. Emblems divine and moral . sleeps unmovd, and standeth vainly still. Great God! it is thy work, and therefore good :If thou be pleasd to cleanse it with thy blood,And wind it up with thy soul-moving keys,Her busy wheels shall serve thee all her days;Her hand shall point thy powr, her hammer strikethy praise. 48 EMBLEMS. BOOK 1Y. S, Bern, Ser, xxi. Cant, Let us run: let us run, but in the savour of thyointments, not in the confidence of our merits, norin the greatness of our strength : we trust to run, butin the multitude of thy mercies; for though we run,and are willing, it is not in him
. Emblems divine and moral . sleeps unmovd, and standeth vainly still. Great God! it is thy work, and therefore good :If thou be pleasd to cleanse it with thy blood,And wind it up with thy soul-moving keys,Her busy wheels shall serve thee all her days;Her hand shall point thy powr, her hammer strikethy praise. 48 EMBLEMS. BOOK 1Y. S, Bern, Ser, xxi. Cant, Let us run: let us run, but in the savour of thyointments, not in the confidence of our merits, norin the greatness of our strength : we trust to run, butin the multitude of thy mercies; for though we run,and are willing, it is not in him that willeth, nor inhim that runneth, but in God that sheweth let thy mercy return, and we will run : thou, likea giant, runnest by thine own power; we, unless thyointment breathe upon us, cannot run. Epig. 8. Look not, my watch, being once repaired, to stand Expecting motion from thy Maker^s hand : Heas wound ihee up, and cleansd thy clogs with blood;If now thy wheels stand still, thou art not good. i^ O c; X T^/;. E^ 9, CSEtTgrr: ■ /^/njt n/v/r/n/ nniU/irrVi-. r T/tee, t/i^ .vfifc/uejs r^a ,*j:t/f / BOOK IV.—EMBLEM IX Canticles viii. 1. O that thou wert as my brother^ that sucked the breastsof my mother ! when I should find thee without, Iwould kiss thee. Come, come my blessed Infant, and immure thee Within the temple of my sacred arms;Secure mine arms ; mine arms shall, then, secure theeFrom Herods fury, or the high priests harms :Or if thy dangerd life sustain a loss,My folded arms shall turn thy dying cross. But, ah! what savage tyrant can behold The beauty of so sweet a face as this is,And not himself be by himself change his fury to a thousand kisses ? One smile of thine is worth more mines af treasureThan there be myriads in the days of Csesar. O, had the tetrach, as he knew thy birth, So known thy stock, he had not sought to paddle In thy dear blood; but, prostrate on the veild his crown before thy
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