Ancient Poems, Ballads and Songs of England | Page 5

condensed and admirable thought, as
well as diversified with exuberant imagery, and embellished with
peculiar felicity of language: the moral points in the closing couplets of
the stanzas are often powerfully enforced.' Most readers will agree in
the justice of these remarks. The poem was, probably, as Clare
supposes, written about the commencement of the 18th century; and the
unknown author appears to have been deeply imbued with the spirit of
the popular devotional writers of the preceding century, as Herbert,

Quarles, &c., but seems to have modelled his smoother and more
elegant versification after that of the poetic school of his own times.]
'Vanity of vanities, all is vanity.'--SOLOMON.
What are life's joys and gains?
What pleasures crowd its ways,
That
man should take such pains
To seek them all his days?
Sift this
untoward strife
On which thy mind is bent,
See if this chaff of life

Is worth the trouble spent.
Is pride thy heart's desire?
Is power thy climbing aim?
Is love thy
folly's fire?
Is wealth thy restless game?
Pride, power, love, wealth
and all,
Time's touchstone shall destroy,
And, like base coin, prove
all
Vain substitutes for joy.
Dost think that pride exalts
Thyself in other's eyes,
And hides thy
folly's faults,
Which reason will despise?
Dost strut, and turn, and
stride,
Like walking weathercocks?
The shadow by thy side

Becomes thy ape, and mocks.
Dost think that power's disguise
Can make thee mighty seem?
It
may in folly's eyes,
But not in worth's esteem:
When all that thou
canst ask,
And all that she can give,
Is but a paltry mask
Which
tyants wear and live.
Go, let thy fancies range
And ramble where they may;
View power
in every change,
And what is the display?
- The country magistrate,

The lowest shade in power,
To rulers of the state,
The meteors of
an hour: -
View all, and mark the end
Of every proud extreme,
Where flattery
turns a friend,
And counterfeits esteem;
Where worth is aped in
show,

That doth her name purloin,
Like toys of golden glow

That's sold for copper coin.

Ambition's haughty nod,
With fancies may deceive,
Nay, tell thee
thou'rt a god, -
And wilt thou such believe?
Go, bid the seas be dry,

Go, hold earth like a ball,
Or throw her fancies by,
For God can
do it all.
Dost thou possess the dower
Of laws to spare or kill?
Call it not
heav'nly power
When but a tyrant's will;
Know what a God will do,

And know thyself a fool,
Nor tyrant-like pursue
Where He alone
should rule.
Dost think, when wealth is won,
Thy heart has its desire?
Hold ice
up to the sun,
And wax before the fire;
Nor triumph o'er the reign

Which they so soon resign;
In this world weigh the gain,
Insurance
safe is thine.
Dost think life's peace secure
In houses and in land?
Go, read the
fairy lure
To twist a cord of sand;
Lodge stones upon the sky,

Hold water in a sieve,
Nor give such tales the lie,
And still thine
own believe.
Whoso with riches deals,
And thinks peace bought and sold,
Will
find them slippery eels,
That slide the firmest hold:
Though sweet
as sleep with health,
Thy lulling luck may be,
Pride may o'erstride
thy wealth,
And check prosperity.
Dost think that beauty's power,
Life's sweetest pleasure gives?
Go,
pluck the summer flower,
And see how long it lives:
Behold, the
rays glide on,
Along the summer plain,
Ere thou canst say, they're
gone, -
And measure beauty's reign.
Look on the brightest eye,
Nor teach it to be proud,
But view the
clearest sky
And thou shalt find a cloud;
Nor call each face ye meet

An angel's, 'cause it's fair,
But look beneath your feet,
And think
of what ye are.

Who thinks that love doth live
In beauty's tempting show,
Shall find
his hopes ungive,
And melt in reason's thaw;
Who thinks that
pleasure lies
In every fairy bower,
Shall oft, to his surprise,
Find
poison in the flower.
Dost lawless pleasures grasp?
Judge not thou deal'st in joy;
Its
flowers but hide the asp,
Thy revels to destroy:
Who trusts a harlot's
smile,
And by her wiles is led,
Plays with a sword the while,

Hung dropping o'er his head.
Dost doubt my warning song?
Then doubt the sun gives light,

Doubt truth to teach thee wrong,
And wrong alone as right;
And
live as lives the knave,
Intrigue's deceiving guest,
Be tyrant, or be
slave,
As suits thy ends the best.
Or pause amid thy toils,
For visions won and lost,
And count the
fancied spoils,
If e'er they quit the cost;
And if they still possess

Thy mind, as worthy things,
Pick straws with Bedlam Bess,
And
call them diamond rings.
Thy folly's past advice,
Thy heart's already won,
Thy fall's above all
price,
So go, and be undone;
For all who thus prefer
The seeming
great for small,
Shall make wine vinegar,
And sweetest honey gall.
Wouldst heed the truths I sing,
To profit wherewithal,
Clip folly's
wanton wing,
And keep her within call:
I've little else to give,

What thou canst easy try,
The lesson how to live,

Is but to learn to
die.
Poem: THE LIFE AND AGE OF MAN.
[From one of Thackeray's Catalogues, preserved in the British Museum,
it appears that The Life and Age of Man was one of the productions
printed by him at the 'Angel in Duck Lane, London.' Thackeray's
imprint is found attached to broadsides published between 1672 and
1688, and he probably