. Emblems divine and moral ; together with Hieroglyphics of the life of man . s of peace. And wifdom blefs the fouls unblemifhd ways jNo matter, then, how (hort or longs the leafe, Whofe date determines thy felf numberd days : No need to care for wealths or fames increafe. Nor Mars his palm, nor high Apollos bays. Lord, if thy gracious bounty pleafe to fill The floor of my defires, and teach me fkill To drefs and chufe the corn, take thofe the ehafF that [will. G 2 S. AU. 76 EMBLEMS. Book II. S. A U G U S T. Lib. I. de Doa. ChMi. Temporal things more ravijh in the expe£iation^ thanin fruition:
. Emblems divine and moral ; together with Hieroglyphics of the life of man . s of peace. And wifdom blefs the fouls unblemifhd ways jNo matter, then, how (hort or longs the leafe, Whofe date determines thy felf numberd days : No need to care for wealths or fames increafe. Nor Mars his palm, nor high Apollos bays. Lord, if thy gracious bounty pleafe to fill The floor of my defires, and teach me fkill To drefs and chufe the corn, take thofe the ehafF that [will. G 2 S. AU. 76 EMBLEMS. Book II. S. A U G U S T. Lib. I. de Doa. ChMi. Temporal things more ravijh in the expe£iation^ thanin fruition: but things eternal^ more in the fruition than expetlation. Ibidem. The life of man is the middle between angels andheajisiif ?nan takes pleafure in carnal things^ he is compared toht-a/ls ; hut if he delight in fpiritual things^ he is fuitediuith angels» EPIG. 7. Art thou a child ? Thou wilt not then be fedBat like a child, and with the childrens bread:But thou art fed with corn, or chaff* undreft >My foul, thou favourft too much of the bcaft. P H 111 P- Heec aiiiiixalit Pxieros Cjnibala; at ilia l^rOS. Book II. E M B L E M S. 77 VIIL Philippians iii. 19, 20. They mnd earthly things: iut our converfatlm ;; mheaven. Venus. Divine Cupid. f(f;z.\X7Hat means this peevifh babe ? Whifh, lul-^ ^ What ails my babe, what ails my babe toWill nothing ftill it ? Will it neither be [cry ? Pleasd with the nurfes breaft, nor mothers knee IWhat ails my bird ? What moves my froward boyTo make fuch whimpring faces ? Peace, my joy :Will nothing do ? Come, come, this peevifli cry and brawl, and cannot tell for what ?Come, bufs and friends, my lamb; whifh, ails my babe, what ails my babe to cry \Peace, peace, my dear; alas I thy early yearsHad never faults to merit half thefe tears jCome, fmile upon me : let thy mother fpyThy fathers image in her babys eye :Hufband thefe guilty drops againft the harder fortunes, and the gripes of age;Thine eyes not
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