REASON: THE USE OF IT IN DIVINE MATTERS. Some blind themselves, 'cause possibly they may Be led by others a right way; They build on sands, which if unmoved they find, "Tis that there was no wind. Less hard 'tis not to err ourselves, than know Visions and inspirations some expect Like senseless chymists their own wealth destroy, So stars appear to drop to us from sky, And gild the passage as they fly; But when they fall, and meet the opposing ground, Sometimes their fancies they 'bove reason set, So Endor's wretched sorceress, although She Saul through his disguise did know, Yet, when the devil comes up disguised, she cries, "Behold the gods arise.' In vain, alas! these outward hopes are tried; Reason, which (God be praised!) still walks, for all And, since itself the boundless Godhead joined, With a reasonable mind, It plainly shows that mysteries divine May with our reason join. The holy book, like the eighth sphere, does shine So numberless the stars, that to the eye Yet reason must assist too; for in seas Our course by stars above we cannot know, Though reason cannot through Faith's mysteries see, Leads to heaven's door, and there does humbly keep, Yet thither it infallibly does guide, THE SHORTNESS OF LIFE AND UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES. Why dost thou heap up wealth which thou must quit, Or, what is worse, be left by it? Why dost thou load thyself when thou'rt to fly, Oh man! ordained to die? Why dost thou build up stately rooms on high, Thou sowest and plantest, but no fruit must see, Suppose thou Fortune could'st to tameness bring, Suppose thou could'st on fate so far prevail, As not to cut off thy entail; Yet Death at all that subtlety will laugh, Death will that foolish gard'ner mock, Upon a lasting stock. Thou dost thyself wise and industrious deem; A mighty husband thou wouldst seem; Fond man! like a bought slave, thou all the while Officious fool! that needs must meddling be For when to future years thou extend'st thy cares, Ev'n aged men, as if they truly were Wisely the ant against poor winter hoards Of power and honour the deceitful light Like lightning that, begot but in a cloud Oh, scene of fortune! which dost fair appear Be prudent, and the shore in prospect keep! The wise example of the heavenly lark, Above the clouds let thy proud music sound JOHN QUARLES, son of Francis Quarles, who has already come under our notice, was born in Essex, about the year 1624. According to Wood, he "became a battler of Exeter College in the latter end of 1642, and in that of his age eighteen bore arms within the garrison of Oxon for his majesty, and was afterwards, as 'tis said, a captain in one of his armies; but upon the declining of his majesty's cause, he retired to London in a mean condition, where he wrote several things merely for maintenance' sake; among which were these:-' Elegy upon that never-to-be-forgotten Charles I., late (but too soon martyr'd) King of England;' 'Jeremiah's Lamentations paraphrased, with Divine Meditations;' 'Divine Meditations upon several subjects; whereunto is annexed God's Love and Man's Unworthiness, with several Divine Ejaculations.' It is from the last of these that the following stanzas are selected. Besides the works mentioned by Wood as having been written by John Quarles, may be mentioned "An Elegie on James Usher, Lord Archbishop of Armagh," published in London in 1656. Of this learned prelate he appears to have been a protegé, as his father was sometime secretary, and to have cherished for his person and his memory a profound and reverent attachment. About the year 1649, Quarles seems to have been banished for a time to Flanders. "This person," to return to Wood's account of him, 66 was esteemed by some a good poet and a great royalist, for which he suffered, and lived therefore mostly in a poor condition. At length, upon the raging of the plague in and near London, he was swept away there among thousands that died of that disease in 1665; but where his carkass was lodged I cannot tell. One John Quarles occurs Archdeacon of Northampton an. 1640, and was living after the restoration of Charles II.; but he is not to be taken the same with John Quarles the poet." DIVINE EJACULATIONS. In all extremes, Lord, Thou art still Shall mountain, desert, beast, and tree Fountain of light and living breath, To see thy power and sing thy praise. O Thou that sitt'st in heaven, and see'st |