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Or impotent, or, else approving, sees Hate, unbelief, and blasphemy of God; The foul disorder. Senseless and deform'd, Envy and slander, malice and revenge ; Convulsive Anger storms at large; or, pale And murder, and deceit, and every birth, And silent, settles into fell revenge.
Of damned sort, was progeny of pride. Base Envy withers at another's joy,
It was the ever-moving, acting force,
These, and a thousand mixed emotions
NEXT brave Philotimus in post did ride,
clin'd; His heart aspiring swell'd until it barst; But when he gain'd the top, with spite
accurst, Down would he fing the steps by which he
His head's a shop furnish'd with looms of
state: His brain the weaver, thoughts are shat
tles light, With which, in spite of heav'n, he weaves
his fate; Honour his web: thus works he day and
night, Till fates cut off his thread; so heapeih
sins, And plagues, nor once enjoys the place
he wins; But where his old race ends, there his new
Pride, self-adoring pride, was primal cause
Ah, silly man, who dream'st that honour
And in his hand a burning brond he hath, Yet both his shield and guard (faini heart) The which he brandisheth about his hed:
suspected : His eyes did hurle forth sparcles fiery red, And sending often back his doubtfal eye, And stared sterne on all that him beheld, I By fearing, taught unthought of treachery; As ashes pale of hew, and seeming ded; So made him enemies, by fearing enmity.
And on his dagger still his hand he held, Trembling through hasty rage when choler Still did he look for some ensuing cross, in him sweld.
Fearing such hap as never man befell :
No mean he knows, but dreads each little His ruffin raiment all was staind with
(With tyranny of fear distraught) as hell. Which he had spilt, and all to rags yrent; | His sense he dare not trust, (nor eyes, nor Through unadvized rasbness woxen wood,
ears); For of his hands he had no government, And when no other cause of fright appears, Ne card for blood in his avengement: Himself he much suspects, and fears his But when the furious fitt was overpast,
causeless fears. His cruel facts he often would repent;
Yet (wilful man) he never would forecast Harness'd with massy steel, for fence, not How many mischiefs should ensue his beed
fight lesse haste.
His sword unseemly long he ready drew:
At sudden shine of his own armour bright Full many mischiefs follow cruell wrath ; | He started oft, and star'd with ghastly Abhorred bloodshed, and tumultuous strife, hue: Unmanly murder, and unthrifty scath, He shrieks at ev'ry danger that appears, Bitter despight, with rancours rusty knife, Shaming the knightly arms he goodly And fretting griefe, the enemy of life :
bears : All these, and many evils moe, haunt ire, His word: Safer, that all, than he that The swelling splene,and frenzy raging rife, nothing fears. The sbaking palsey, and Saint Fraunces'
fire, Such one was Wrath, the fifth of this an
DOUBT. godly tire.
steps unsure ;
That every way and neither way inclin'd; FEAR.
And fond Distrust, whom nothing could P. FLETCHER.
Suspicion lean, as if he never din'd: Next to the captain coward Deilos far'd! He keeps intelligence by thousand spies: Him right before he as his shield projected, Argus to him bequeath'd his hundred eyes: And following troops to back him as his So waking, still he sleeps, and sleeping, guard ;
CONTRARITIES IN MAN.
How poor, how rich, how abject, how august,
Who center'd in our make such strange extremes
And earthly friendships fair aud gay,
TRUTH OF THE SCRIPTURES.
Proof needs not here; for whether we Riches, that so absorb the mind
compare In anxious care and ceaseless toil
That impious, idle, superstitious ware What are they 1-faithless as the wind
Of rites, lustrations, offerings, which before, A broken cistern all the wbile.
In various ages, various countries bore, Yes—all are broken cisternis, Lord !
With Christian faith and virtues, we shall
find To those that wander far from thee: The living stream is in thy word,
None answering the great ends of human
kind Thou Fount of IMMORTALITY !
But this one rule of life, that shows us best
Whether from length of time its worth we CUNNINGHAM.
draw, Each fabled fount of comfort dry,
The word is scarce more ancient than the Where can I quench my feverish thirst ? | law :