A Massie _Mil-stone_ up a tedious Hill, With mighty Labour, _Sisyphus_ doth roll; Which being rais’d-aloft, downe-tumbleth, still, To keepe imployed his afflicted _Soule_. On him, this tedious Labour is impos’d; And (though in vaine) it must be still assayd: But, some, by no Necessity inclos’d, Vpon themselves, such needlesse Taskes have layd. Yea, knowing not (or caring not to know) That they are worne and weary’d out in vaine, They madly toyle to plunge themselves in Woe; And, seeke uncertaine _Ease_, in certaine _Paine_. Such _Fooles_ are they, who dreame they can acquire A Minde-content, by _Lab’ring still for more_: For, _Wealth_ encreasing, doth encrease _Desire_, And makes _Contentment_ lesser then before. Such _Fooles_ are they, whose _Hopes_ doe vainely stretch To climbe by _Titles_, to a happy Height: For, having gotten one _Ambitious-Reach_, Another comes perpetually in sight. And, their stupidity is nothing lesse, Who dreame that _Flesh_ and _Blood_ may raysed be Vp to the _Mount of perfect-Holinesse_: For (at our best) corrupt and vile are we. Yet, we are bound by _Faith_, with _Love_ and _Hope_, To roll the Stone of _Good-Endeavour_, still, As neere as may be, to _Perfections top_, Though backe againe it tumble downe the _Hill_. So; What our _Workes_ had never power to doe, _God’s_ Grace, at last, shall freely bring us to. _As, to the =World= I =naked= came, So, =naked=-stript I leave the same._ [Illustration: ΠΑΝΤΑ ΛΕΛΟΙΠΑ ILLVSTR. XII. _Book. 1._]