$
TEXT_EXPL_XML <p>There is no Day, nor minute of the Day<lb/>
                                In which, there are not many sent away<lb/>
                                From Life to Death ; or, many drawing on,<lb/>
                                Which, must within a little while bee gone.<lb/>
                                You, often, view the Grave ; you, often, meet<lb/>
                                The Buriers, and the Mourners, in the street,<lb/>
                                Conveying of some Neighbour, to that home,<lb/>
                                Which must, e're long, your dwelling-place become.<lb/>
                                You see the Race, of many a youthfull Sonne<lb/>
                                Is finish'd, e're his Father's Course is done;<lb/>
                                And, that, the hand of Death, regardeth neither<lb/>
                                Sexe, Youth, nor Age; but, mingleth all together.<lb/>
                                You, many times, in your owne houses, heare<lb/>
                                The groanes of Death, and view your Children there,<lb/>
                                Your lov'ng Parents, or, beloved Wives.<lb/>
                                To gaspe for breath, and, labour for their lives.<lb/>
                                Nay, you your selves, do sometime find the paines<lb/>
                                Of Sicknesse, in your Bowels, and your Vaines,<lb/>
                                The Harbingers of Death, sometime, begin<lb/>
                                To take up your whole Bodie, for their Inne.<lb/>
                                You beare their heavie Aches, on your back;<lb/>
                                You feele their twinges, make your heartstrings crack;<lb/>
                                And, sometime, lye imprison'd, and halfe dead,<lb/>
                                With Age, or with Diseases, on your bed:<lb/>
                                Yet you deferre your ends; and, still contrive,<lb/>
                                For temp'rall things; as if you thought to live<lb/>
                                Sixe Ages longer: or had quite forgot,<lb/>
                                That, you, and others, draw one common-Lot.<lb/>
                                But, that, you might not still, the same forget,<lb/>
                                This Emblem, and this Motto, here were set.<lb/>
                            </p>
                        
PREV embstma_1903_emblem149
SEQ 150
PARENT embstma_1903
TYPE emblem pictura
TIPE emblempictura
NEXT embstma_1903_emblem151
IIHIM GUL
; EMBLEMS
; ILL_BOOK
CAPTION_EN A naked boy resting his elbow on a skull, holding an ear of corn, and contemplating a candle that stands on an hourglass and is blown out by the wind
SOURCE_FILE embstma_1903.xml
LINK_FACSIMILE embstma_1903_fac186
MOTTO_LA <p>HODIE MIHI CRAS TIBI.</p>
                        
HIM GUL
; EMBLEMS
; ILL_BOOK
IC 11R5
; 11R71
; 23U22
; 25H1123
; 31A25312
; 31B13
; 31F11
; 31D11221(+55)
; 31D11221(+89)
; 41B31(+2)
; 47I1111
; 52B11
; 58BB1(+4)
; 86(HODIE MIHI CRAS TIBI)
MOTTO_EN <p>This Day, my Houre-glasse, forth is runne;<lb/>
                                Thy Torch, to Morrow, may bee done.</p>
                        
URL_IMAGE embstma_1903_pic186.jpg
ID embstma_1903_emblem150
MOTTO_LA_NORM Hodie mihi cras tibi
CHILDREN 
CHILDREN_SQRT 0