And, in a furious march, he's coming on,
Swift as the raging inundation,

To scour the sinful world, 'gainst which is bent
Artillery that never can be spent!—

Bows strung with vengeance, and flame-feathered darts,

Headed with death, to wound transgressing hearts;
His chariot-wheels wrapt in the whirlwind's gyre;
His horses hoof'd with flint and shod with fire,
In which amaze, where'er they fix their eye,
Or on the melting earth, or up on high,

To seek heaven's shrunk lights, nothing shall appear

But night and horror in their hemisphere;

Nor shall the affrighted sense more objects know, Than darken'd skies above, and hell below.

A PENITENTIAL HYMN.

HEARKEN, O God! unto a wretch's cries,
Who low dejected at thy footstool lies.
Let not the clamour of my heinous sin
Drown my requests, which strive to enter in
At these bright gates, which always open stand
To such as beg permission at thy hand.

For well I know, if thou in rigour deal,

I can nor pardon ask, not yet appeal;

To my hoarse voice heaven will no audience grant,

But deaf as brass, and hard as adamant,

Beat back my words: therefore I bring to thee

A gracious Advocate to plead for me.

What though my lep'rous soul no Jordan can
Recure, nor floods of the lav'd ocean

Make clean? Yet, from my Saviour's bleeding side

Two large and medicinal rivers glide:

Lord! wash me where those streams of life abound, And new Bethesdas flow from every wound.

FRANCIS QUARLES.

BORN 1592; DIED 1664.

THE chief poems of Quarles are, the "Scripture Histories of Sampson, Job, Esther, and Jonah ;" "Emblems;" the "School of the Heart;" "Sion's Elegies ;" and "Hieroglyphics of the Life of Man ;" of which, the "Emblems" alone continued to retain some degree of popular esteem within the memory of the existing generation. Quarles was a writer of extensive learning, a lively fancy, and profound piety. His style, everywhere devoid of polish, presents nevertheless some of the best specimens of manly and vigorous versification to be found among our poets of the second order; but is debased by vulgarisms, and deformed by quaint conceits. The space assigned to the following selections may appear disproportionately large to those who have only beheld from a distance that languid twilight of the author's fame, which lingers among the few who yet read his "Emblems," and perhaps one or two of his lessremembered works, merely as aids to devotion. It is believed, however, that few persons will attentively peruse these specimens, without imbibing a wish to become further acquainted with the volumes from which they are derived.

FRANCIS QUARLES.

VANITY OF THE WORLD.

FALSE world, thou ly'st: thou canst not lend
The least delight:

Thy favours cannot gain a friend,

They are so slight:

Thy morning pleasures make an end

To please at night:

Poor are the wants that thou supply'st

And yet thou vaunt'st, and yet thou vy'st With heaven; fond earth, thou boasts; false world, thou ly'st.

Thy babbling tongue tells golden tales

Of endless treasure;

Thy bounty offers easy sales

Of lasting pleasure;

Thou ask'st the conscience what she ails,

And swear'st to ease her:

There's none can want where thou supply'st:

There's none can give where thy deny'st.

Alas! fond world, thou boasts; false world, thou

ly'st.