File:Emblems divine and moral (1839) (14727816266).jpg

Identifier: emblemsdivinemor00quarrich (find matches)
Title: Emblems divine and moral
Year: 1839 (1830s)
Authors: Quarles, Francis, 1592-1644 Toplady, Augustus, 1740-1778 Ryland, John, 1723-1792 Wilson, Robert, A. M
Subjects: Emblems
Publisher: London, J. Bennet
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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Text Appearing Before Image:
and ?Knowst thou not where to scape ? I 11 tell thee where :My soul, make clean thy conscience; hide thee there. BOOK III.—EMBLEM XIII Job. X. 20. Are not my days few ? cease then, and let me alone,that I may take comfort a little. My glass is half unspent; forbear t arrestMy thriftless day too soon : my poor requestIs that my glass may run but out the rest. My time-devoured minutes will be doneWithout thy help; see, see how swift they run:Cut not my thread before my thread be spun. The gains not great I purchase by this stay;What loss sustainst thou by so small delay.To whom ten thousand years are but a day ? My following eye can hardly make a shiftTo count my winged hours; they fly so swift.They scarce deserve the bounteous name of gift. The secret wheels of hurrying Time to giveSo short a warning, and so fast they drive.That I am dead before I seem to live. And whats a life ? A weary pilgrimage.Whose glory, in one day, doth fill the stageWith childhood, manhood; and decrepid sge.
Text Appearing After Image:
Job.io.2o. /Ifv-Dqwi (trc frir,• Ayttuc f/ic/t fnvfor/cttJitu-ttf/i.-•Th^.frla/^rnns/ast thiit vofJ.v rur tr/t /rDr/tf// . BOOK HI. EMBLEMS. 17 And what s a life ? The flourishing arrayOf the proud summer-meadow, which to-dayWears her green plush, and is, to-morrow, hay. And whats a life ? A blast sustaind with clothing,Maintaind with food, retaind with vile self-loathing,Then weary of itself, againd to nothing. Read, on this dial, how the shades devourMy short-livd winters day; hour eats up hour;Alas ! the totals but from eight to four. Behold these lilies, (which thy hands have made Fair copies of my lite, and open laid To view,) how soon they droop, how soon they fade ! Shade not that dial night will blind too soon ;My non-agd day already points to noon :How simple is my suit! how small my boon! Nor do I beg this slender inch, to while The time away, or falsely to beguile My thoughts with joy ; heres nothing worth a smile. No, no : tis not to please my wanton earsWith frantic m

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