S. BERN.

If thou be one of the foolish virgins, the congregation is necessary for thee; if thou be one of the wise virgins, thou art necessary for the congregation..

HUGO.

Monastics make cloysters to inclose the outward man : O would to God they would do the like to restrain the inward man!

EPIG. 8.

Afraid of eyes? what, still play least in sight?
'Tis much to be presum'd all is not right:
Too close endeavours bring forth dark events:
Come forth, monastic; here's no parliaments.

JOB

Ut Luna, Infantia torpet.

Cold, like the Moon, are these thy Infant Days; But Phoebus soon shall warm thee with his Rays.

JOB xiv. 2.

He cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down.

1.

Behold,

How short a span

Was long enough of old

To measure out the life of man; In those well temper'd days! his time was then Survey'd, cast up, and found but threescore years and ten.

2.

Alas!

And what is that!

They come, and slide, and pass,
Before my pen can tell thee what.

The posts of time are swift, which having run Their seven short stages o'er, their short-liv'd task is done.

3.

Our days
Begun we lend

To sleep, to antic plays

And toys, until the first stage end: Twelve waning moons, twice five times told, we give To unrecover'd loss : we rather breathe than live.

4.

We spend

A ten years breath

Before we apprehend

What 'tis to live, or fear a death:

Our childish dreams are fill'd with painted joys, Which please our sense awhile, and, waking prove

but

[toys.

How

5.

How vain,

How wretched, is

Poor man, that doth remain

A slave to such a state as this!

His days are short, at longest; few at most : They are but bad, at best; yet lavish'd out, or lost.

6. They be

The secret springs

That make our minutes flee

On wheels more swift than eagles' wings : Our life's a clock, and ev'ry gasp of breath Breathes forth a warning grief, till TIME shall strike a

7.

How soon

Our new-born light

Attains to full-ag'd noon!

[death.

And this, how soon to grey-hair'd night! We spring, we bud, we blossom, and we blast, Ere we can count our days, our days they flee so fast.

8.

They end

When scarce begun ;

And, ere we apprehend

That we begin to live, our life is done: Man, count thy days; and, if they fly too fast For thy dull thoughts to count, count ev'ry day the last.

Our