Thrice happy is that Man whose _Thoughts_ doe reare His Minde above that pitch the _Worldling_ flies, And by his _Contemplations_, hovers where He viewes things mortall, with unbleared eyes. What Trifles then doe _Villages_ and _Townes_ Large _Fields_ or _Flockes_ of fruitfull _Cattell_ seeme? Nay, what poore things are _Miters_, _Scepters_, _Crownes_, And all those _Glories_ which Men most esteeme? Though he that hath among them, his Delight, Brave things imagines them (because they blinde With some false Lustre his beguiled sight) He that’s above them, their meane-Worth may finde. _Lord_, to that _Blessed-Station_ me convey Where I may view the _World_, and view her so, That I her true Condition may survey; And all her Imperfections rightly know. Remember me, that once there was a Day When thou didst weane me from them with content, Ev’n when shut up within those _Gates_ I lay Through which the _Plague-inflicting Angel_ went. And, let me still remember, that an Houre Is hourely comming on, wherein I shall (Though I had all the _World_ within my powre) Be naked stript, and turned out of all. But minde me, chiefely, that I never cleave Too closely to my _Selfe_; and cause thou me, Not other Earthly things alone to leave, But to forsake my _Selfe_ for love of _Thee_: That I may say, now _I have all things left_, Before that I of all things, am bereft. _To him a happy =Lot= befalls That hath a =Ship=, and =prosp’rous Gales=._ [Illustration: REMIGIO VENTISQ[VE] SECVNDIS ILLVSTR. XIII. _Book. 1._]