. Francis Quarles' Emblems and : Hieroglyphics of the life of man, modernized : in four books . vail Concern, That mofl of all deferves thy Care, Death on his Bow has iixd his Darr> And aims dire£lly at thy Head ;This Inftant from thy Slumber Hart Ere thy grand Foe fhall Itrike thee thou ftill carelefj of thy Fate ? Will not thy Danger make thee wlte ?Think what will be thy State, In Hell when thou Ihalt ope thine Eyes. The M o R A L. Who on a dreadful Precipice would flecp,When by a Roll he tumbles down the Steep ?Who on a Dragons Den could reft fecure,Nor dread the Fierc
. Francis Quarles' Emblems and : Hieroglyphics of the life of man, modernized : in four books . vail Concern, That mofl of all deferves thy Care, Death on his Bow has iixd his Darr> And aims dire£lly at thy Head ;This Inftant from thy Slumber Hart Ere thy grand Foe fhall Itrike thee thou ftill carelefj of thy Fate ? Will not thy Danger make thee wlte ?Think what will be thy State, In Hell when thou Ihalt ope thine Eyes. The M o R A L. Who on a dreadful Precipice would flecp,When by a Roll he tumbles down the Steep ?Who on a Dragons Den could reft fecure,Nor dread the Fiercenefs of the Monfters Pow*r ?And yet behold how Millions of Mankind,As ftupid, and as miferably , fmg, and dance around the horrid Pit,With Wrath Divine and Plagues eterne replete ;Thoufands they fee each Moment falling in,Yet unconcerned view the direful Scene ;Carelefs and indolent, no Danger dread,Tho Death and Hells in evry Step they the grim King of Terrors feals their Doom,Atid Hell 15 made their everlafting [ 26] XXXXXXX>CK:XXXXX><X:EMBLEM YIIL. Weak, giddly, liairbraind Fools may Draughts of Pleafure madly quaff;More Reaibn they will have to mourn,When once the Tables on them turn. [ 27 ] EMBLEM Folly of Laughter, WHATvarious Scenes around me rife^When I this wanton World furvey^.New Objeds ftart before my Eyes,Failiions and Whims and Vanities,Still pafs fuccefllvely away. One frifks and fings with merry Brow,No Cares dillurb his (hallow Brain j Now call your Eyes but juft below, figures you fee of weeping Woe,With all their melancholy Train. Another laughs and jumps about; Yet fhould you aik the Reafon why ?All he will fay Dont put me out. You fee I am a merry Trout, * Im not at Leifure now to cry.* The M o R A L. What a mad World is this ? Look round, behold-What odd, fantafticlc Scenes themfeives Wealth by feme is eageriy if it was the only, everlaiting there mows down ten th
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