S. BERN.

If thou desirest the help of angels, fly the comforts of the world, and resist the temptations of the devil.

He will give his angels charge over thee. O what reverence, what love, what confidence, deserveth so sweet a saying! For their presence, reverence; for their goodwill, love; for their tuition, confidence.

EPIG. 5.

My flame, art thou disturb'd, diseas'd, and driv'n
To death with storms of grief? point thou to heav'n :
One angel there shall ease thee more alone,
Than thrice as many thousands of thy own.

ECCLESIASTES iii. 1.

To every thing there is an appointed time.

TIME.

1.

DEATH.

Time. Alas! it hath not long to last;

EHOLD the fraility of this slender snuff;

Without the help of either thief or puff,
Her weakness knows the way to waste :
Nature hath made her substance apt enough
To spend itself, and spend too fast :
It needs the help of none,

That is so prone

To lavish out untouch'd, and languish all alone.

2.

Death. Time, hold thy peace, and shake thy slow-pac'd Thine idle minutes make no way:

[sand;

Thy glass exceeds her hour, or else doth stand;
I cannot hold, I cannot stay.

Surcease thy pleading, and enlarge my hand;
I surfeit with too long delay:

This brisk, this bold-fac'd light

Doth burn too bright;

Darkness adorns my throne, my day is darkest night.

3.

Time. Great prince of darkness, hold thy needless hand;
Thy captive's fast, and cannot flee :

What arm can rescue, who can countermand?
What pow'r can set thy pris'ner free?
Or if they could, what close, what foreign land
Can hide that head that flees from thee?

* Sarceuse; i. e. forbear.

Buf

The Time shall come when all must yield their Breath: Till then. Time checks thruplifted Handof Death.

But if her harmless light
Offend thy sight,

[at night?

What need'st thou snatch at noon, what will be thine

4.

Death. I have outstay'd my patience; my quick trade
Grows dull, and makes too slow return :
This long-liv'd debt is due, and should been paid
When first her flame began to búrn :
But I have stay'd too long, I have delay'd
To store my vast, my craving urn.
My patent gives me pow'r
Each day, each hour,

[tow'r.

To strike the peasant's thatch, and shake the princely

5.

Time. Thou coun'st too fast: thy patent gives no pow'r
Till Time shall please to say, Amen. [hour?
Death, Canst thou appoint my shaft? Time. Or thou my
Death. 'Tis I bid, do. Time. 'Tis I bid, when;

Alas! thou canst not make the poorest flow'r
To hang the drooping head till then :

Thy shafts can neither kill,

Nor strike, until

My pow'r gives them wings, and pleasure arms thy will.

S. AU