That holy cross, whence thy salvation came, On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die! For in that sacred object is much pleasure, And in that Saviour is my life, my treasure. To thee, O Jesu! I direct my eyes; To Thee my hands, to Thee my humble knees; To Thee my heart shall offer sacrifice; To Thee my thoughts, who my thoughts only sees: To Thee myself,-myself and all I give; To Thee I die; to Thee I only live! IGNOTO. XXII. THE WORLD.1 (By Lord Bacon.) 'HE world's a bubble, and the life of man Less than a span; In his conception wretched, from the womb, So to the tomb; "Rel. Wotton." Signed as below in all editions after the first, where it is marked "Ignoto." Ascribed to Lord Bacon in Farnaby's "Florilegium," 1629, p. 10. Compare Spedding's edit. of Bacon's "Works," vol. vii. p. 269. In MS. Rawl. Poet. 117, fol. 161, it was first entitled "The Bubble, by R. W.;" (? H. W.) altered to "by ye Lord Bacon." In MS. Ashm. 38, p. 2, the first title " On was, Man's Mortality, by Doctor Donn;" altered to Sr Fran. Bacon." In a MS. belonging to the late Mr. Pickering the title is, "Upon the Misery of Man;" the first signature is Henry Harrington," altered to "Ld Verulam Viscount St. Alban's.' 66 Curst from his cradle, and brought up to years Who then to frail mortality shall trust Yet, whilst with sorrow here we live oppressed, Courts are but only superficial schools, The rural part is turned into a den And where's a city from foul vice so free Domestic cares afflict the husband's bed, Those that live single take it for a curse, These would have children; those that have them moan, Or wish them gone, What is it, then, to have or have no wife, Our own affections still at home to please To cross the seas to any foreign soil, Wars with their noise affright us; when they cease, What then remains, but that we still should cry For being born, and, being born, to die? FRA. LORD BACON. XXIII. VERSES MADE BY MR. FRA. BACON.1 HE man of life upright, whose guiltless heart is free From all dishonest deeds, and thoughts of vanity; That man whose silent days in harmless joys are spent, Whom hopes cannot delude, nor fortune discontent; That man needs neither tower nor armour for defence, Nor secret vaults to fly from thunder's violence. brings, He makes the heaven his book, his wisdom heavenly things, Good thoughts his only friends, his wealth a well spent age; The earth his sober inn,-a quiet pilgrimage. FRA. BACON. 1 Printed from a Brit. Mus. MS. by Park, "Walpole's Royal and Noble Authors," vol. ii. p. 217, and Spedding, "Bacon's Works," vol. vii. p. 269. I have corrected one or two words from an anonymous copy in Chetham MS. 8012, p. 79, which, however, omits lines 7 and 8. XXIV. I. DE MORTE.1 (Author unknown.) AN'S life's a tragedy: his mother's womb, M This spacious earth the theatre; and the stage That country which he lives in: passions, rage, The former act consisteth of dumb shows; IGNOTO. II. EPIGRAM.2 (Author unknown.) F breath were made for every man to buy, The poor man could not live,—rich would not die. 1 "Rel. Wotton." Claimed without authority for Raleigh by Brydges and the Oxford editors. 2" Rel. Wotton." XXV. SPECIMENS OF EPIGRAMS BY I. JOHN HOSKINS TO HIS LITTLE CHILD BENJAMIN, WEET Benjamin, since thou art young. Ad Filiolum suum Benjamin.2 Duм puer es, vanæ nescisque incommoda vocis, Vincula da linguæ, vel tibi lingua dabit. II. VERSES PRESENTED TO THE KING BY MRS. HOSKINS, IN THE BEHALF OF HER HUSBAND, PRISONER.3 HE worst is told; the best is hid: Men more to blame have been preferred. "Rel. Wotton." edit. 1672. Often found in MSS. with the Latin version here appended. 2 MS. Malone 19, p. 141; Mr. Pickering's MS. fol. 151, &c. 3 MS. Malone 16, p. 20; in other MSS. in a longer form. |