THE world's a bubble and the Life of Man
Less than a span

In his conception wretched, from the womb
So to the tomb;

Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years
With cares and fears.

Who then to frail mortality shall trust,
But limns on water, or but writes in dust.

Yet whilst with sorrow here we live opprest,
What life is best?

Courts are but only superficial schools
To dandle fools:

The rural parts are turn'd into a den
Of savage men:

And where's a city from foul vice so free,

But may be termed the worst of all the three?

Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed,

Or pains his head:

Those that live single, take it for a curse

Or do things worse:

Some would have children: those that have them moan
Or wish them gone:

What is it, then, to have, or have no wife,

But single thraldom or a double strife?

But our affections still at home to please
Is a disease:

To cross the seas to any foreign soil,
Peril and toil:

THE LESSONS OF NATURE

Wars with their noise affright us: when they cease,
We are worse in peace ;-

What then remains, but that we still should cry

For being born, or being born, to die?

LORD BACON

45

LVIII

THE LESSONS OF NATURE

Of this fair volume which we World do name
If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care,
Of him who it corrects, and did it frame,
We clear might read the art and wisdom rare :

Find out his power which wildest powers doth tame,

His providence extending everywhere,

His justice which proud rebels doth not spare,
In every page, no period of the same.

But silly we, like foolish children, rest
Well pleased with colour'd vellum, leaves of gold,
Fair dangling ribbands, leaving what is best,
On the great writer's sense ne'er taking hold;

Or if by chance we stay our minds on aught,
It is some picture on the margin wrought.

W. DRUMMOND

LIX

DOTH then the world go thus, doth all thus move?
Is this the justice which on Earth we find?
Is this that firm decree which all doth bind?
Are these your influences, Powers above?

46

THE WORLD'S WAY

Those souls which vice's moody mists most blind,
Blind Fortune, blindly, most their friend doth prove;
And they who thee, poor idol Virtue! love,
Ply like a feather toss'd by storm and wind.

Ah! if a Providence doth sway this all

Why should best minds groan under most distress?
Or why should pride humility make thrall,
And injuries the innocent oppress?

Heavens! hinder, stop this fate; or grant a time
When good may have, as well as bad, their prime!

W. DRUMMOND

LX

THE WORLD'S WAY

TIRED with all these, for restful death I cry-
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,

And gilded honour shamefully misplaced,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgraced,
And strength by limping sway disabled,

And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive Good attending captain Ill:-

-Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,

Save that, to die, I leave my Love alone.

W. SHAKESPEARE

SAINT JOHN BAPTIST

LXI

SAINT JOHN BAPTIST

THE last and greatest Herald of Heaven's King
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he more harmless found than man, and mild.

His food was locusts, and what there doth spring,
With honey that from virgin hives distill'd;
Parch'd body, hollow eyes, some uncouth thing
Made him appear, long since from earth exiled.

There burst he forth: All ye whose hopes rely
On God, with me amidst these deserts mourn,
Repent, repent, and from old errors turn!
-Who listen'd to his voice, obey'd his cry?

Only the echoes, which he made relent,
Rung from their flinty caves, Repent! Repent!

W. DRUMMOND

END OF KI

BOOK 12/

47

THIS is the month, and this the happy morn
Wherein the Son of Heaven's Eternal King
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring;
For so the holy sages once did sing

That he our deadly forfeit should release,
And with his Father work us a perpetual peace.

That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable,
And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty

Wherewith he wont at Heaven's high council-table
To sit the midst of Trinal Unity