soul-consuming grief:1 searchd the shades of sleep, to ease my day Of griping sorrows with a nights reprief:I sought the shades of death ; thought, there, t allayMy final torments with a full relief: But mirth, nor sleep, nor death, can hide my hoursIn the false shades of their deceitful bowrs;The first distracts, the next disturbs, the last de-vours. Where shall I turn ? to whom shall I apply me ?Are there no streams where a faint soul maywade ?Thy Godhead, Jesus, are the flames that fry me ; Hath thy all-glorious Deity neer a shade,Where I may sit, and Vengeance never eye me ;Where I might sit refreshd, or unafraid ?Is there no comfort ? is there no refection ?*Is there no cover that will give protectionT a fainting soul, the subject of thy wraths reflec-tion ? Look up, my soul! advance
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