Contemplations. 375
IS
Who fanc3'es not his looks now at the Barr,
His face like death, his heart with horror fraught,
Nor Male-fa6for ever felt like warr,
When deep difpair, with wifh of life hath fought,
Branded with guilt, and crufht with treble woes,
A Vagabond to Land of Nod he goes.
A City builds, that wals might him fecure from foes.
16 [225]
Who thinks not oft upon the Fathers ages.
Their long defcent, how nephews fons they faw,
The ftarry obfervations of thofe Sages,
And how their precepts to their fons were law,
How Adam figh'd to fee his Progeny,
Cloath'd all in his black finfull Liver}',
Who neither guilt, nor yet the punifhment could fl}'.
17
Our Life compare we with their length of dayes
Who to the tenth of theirs doth now arrive.'^
And though thus fhort, we fliorten many wayes,
Living fo little while we are alive;
In eating, drinking, fleeping, vain delight
So unawares comes on perpetual night,
And puts all pleafures vain unto eternal flight.
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