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DIDACTIC AND MORAL PIECES.

My MIDNIGHT MEDITATION.

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LL-busi'a Man! why should'st thou take such caro

Tu lengthen out thy life's short Kalendar?
When ev'ry spectacle thou look'st upon
Presents and acts thy execution.

Each drooping season and each flower doth cry,
“ Fool! as I fade and wither, thou must dy.”.

The beating of thy pulse (when thou art well)
Is just the tolling of thy pafsing bell :
Night is thy hearse, whose sable canopie
Covers alike deceased day and thee.

And all those weeping dewes which nightly fall,
Are but the tears shed for thy funerall.

Dr, King's Poems, p. 138.

Vol. II.

B

TIMES TIMES GOE BY TURNES.

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HE lopped tree in time may grow againe,

Most naked plants renew both fruite and flower:
The forriest wight may find release of paine,
The dryest foyle fucke in some moystning shower,
Times goe by turnes, and chaunces change by course,
From foule to faire: from better hap to worie.

The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow,
Shee drawes her favours to the lowest ebbe;
Her tides have equall times to come and goe,
Her loome doth weave the fine and courlett webbe.
No joy so great, but runneth to an end:
No hap so hard, but may in fine amend.

Not alwaies fall of leafe, nor ever spring,
No endleffe night, nor yet eternall day:
The saddest birds a season find to fing,
The roughest storme a calme may soon allay.
Thus with fucceeding turnes God tempereth all
That man may hope to rile, yet feare to fall.

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À chaunce may winne that by mischaurice was lost,
That net that holds no great, takes little fish ;
In some things all, in all things none are croft,
Fewe all they need, but none have all they with:
Unineddled joyes here to no man befall:
Who lealt, hath fome, who most, hath never all.

Robert Southwell.

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THE SEARCH AFTER FELICITY.

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For secret knowledge of her power, were lost,
Confounded, and in deepe amazement stood,
In the discovery of the Chiefest Good :
Keenly they hunted, beat in every bracke,
Forwards they went, on either hand, and backe
Return'd they counter ; but their deep-mouth'd art
(Though often challeng'd sent) yet ne're could start
in all th' enclosures of Philosophy,
That game, from squat, they terme, Felicity:
They jangle, and their maxims disagree,
As many men, so many mindes there be.

One digs to Pluto's throne, thinks there to finde
Her Grace, rak't up in gold: another's minde
Mounts to the Courts of Kings, with plumes of honor
And feather'd hopes, hopes there to seize upon her ;
A third, unlockes the painted gates of Pleasure,
And ransacks there, to find this peerleffe treasure,
A fourth, more fage, more wisely melancholy,
Perswades himselfe, her Deity's too holy

В.

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For

For common hands to touch, he rather chuses,
To make a long dayes journey to the Muses :
To Athens (gown’d) he goes, and from that Schoole
Returnes unsped, a more instructed foole.

Where lyes she then? or lyes she any where
Honours are bought and sold, she refts not there,
Much lesse in Pleasures hath Me her abiding,
For they are shar'd to Beasts, and ever sliding ;
Nor yet in Vertue, Vertue's often poore;
And (crush't with fortune) begs from doore to door,
Nor is she fainted in the shrine of Wealth ;
That, makes men slaves, is unsecur'd from stealth ;
Conclude we then, Felicity consists
Not in exteriour fortunes, but her lifts
Are boundleffe, and her large extension
Out-runnes the pase of humane apprehension;
Fortunes are seldome measur'd by desert,
The fairer face, hath oft the fouler heart;
Sacred Felicity doth ne'er extend
Beyond itselfe; in it, all wishes end :
The swelling of an outward fortune can
Create a prosp'rous, not a happy man;
A peacefull Conscience is the true Content,
And Wealth is but her golden ornament.

Job Militant,
13 Med. by F. Quarles
Edit 1630. Lond.

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SCORN SCORN NOT THE LEAST.

W HERE wards are weak, and foes encountring strong,

Where mightier do assault then doe defend,
The feebler part puts up enforced wrong,
And filent fees that speech could not amend;
Yet higher powers must thinke, though they repine,
When sunne is set, the little starres will shine.

While pike do range, the filly tench doth flie,
And crouch in privie creekes, with smaller fish :
Yet pikes are caught when little fich goe by,
Thele fleete aflote, while those doe fill the dish;
There is a time even for the wormes to creepe,
And sucke the deaw while all their foes doe fleepe.

The marline cannot ever soare on high,
Nor greedie grey-hound still pursue the chace,
The tender larke will finde a time to flie,
And fearfull hare to runne a quiet race.
He that high growth on cedars did bestow,
Gaye also lowly mushrumps leave to growe,

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