S. AUGUST.

The sufficiency of my merit, is, to know that my merit is not sufficient.

S. GREG. Mor. xxv.

By how much the less man seeth himself, by so much the less he displeaseth himself; and by how much the more he seeth the light of grace, by so much the more he disdaineth the light of nature.

S. GREG. Mor.

The light of the understanding, humility kindleth, and pride covereth.

EPIG. 1.

Thou blow'st heav'n's fire the whilst thou go'st about, Rebellious fool, in vain, to blow it out:

Thy folly adds confusion to thy death;

Heav'n's fire confounds, when fann'd with folly's breath.

ECCLES.

Donec totum expleat Orbem.

Nor crafe his Cares, till this low Worlds vast round,

Within his vain, the eager Grap be found.

II.

ECCLES. vi. 8.

There is no end of all his labour, neither is his eye satis fied with riches.

How our widen'd arms can overstretch

Their own dimensions! How our hands can reach Beyond their distance! How our yielding breast Can shrink to be more full, and full possest Of this inferior orb! How earth refin'd Can cling to sordid earth! How kind to kind! We gape, we grasp, we gripe, add store to store; Enough requires too much; too much craves more. We charge our souls so sore beyond their stint, That we recoil or burst: the busy mint

Of our laborious thoughts is ever going,

And coining new desires; desires not knowing
Where next to pitch; but, like the boundless ocean,
Gain, and gain ground, and grow more strong by motion.
The pale-fac'd lady of the black-ey'd light

First tips her horned brows with easy light,
Whose curious train of spangled nymphs attire
Her next night's glory with increasing fire;
Each ev'ning adds more lustre, and adorns
The growing beauty of her grasping horns:
She sucks and draws her brother's golden store,
Until her glutted orb can suck no more.
Ev'n so the vulture of insatiate minds

Still wants, and wanting seeks, and seeking finds,
New fuel to increase her rav'nous fire.

The grave is sooner cloy'd than men's desire :
We cross the seas, and 'midst her waves we burn,
Transporting lives, perchance, that ne'er return :
We sack, we ransack to the utmost sands
Of native kingdoms, and of foreign lands;

We

We travel sea and soil, we pry, we prowl, and we prog from pole to pole;

We progress,
We spend our mid-day sweat, our midnight oil,
We tire the night in thought, the day in toil:
We make art servile, and the trade gentile
(Yet both corrupted with ingenious guile),
To compass earth, and, with her empty store,
To fill our arms, and grasp one handful more ;
Thus seeking rest our labours never cease,
But, as our years, our hot desires increase;
Thus we, poor little worlds! with blood and sweat,
In vain attempt to comprehend the great:
Thus, in our gain, become we gainful losers;
And what's inclos'd, incloses the inclosers.
Now, reader, close thy book, and then advise;
Be wisely worldly, be not worldly wise:
Let not thy nobler thoughts be always raking
The world's base dunghill; vermin's took by taking :
Take heed thou trust not the deceitful lap
Of wanton Delilah; the world's a trap.

HUGO