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BUT as the world's Sun doth effect beget

Diff'rent, in divers places ev'ry day; Here autumn's temperature, there summer's heat; Here flow'ry spring-tide, and there winter grey.

Here ev❜n, there morn; here noon, there day, there night, [some dead;

Melts wax, dries clay, makes flow'rs, some quick, Makes the Moor black, the European white;

Th' American tawny, and th' East Indian red:

So in our little world, this soul of ours

Being only one, and to one body ty'd, Doth use, on divers objects, divers powers; And so are her effects diversify'd.



HER quick'ning power in ev'ry living part, Doth as a nurse or as a mother serve; And doth employ her economic art,

And busy care, her household to preserve.

Here she attracts, and there she doth retain; There she decocts, and doth the food prepare; There she distributes it to ev'ry vein,

There she expels what she may fitly spare.

This pow'r to Martha may compared be, Who busy was, the household things to do: Or to a Dryas, living in a tree :

For e'en to trees this pow'r is proper too.

And though the soul may not this pow'r extend
Out of the body, but still use it there;
She hath a pow'r which she abroad doth send,
Which views and searcheth all things ev'ry where.

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Here are they guides, which do the body lead,
Which else would stumble in eternal night:
Here in this world they do much knowledge read,
And are the casements which admit most light:

They are her furthest reaching instrument,

Yet they no beams unto their objects send; But all the rays are from their objects sent, And in the eyes with pointed angles end.

If th' objects be far off, the rays do meet

In a sharp point, and so things seem but small: If they be near, their rays do spread and fleet, And make broad points, that things seem great withal.

Lastly, uine things to sight required are;

The pow'r to see, the light, the visible thing, Being not too small, too thin, too nigh, too far, Clear space and time, the form distinct to bring.

Thus see we how the soul doth use the eyes,

As instruments of her quick pow'r of sight: Hence doth th' arts optic, and fair painting rise; Painting, which doth all gentle minds delight.



THIS power is sense, which from abroad doth bring The colour, taste, and touch, and scent, and sound, The quantity and shape of ev'ry thing

Within Earth's centre, or Heav'n's circle found.

This pow'r, in parts made fit, fit objects takes;
Yet not the things, but forms of things receives;
As when a seal in wax impression makes,

The print therein, but not itself, it leaves.

And though things sensible be numberless,
But only five the sense's organs be;
And in those five, all things their forms express,
Which we can touch, taste, feel, or hear, or see.
These are the windows, through the which she views
The light of knowledge, which is life's load-star:
"And yet while she these spectacles doth use,

Oft worldly things seem greater than they are."



Now let us hear how she the ears employs : Their office is, the troubled air to take; Which in their mazes forms a sound or noise, Whereof herself doth true distinction make.

These wickets of the soul are plac'd on high,
Because all sounds do lightly mount aloft;
And that they may not pierce too violently,
They are delay'd with turns and windings oft.

For should the voice directly strike the brain,
It would astonish and confuse it much;
Therefore these plaits and folds the sound restrain,
That it the organ may more gently touch.

As streams, which with their winding banks do play,
Stopp'd by their creeks, run softly through the
So in th' ear's labyrinth the voice doth stray, [plain:
And doth with easy motion touch the brain.

This is the slowest, yet the daintiest sense;
For e'en the ears of such as have no skill,
Perceive a discord, and conceive offence;
And, knowing not what 's good, yet find the ill.

And though this sense first gentle music found,
Her proper object is the speech of men;
But that speech chiefly which God's heralds sound,
When their tongues utter what his spirit did pen.

Our eyes have lids, our ears still ope we see,
Quickly to hear how ev'ry tale is prov'd:
Our eyes still move, our ears unmoved be;
That though we hear quick, we be not quickly

Thus by the organs of the eye and ear,

The soul with knowledge doth herself endue: "Thus she her prison may with pleasure bear, Having such prospects, all the world to view."

These conduit-pipes of knowledge feed the mind,
But th' other three attend the body still;
For by their services the soul doth find,
What things are to the body good or ill.



THE body's life with meats and air is fed,
Therefore the soul doth use the tasting pow'r
In veins, which through the tongue and palate spread,
Distinguish ev'ry relish, sweet and sour.

This is the body's nurse; but since man's wit
Found th' art of cook'ry to delight his sense,
More bodies are consum'd and kill'd with it,
Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence.



NEXT, in the nostrils she doth use the smell:
As God the breath of life in them did give;
So makes he now this pow'r in them to dwell,
To judge all airs, whereby we breathe and live.

This sense is also mistress of an art,

Which to soft people sweet perfumes doth sell; Though this dear art doth little good impart, "Since they smell best, that do of nothing smell."

And yet good scents do purify the brain,
Awake the fancy, and the wits refine:
Hence old Devotion incense did ordain,
To make men's spirits apt for thoughts divine.



LASTLY, the feeling pow'r, which is life's root, Through ev'ry living part itself doth shed By sinews, which extend from head to foot; And, like a net, all o'er the body spread.

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This ledger-book lies in the brain behind,

Like Janus' eye, which in his poll was set : The layman's tables, storehouse of the mind; Which doth remember much, and much forget.

Here sense's apprehension end doth take;
As when a stone is into water cast,
One circle doth another circle make,

Till the last circle touch the bank at last.



BUT now I have a will, yet want a wit,

T' express the working of the wit and will; Which, though their root be to the body knit, Use not the body, when they use their skill.

These pow'rs the nature of the soul declare,

For to man's soul these only proper be; For on the Earth no other wights there are That have these heavenly powers, but only we.



BUT though the apprehensive pow'r do pause,
The motive virtue then begins to move;
Which in the heart below doth passions cause,
Joy, grief, and fear, and hope, and hate, and love.

These passions have a free commanding might,
And divers actions in our life do breed;
For all acts done without true reason's light,
Do from the passion of the sense proceed.

'But since the brain doth lodge the pow'rs of sense, How makes it in the heart those passions spring? The mutual love, the kind intelligence

'Twixt heart and brain, this sympathy doth bring.

From the kind heat, which in the heart doth reign,
The spirits of life do their beginning take;
These spirits of life ascending to the brain, [make.
When they come there, the spirits of sense do

These spirits of sense, in fantasy's high court,
Judge of the forms of objects, ill or well;
And so they send a good or ill report
Down to the heart, where all affections dwell.

If the report be good, it causeth love,

And longing hope, and well assured joy: If it be ill, then doth it hatred move, And trembling fear, and vexing griefs annoy.

Yet were these natural affections good, (For they which want them, blocks or devils be) If reason in her first perfection stood,

That she might Nature's passions rectify.



BESIDES, another motive-power doth 'rise

Out of the heart, from whose pure blood do spring The vital spirits; which, born in arteries, Continual motion to all parts do bring.

This makes the pulses beat, and lungs respire;
This holds the sinews like a bridle's reins;
And makes the body to advance, retire,
To turn, or stop, as she them slacks or strains.

Thus the soul tunes the body's instruments,

These harmonies she makes with life and sense; The organs fit are by the body lent,

But th' actions flow from the soul's influence.




THE wit, the pupil of the soul's clear eye,
And in man's world the only shining star,
Looks in the mirrour of the fantasy,

Where all the gath'rings of the senses are.

From thence this pow'r the shapes of things abstracts,
Which are enlight'ned by that part which acts;
And them within her passive part receives,
And so the forms of single things perceives.

But after, by discoursing to and fro,

Anticipating and comparing things, She doth all universal natures know,

And all effects into their causes brings.

When she rates things, and moves from ground to ground,

The name of reason she obtains by this: But when by reason she the truth hath found, And standeth fix'd, she understanding is.

When her assent she lightly doth incline
To either part, she is opinion's light:
But when she doth by principles define

A certain truth, she hath true judgment's sight.

And as from senses, reason's work doth spring,
So many reasons understanding gain;
And many understandings, knowledge bring,
And by much knowledge, wisdom we obtain.

So, many stairs we must ascend upright
Ere we attain to wisdom's high degree:
So doth this Earth eclipse our reason's light,
Which else (in instants) would like angels see.



YET hath the soul a dowry natural,

And sparks of light, some common things to see;
Not being a blank where naught is writ at all,
But what the writer will, may written be.

For Nature in man's heart her laws doth pen,
Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will;
Which do accuse, or else excuse all men,
For ev'ry thought or practice, good or ill:

And yet these sparks grow almost infinite,

Making the world, and all therein, their food; As fire so spreads, as no place holdeth it,

Being nourish'd still with new supplies of wood.

And though these sparks were almost quench'd with Yet they whom that just One hath justify'd, [sin, Have them increas'd with heav'nly light within; And like the widow's oil, still multiply'd.



AND as this wit should goodness truly know,

We have a will, which that true good should choose,

Though will do oft (when wit false forms doth show)
Take ill for good, and good for ill refuse.

Will puts in practice what the wit deviseth :
Will ever acts, and wit contemplates still:
And as from wit the pow'r of wisdom riseth,
All other virtues daughters are of will.

Will is the prince, and wit the counsellor, Which doth for common good in council sit; And when wit is resolv'd, will lends her pow'r To execute what is advis'd by wit.

Wit is the mind's chief judge, which doth control Of fancy's court the judgments false and vain: Will holds the royal sceptre in the soul,

And on the passions of the heart doth reign.

Will is as free as any emperor,

Naught can restrain her gentle liberty: No tyrant, nor no torment hath the pow'r To make us will, when we unwilling be.



To these high pow'rs a store-house doth pertain,
Where they all arts and gen'ral reasons lay;
Which in the soul, e'en after death, remain,
And no Lethean flood can wash away.

Ev'n so the king his magistrates do serve,

Yet commons feed both magistrates and king:
The common's peace the magistrates preserve,
By borrow'd pow'r, which from the prince doth

The quick'ning power would be, and so would rest;
The sense would not be only, but be well:
But wit's ambition longeth to the best,

For it desires in endless bliss to dwell.

And these three pow'rs three sorts of men do make;
For some, like plants, their veins do only fill;
And some, like beasts, their senses' pleasure take;
And some, like angels, do contemplate still.
Therefore the fables turn'd some men to flow'rs,
And others did with brutish forms invest;
And did of others make celestial pow'rs,

Like angels, which still travel, yet still rest.

Yet these three pow'rs are not three souls, but one;
As one and two are both contain'd in three;
Three being one number by itself alone,
A shadow of the blessed Trinity.

Oh! what is man, great Maker of mankind! That thou to him so great respect dost bear! That thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind, Mak'st him a king, and e'en an angel's peer!

Oh! what a lively life, what heav'nly pow'r, What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire, How great, how plentiful, how rich a dow'r

Dost thou within this dying flesh inspire!

Thou leav'st thy print in other works of thine; But thy whole image thou in man hast writ: There cannot be a creature more divine, Except (like thee) it should be infinite!

But it exceeds man's thought, to think how high God hath rais'd man, since God a man became : The angels do admire this mystery,

And are astonish'd when they view the same.

Nor hath he giv'n these blessings for a day,

Nor made them on the body's life depend: The soul, though made in time, survives for ay; And though it hath beginning, sees no end.



This is the soul, and these her virtues be;
Which,though they have their sundry proper ends,
And one exceeds another in degree,

Yet each on other mutually depends.

Our wit is giv'n Almighty God to know;
Our will is giv'n to love him, being known:
But God could not be known to us below, [shown.
But by his works, which through the sense are

And as the wit doth reap the fruits of sense,

So doth the quick'ning pow'r the senses feed: Thus while they do their sundry gifts dispense, "The best the service of the least doth need."



HER only end is never-ending bliss,

Which is, the eternal face of God to see; Who, last of ends, and first of causes is: And, to do this, she must eternal be.

How senseless then and dead a soul hath he, Which thinks his soul doth with his body die: Or thinks not so, but so would have it be,

That he might sin with more security?

For though these light and vicious persons say,
Our soul is but a smoke, or airy blast,
Which, during life, doth in cur nostrils play,
And when we die doth turn to wind at last :

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Water in conduit-pipes can rise no higher
Than the well-head, from whence it first doth

Although they say, "Come let us eat and drink; Our life is but a spark, which quickly dies:"

Though thus they say, they know not what to think;Then since to eternal God she doth aspire, [spring:

But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.

Therefore no heretics desire to spread
Their light opinions, like these epicures;
For so their stagg'ring thoughts are comforted,
And other meu's assent their doubt assures.

Yet though these men against their conscience strive,
There are some sparkles in their flinty breasts,
Which cannot be extinct, but still revive;

That though they would, they cannot quite be

But whoso makes a mirror of his mind,

And doth with patience view himself therein, His soul's eternity shall clearly find, Though th' other beauties be defac'd with sin.


Drawn from the desire of knowledge.

FIRST, in man's mind we find an appetite

To learn and know the truth of ev'ry thing, Which is co-natural, and born with it,

And from the essence of the soul doth spring.

With this desire, she hath a native might

To find out ev'ry truth, if she had time; Th' innumerable effects to sort aright, And by degrees, from cause to cause to climb.

But since our life so fast away doth slide,

As doth a hungry eagle through the wind; Or as a ship transported with the tide, Which in their passage leave no print behind.

Of which swift little time so much we spend,

She cannot be but an eternal thing.

"All moving things to other things do move,

Of the same kind which shows their nature such:" So earth falls down, and fire doth mount above, Till both their proper elements do touch.

And as the moisture, which the thirsty earth
Sucks from the sea, to fill her empty veins,
From out her womb at last doth take a birth,
And runs a lymph along the grassy plains:

Long doth she stay, as loath to leave the land,
From whose soft side she first did issue make:
She tastes all places, turns to ev'ry hand,
Her flow'ry banks unwilling to forsake:

Yet Nature so her streams doth lead and carry, As that her course doth make no final stay, Till she herself unto the ocean marry,

Within whose watry bosom first she lay.

E'en so the soul, which in this earthly mould The spirit of God doth secretly infuse, Because at first she doth the earth behold, And only this material world she views:

At first her mother-earth she holdeth dear,

And doth embrace the world, and worldly things; She flies close by the ground, and hovers here, And mounts not up with her celestial wings:

Yet under Heav'n she cannot light on aught That with her heav'nly nature doth agree: She cannot rest, she cannot fix her thought, She cannot in this world contented be.

For who did ever yet, in honour, wealth,
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find?

While some few things we through the sense do Who ever ceas'd to wish, when he had health?

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Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,

Which seem sweet flow'rs, with lustre fresh and She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all; [gay; But, pleas'd with none, doth rise, and soar away:

So, when the soul finds here no true content,
And, like Noah's dove, can no sure footing take,
She doth return from whence she first was sent,
And flies to him that first her wings did make.
Wit, seeking truth, from cause to cause ascends,

And never rests till it the first attain:
Will, seeking good, finds many middle ends;
But never stays till it the last do gain.

Now God the truth and first of causes is;
God is the last good end, which lasteth still;
Being alpha and omega nam'd for this;
Alpha to wit, omega to the will.

Since then her heav'nly kind she doth display,
In that to God she doth directly move;
And on no mortal thing can make her stay,
She cannot be from hence, but from above.


* The soul compared to a river.

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