. Emblems divine and moral . h thee the less, that loveth any thingwith thee, which he loveth not for thee. Epig. 13. Lord, scourge my ass, if she should make no haste, And curb my stag, if he should flee too fast: If he be over swift, or she prove idle. Let love lend her a spur ; fear, him a bridle. BOOK I.—EMBLEM XIV Psalm xiii. 3. Lighten timie eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep ofdeath. Willt neer be morning ? Will that promisd lightNeer break, and clear those clouds of night ?Sweet Phosphor, bring the day,Whose conquring ray-May chase these fogs : sweet Phosphor, bring theday. How long
. Emblems divine and moral . h thee the less, that loveth any thingwith thee, which he loveth not for thee. Epig. 13. Lord, scourge my ass, if she should make no haste, And curb my stag, if he should flee too fast: If he be over swift, or she prove idle. Let love lend her a spur ; fear, him a bridle. BOOK I.—EMBLEM XIV Psalm xiii. 3. Lighten timie eyes, O Lord, lest I sleep the sleep ofdeath. Willt neer be morning ? Will that promisd lightNeer break, and clear those clouds of night ?Sweet Phosphor, bring the day,Whose conquring ray-May chase these fogs : sweet Phosphor, bring theday. How long ! how long shall these benighted eyes Languish in shades, like feeble fliesExpecting spring ? How long shall darkness soil The face of earth, and thus beguileOur souls of rightful action ? When will day Begin to dawn, whose new-born rayMay gild the weathercocks of our devotion, And give our unsould souls new motion ?Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ;Thy light will frayThese horrid mists ; sweet Phosphor, bring the day. BOOK T. rivoipluM-c reticle Diem . C r/nrrr /^/tr (//(,f>/nv S7tn,/r.\- ,/M>>/// ,t/iftv,Snwrf P/f,,sy//if>r, fir- cftr S/t/,, rr /ftrtr// t/ir 7),rv. BOOK I. EMBLEMS. Si Let those have night that slily love t* immure Their cloisterd crimes, and sin secure ;Let those have night that blush to let men know The baseness they neer blush to do ;Let those have night that love to take a nap. And loll in Ignorances lap :Let those whose eyes, like owls, abhor the light, Let those have night, that love the night:Sweet Phosphor, bring the day :How sad delayAfflicts dull hopes! sweet Phosphor, bring the day. Alas! my light-in-vain-expecting eyes Can find no objects but what riseFrom this poor mortal blaze—a dying spark Of Vulcans forge, whose flames are darkAnd dangerous; a dull, blue-burning light, As melancholy as the night:Heres all the suns that glister in the sphereOf earth : Ah me ! what comforts here ?Sweet Phosphor, bring the day ;Haste, haste away,Heavn
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Keywords: ., bookauthorquarlesfrancis159, bookcentury1800, booksubjectemblems
