File:Emblems, divine and moral (1824) (14563384048).jpg

Identifier: emblemsdivinemor03quar (find matches)
Title: Emblems, divine and moral
Year: 1824 (1820s)
Authors: Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644 Harvey, Christopher, 1597-1663 Wilkins, W. Walker (William Walker)
Subjects: Emblems
Publisher: London : J. Robins
Contributing Library: Duke University Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: Duke University Libraries

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late was music, now affrights like thunder. Poor man ! are not thy joints grown sore with shaking,To view th* effect of thy bold undertaking,That in one hour didst mar what Heavn six dayswas making ? S. August, lib. 1. de Lib. Arbit. It is a most just punishment that man should losethat freedom which man would not use, yet hadpower to keep if he would ; and that he who hadknowledge to do what was right, and did not, shouldbe deprived of the knowledge of what was right; 10 EMBLEMS. BOOK I. and that he who would not do righteously, when hehad the power, should lose the power to do it whenhe had the will. Hugo de Anima.They are justly punished that abuse lawful things,but they are more justly punished that use unlawfulthings : thus Lucifer fell from heaven; thus Adamlost his paradise. Epig. 2.See how these fruitful kernels, being castUpon the earth, how thick they spring! how fast!A full-ear* d crop and thriving, rank and proud !Prepostrous man first sowd, and then he ploughd. B O O K I
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EMBLEM XTt potiar, paiior, patkaafc\iioii potieris.-ALr Sn//frinqA> wit/t Enjoyment sfaait Ire crcirrul.JfYt/wut Enpqyrnent ■rhall tfiv jPai/t.r aloittuf. BOOK I.—EMBLEM III. Prov. XIV. 13. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful; and theend of that mirth is heaviness. Alas ! fond child, How are thy thoughts beguildTo hope for honey from a nest of wasps ?Thou mayst as well Go seek for ease in hell,Or sprightly nectar from the mouths of asps. The worlds a hive,From whence thou canst deriveNo good, but what thy souls vexation brings:But case thou meetSome petty-petty-sweet,Each drop is guarded with a thousand stings. 12 EMBLEMS. BOOK ft. Why dost thou makeThese murmring troops forsakeThe safe protection of their waxen homes ?This hive containsNo sweet thats worth thy pains;Theres nothing here, alas ! but empty combs. For trash and toys,And grief-engendring joys,What torment seems too sharp for flesh and blood ?What bitter pills,Composd of real ills,Men swallow down, to purchase o

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