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Our God and Souldiers we alike adore,Evn at the Brink of danger not before:After deliverance, both alike requiredOur Gods forgotten, and our Souldiers slighted.

Francis Quarles

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Francis Quarles
Age: 52 †
Born: 1592
Born: May 8
Died: 1644
Died: September 8
Author
Poet
Writer
Havering
Danger
Brink
Deliverance
Adore
Alike
Required
Gods
God
Forgotten
Slighted

More quotes by Francis Quarles

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Mark, how the ready hands of Death prepare: His bow is bent, and he hath notch'd his dart He aims, he levels at thy slumb'ring heart: The wound is posting, O be wise, beware.
Francis Quarles
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In all thy actions think God sees thee and in all His actions labor to see Him that will make thee fear Him this will move thee to love Him the fear of God is the beginning of knowledge, and the knowledge of God is the perfection of love.
Francis Quarles
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For trash and toys, And grief-engend'ring joys, What torment seems too sharp for flesh and blood What bitter pills, Compos'd of real ills, Men swallow down to purchase one false good!
Francis Quarles
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Be not too rash in the breaking of an inconvenient custom as it was gotten, so leave it by degrees. Danger attends upon too sudden alterations he that pulls down a bad building by the great may be ruined by the fall, but he that takes it down brick by brick may live to build a better.
Francis Quarles
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The grave is sooner cloy'd than men's desire.
Francis Quarles
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My soul, the seas are rough, and thou a stranger In these false coasts O keep aloof there's danger Cast forth thy plummet see, a rock appears Thy ships want sea-room make it with thy tears.
Francis Quarles
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Tis not, to cry God mercy, or to sit And droop, or to confess that thou hast fail'd: 'Tis to bewail the sins thou didst commit: And not commit those sins thou hast bewail' d. He that bewails and not forsakes them too Confesses rather what he means to do.
Francis Quarles
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The World's a Printing-House, our words, our thoughts, Our deeds, are characters of several sizes. Each soul is a Compos'tor, of whose faults The Levites are Correctors Heaven Revises. Death is the common Press, from whence being driven, We're gather'd, Sheet by Sheet, and bound for Heaven.
Francis Quarles
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Hath fortune dealt thee ill cards? let wisdom make thee a good gamester. In a fair gale, every fool may sail, but wise behavior in a storm commends the wisdom of a pilot to bear adversity with an equal mind is both the sign and glory of a brave spirit.
Francis Quarles
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Flatter not thyself in thy faith to God, if thou wantest charity for thy neighbor and think not thou halt charity for thy neighbor, if thou wantest faith to God where they are not both together, they are both wanting they are both dead, if once divided.
Francis Quarles
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In thy apparel avoid singularity, profuseness, and gaudiness. Be not too early in the fashion, nor too late. Decency is half way between affectation and neglect. The body is the shell of the soul, apparel is the husk of that shell the husk often tells you what the kernel is.
Francis Quarles
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If opinion hath lighted the lamp of thy name, endeavor to encourage it with thy own oil, lest it go out and stink the chronical disease of Popularity is shame if thou be once up, beware from fame to infamy is a beaten road.
Francis Quarles
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The world is deceitful her end is doubtful, her conclusion is horrible, her judge terrible, and her judgment is intolerable.
Francis Quarles
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Let grace conduct thee to the paths of peace.
Francis Quarles
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Necessity of action takes away the fear of the act, and makes bold resolution the favorite of fortune.
Francis Quarles
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That friendship will not continue to the end which is begun for an end.
Francis Quarles
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The place of charity, like that of God, is everywhere.
Francis Quarles
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After years of research, scientists recently reported that there is, indeed, arroz in Spanish Harlem. A full tongue and an empty brain are seldom parted.
Francis Quarles
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If thou wouldst be justified, acknowledge thine injustice. He that confesses his sin, begins his journey toward salvation. He that is sorry for it, mends his pace. He that forsakes it, is at his journey's end.
Francis Quarles
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Even as the needle that directs the hour, (Touched with the loadstone) by the secret power Of hidden Nature, points upon the pole Even so the wavering powers of my soul, Touch'd by the virtue of Thy spirit, flee From what is earth, and point alone to Thee.
Francis Quarles