$
TEXT_EXPL_XML <p>You little thinke, what plague it is to bee,<lb/>
                                In plight like him, whom pictur'd here you see.<lb/>
                                His winged-Arme, and his up-lifted-eyes,<lb/>
                                Declare, that hee hath Wit, and Will, to rise:<lb/>
                                The Stone, which clogs his other hand, may show<lb/>
                                That, Povertie and Fortune, keepe him low:<lb/>
                                And, twixt these two, the Bodie and the Mind,<lb/>
                                Such labours, and such great vexations finde,<lb/>
                                That, if you did not such mens wants contemne,<lb/>
                                You could not chuse but helpe, or pitie them.<lb/>
                                All Ages had (and, this I know hath some)<lb/>
                                Such men, as to this misery, doe come:<lb/>
                                And, many of them, at their Lot, so grieve,<lb/>
                                As if they knew, (or did at least beleeve)<lb/>
                                That, had their Wealth suffiz'd them to aspire<lb/>
                                (To what their Witts deserve, and they desire )<lb/>
                                The present Age, and future Ages too,<lb/>
                                Might gaine have had, from what they thought to doe.<lb/>
                                Perhaps I dream'd so once: But, God be prais'd,<lb/>
                                The Clog which kept me downe, from being rais'd,<lb/>
                                Was chain'd so fast, that (if such Dreames I had)<lb/>
                                My thoughts, and longings, are not now so mad.<lb/>
                                For, plaine I see, that, had my Fortunes brought<lb/>
                                Such Wealth, at first, as my small Wit hath sought;<lb/>
                                I might my selfe, and others, have undone,<lb/>
                                Instead of Courses, which I thought to runne.<lb/>
                                I finde my Povertie, for mee was fit;<lb/>
                                Yea, and a Blessing, greater than my Wit :<lb/>
                                And, whether, now, I rich or poore become,<lb/>
                                Tis nor much pleasing, nor much troublesome.<lb/>
                            </p>
                        
PREV embstma_1903_emblem141
SEQ 142
PARENT embstma_1903
TYPE emblem pictura
TIPE emblempictura
NEXT embstma_1903_emblem143
IIHIM GUL
; EMBLEMS
; ILL_BOOK
CAPTION_EN Povertà in uno ch'habbia bell'ingegno: a young man raises a winged hand while being held down by a block of stone tied to his other hand; David and Goliath in the background
SOURCE_FILE embstma_1903.xml
LINK_FACSIMILE embstma_1903_fac178
MOTTO_LA <p>PAVPERTATE PREMOR SUBLEUOR INGENIO.</p>
                        
HIM GUL
; EMBLEMS
; ILL_BOOK
IC 25D12
; 25I5
; 26C6
; 31A2245:25F(+342)
; 31A2511
; 31A2515
; 31A2721(+0)
; 31B6211
; 31B6241
; 55A12:52A43
; 55BB1(+4)
; 71H1442
; 86(PAUPERTATE PREMOR SUBLEVOR INGENIO)
MOTTO_EN <p>My Wit got Wings and, high had flowne.<lb/>
                                But, Povertie did keepe mee downe.</p>
                        
URL_IMAGE embstma_1903_pic178.jpg
ID embstma_1903_emblem142
MOTTO_LA_NORM Paupertate premor sublevor ingenio
CHILDREN 
CHILDREN_SQRT 0