At last with terror she from thence doth flye;
And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gaz'd,
And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die:
Euen so _Man's Soule_ which did God's image beare,
And was at first faire, good, and spotlesse pure;
Since with her _sinnes_ her beauties blotted were,
Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure:
For euen at first reflection she espies,
Such strange _chimeraes_, and such monsters there;
Such toyes, such _antikes_, and such vanities,
As she retires, and shrinkes for shame and feare.
[Footnote 80: Io. G.]
And as the man loues least at home to bee,
That hath a sluttish house haunted with _spirits_;[81]
So she impatient her owne faults to see,
Turnes from her selfe and in strange things delites.
For this few _know themselues_: for merchants broke
View their estate with discontent and paine;
And _seas_ are troubled, when they doe reuoke
Their flowing waues into themselues againe.
And while the face of outward things we find,
Pleasing and faire, agreeable and sweet;
These things transport, and carry out the mind,
That with her selfe her selfe[82] can neuer meet.
Yet if _Affliction_ once her warres begin,
And threat the feebler _Sense_ with sword and fire;
The _Minde_ contracts her selfe and shrinketh in,
And to her selfe she gladly doth retire:
As _Spiders_ toucht, seek their webs inmost part;
As _bees_ in stormes vnto their hiues returne;
As bloud in danger gathers to the heart;
As men seek towns, when foes the country burn.
If ought can teach vs ought, _Afflictions_ lookes,
(Making vs looke[83] into our selues so neere,)
Teach vs to _know our selues_ beyond all bookes,
Or all the learned Schooles that euer were.
This _mistresse_ lately pluckt me by the eare,
And many a golden lesson hath me taught;
Hath made my _Senses_ quicke, and Reason cleare,
Reform'd my Will and rectifide my Thought.
So doe the _winds_ and _thunders_ cleanse the ayre;
So working lees[84] settle and purge the wine;
So lop't and prunèd trees doe flourish faire;
So doth the fire the drossie gold refine.
Neither _Minerua_ nor the learnèd Muse,
Nor rules of _Art_, not _precepts_ of the wise;
Could in my braine those beames of skill infuse,
As but the glance of this _Dame's_ angry eyes.
She within _lists_[85] my ranging minde hath brought,
That now beyond my selfe I list[86] not goe;
My selfe am _center_ of my circling thought,
Onely _my selfe_ I studie, learne, and know.
I know my bodie's of so fraile a kind,
As force without, feauers within can kill;
I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will:
I know my _Soule_ hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all;
I know I am one of Nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.
I know my life's a paine and but a span,
I know my _Sense_ is mockt with euery thing:
And to conclude, I know my selfe a MAN,
Which is a _proud_, and yet a _wretched_ thing.
[Footnote 81: In 1599 and 1608 more accurately 'sprites'. G.]
[Footnote 82: Davies and Southey substitute 'the mind'. G.]
[Footnote 83: Davies and Southey, as before, mis-substitute 'pry.' G.]
[Footnote 84: An overlooked misprint here is 'seas': found in all the
author's own editions, and repeated until now, _e.g._ by Thomas Davies
and Southey, as before. G.]
[Footnote 85: Bounds: as in Race-courses. G.]
[Footnote 86: Thoms Davies, as before, mis-reads 'will'. G.]
OF THE SOULE OF MAN AND THE IMMORTALITE THEREOF.
_The lights of heau'n_ (which are the World's fair eies)
Looke downe into the World, the World to see;
And as they turne, or wander in the skies,
Suruey all things that on this _Center_ bee.
And yet the _lights_ which in my _towre_ do shine,
Mine _eyes_ which view all obiects, nigh and farre;
Looke not into this little world of mine,
Nor see my face, wherein they fixèd are.
Since _Nature_ failes vs in no needfull thing,
Why want I meanes my inward selfe to see?
Which sight the knowledg of my self might bring,
Which to true wisdome is the first degree.
That _Power_ which gaue me eyes the World to view,
To see my selfe infus'd an _inward light_;
Whereby my _Soule_, as by a mirror true,
Of her owne forme may take a perfect sight,
But as the sharpest _eye_ discerneth nought,
Except the _sunne_-beames in the ayre doe shine;
So the best _Soule_[87] with her reflecting thought,
Sees not her selfe without some light diuine.
_O Light_ which mak'st the light, which makes the day!
Which setst the eye without, and mind within;
'Lighten my spirit with one cleare heauenly ray,
Which now to view it selfe doth first begin.
For her true forme how can my sparke discerne?
Which dimme by _nature_, _Art_ did neuer cleare;
When the great wits, of whom all skill we learn,
Are ignorant both _what_ shee is, and _where_.
One thinks the _Soule_ is _aire_; another, _fire_;
Another _blood_, diffus'd about the heart;
Another saith, the _elements_ conspire,
And to her _essence_ each doth giue a part.
_Musicians_ thinke our _Soules_ are _harmonies_,
_Phisicians_ hold that they _complexions_ bee;
_Epicures_ make them swarmes of _atomies_,
Which doe by chance into our bodies flee.
Some thinke one generall _Soule_ fils euery braine,
As the bright _sunne_ sheds light in euery starre;
And others thinke the name of _Soule_ is vaine,
And that we onely _well-mixt_ bodies are.
In judgement of her _substance_ thus they vary;
And thus they vary in iudgement of her _seat_;
For some her chaire vp to the braine doe carry,
Some thrust it downe into the _stomackes_ heat.
Some place it in the root of life, the _heart_;
Some in the _liuer_[88], fountaine of the veines;
Some say, _Shee is all in all, and all in part_:
Some say, She is not containd but all containes.
Thus these great clerks their little wisdome show,
While with their doctrines they at _hazard_ play,
Tossing their light opinions to and fro,
To mocke the _lewd_, as learn'd in this as they.
For no craz'd braine could euer yet propound,
Touching the _Soule_, so vaine and fond a thought,
But some among these masters haue been found,
Which in their _Schooles_ the self-same thing haue taught.
_God onely wise_, to punish pride of wit,
Among men's wits hath this confusion wrought,
As the proud _towre_ whose points the clouds did hit,
By tongues' confusion was to ruine brought.
But _Thou_ which didst _Man's soule_ of nothing make,
And when to nothing it was fallen agen,
"To make it new, the forme of man didst take,
"And _God_ with _God_, becam'st a _Man_ with men.
Thou, that hast fashioned twice this _Soule_ of ours,
So that she is by double title Thine;
Thou onely knowest her nature and her pow'rs,
Her subtill forme Thou onely canst define.
To iudge her selfe she must her selfe transcend,
As greater circles comprehend the lesse;
But she wants power, her owne powers to extend,
As fettered men can not their strength expresse.
But Thou bright Morning Star, Thou rising _Sunne_,
Which in these later times hast brought to light
Those mysteries, that since the world begun,
Lay hid in darknesse, and eternall night:
Thou (_like the sunne_) dost with indifferent ray,
Into the _palace_ and the _cottage_ shine,
And shew'st the _soule_ both to the clerke and lay[89],
By the cleare _lampe_ of Thy _Oracle_ diuine.
[Footnote 87: 'Sense' in 1st edn. G.]
[Footnote 88: Davies and Southey misprint egregiously 'river.' G.]
[Footnote 89: Laymen. G.]
This Lampe through all the regions of my braine,
Where my _soule_ sits, doth spread such beames of grace,
As now, me thinks, I do distinguish plain,
Each subtill line of her immortall face.
WHAT THE SOULE IS.
_The soule a substance_, and a _spirit_ is,
Which _God_ Himselfe doth in the body make;
Which makes the _Man_: for euery man from this,
The _nature_ of a _Man_, and _name_ doth take.
And though this[1] spirit be to the body knit,
As an apt meane her powers to exercise;
Which are _life_, _motion_, _sense_, and _will_, and _wit_,
Yet she _suruiues_, although the body _dies_.
THAT THE SOULE IS A THING SUBSISTING BY IT SELFE WITHOUT THE
BODY.
_She is a substance_, and a reall thing,
Which hath it selfe an actuall working might;
Which neither from the Senses' power doth spring,
Nor from the bodie's humors, tempred right.
She is a _vine_, which doth no propping need,
To make her spread her selfe or spring vpright;
She is a _starre_, whose beames doe not proceed
From any _sunne_, but from a _natiue_ light.
For when she sorts things _present_ with things _past_,
And thereby things to _come_ doth oft foresee;
When she doth _doubt_ at first, and _chuse_ at last,
These acts her owne, without her body bee.
When of the deaw,[90] which the _eye_ and _eare_ doe take
From flowers abroad, and bring into the braine,
She doth within both waxe and hony make:
This worke is her's, this is her proper paine.[91]
When she from sundry acts, one skill doth draw,
Gathering from diuers fights one art[92] of warre,
From many cases like, one rule of Law;
These her collections, not the _Senses_ are.
[Footnote 90: Dew: and so spelled also by the Fletchers and other
contemporaries. G.]
[Footnote 91: Painstaking. G.]
[Footnote 92: Misprinted 'act' in the 1st edn. G.]
When in th' effects she doth the causes know,
And seeing the stream, thinks wher the spring doth rise;
And seeing the branch, conceiues the root below;
These things she views without the bodie's eyes.
When she, without a _Pegasus_, doth flie
Swifter then lightning's fire from _East_ to _West_,
About the _Center_ and aboue the _skie_,
She trauels then, although the body rest.
When all her works she formeth first within,
Proportions them, and sees their perfect end,
Ere she in act does anie part begin;
What instruments doth then the body lend?
When without hands she doth thus[93] _castles_ build,
Sees without eyes, and without feet doth runne;
When she digests the world, yet is not fil'd:
By her owne power these miracles are done.
[Footnote 93: In 1st edition 'she thus doth.' G.]
When she defines, argues, diuides, compounds,
Considers _vertue_, _vice_, and _generall things_,
And marrying diuers principles and grounds,
Out of their match a true conclusion brings.
These actions in her closet all alone,
(Retir'd within her selfe) she doth fulfill;
Vse of her bodie's organs she hath none,
When she doth vse the powers of Wit and Will.
Yet in the bodie's prison so she lies,
As through the bodie's windowes she must looke,
Her diuers powers of _sense_ to exercise,
By gath'ring notes out of the _World's_ great book.
Nor can her selfe discourse or iudge of ought,
But what the _Sense_ collects and home doth bring;
And yet the power of her discoursing thought,
From these collections, is a diuers thing.
For though our eyes can nought but colours see,
Yet colours giue them not their powre of sight;
So, though these fruits of _Sense_ her obiects bee,
Yet she discernes them by her proper light.
The workman on his stuffe his skill doth show,
And yet the stuffe giues not the man his skill;
_Kings_ their affaires do by their seruants know,
But order them by their owne royall will.
So, though this cunning mistresse and this queene,
Doth, as her instrument, the _Senses_ vse,
To know all things that are _felt_, _heard_, or _seene_,
Yet she her selfe doth onely _iudge_ and _chuse_:
Euen as our great wise _Empresse_[94] that now raignes
By _soueraigne_ title ouer sundry Lands;
Borrowes in meane affaires her _subiects_ paines,
Sees by their eyes, and writeth by their hands;
But things of waight and consequence indeed,
Her selfe doth in her chamber them debate;
Where all her Counsellers she doth exceed
As farre in iudgement, as she doth in State.
Or as the man whom she doth now aduance,[95]
Vpon her gracious _mercy-seat_ to sit;
Doth common things, of course and circumstance,
To the reports of common men commit:
[Footnote 94: Q. Eliz[abeth]. H. [Davies and Southey, as before,
substitute 'a prudent emperor.' G.]]
[Footnote 95: Davies and Southey, as before, substitute 'whom princes
do.' Ellesmere. See sonnet addressed to him among 'Minor poems.' G.]
But when the cause it selfe must be decreed,
Himselfe in person, in his proper Court,
To graue and solemne hearing doth proceed,
Of euery proofe and euery by-report.
Then, like God's angell he pronounceth right,
And milke and hony from his tongue doth flow;
Happie are they that still are in his sight,
To reape the wisedome which his lips doe sow.
Right so the _Soule_, which is a lady free,
And doth the iustice of her _State_ maintaine;
Because the senses ready seruants be,
Attending nigh about her Court, the braine:
By them the formes of outward things she learnes,
For they returne into the fantasie,
What euer each of them abroad discernes,
And there inrole it for the Minde to see.
But when she sits to iudge the good and ill,
And to discerne betwixt the false and true;
She is not guided by the _Senses'_ skill,
But doth each thing in her owne mirrour view.
Then she the _Senses_ checks, which oft do erre,
And euen against their false reports decrees;
And oft she doth condemne what they preferre,
For with a power aboue the _Sense_, she sees.
Therefore no _Sense_ the precious ioyes conceiues,
Which in her priuate contemplations bee;
For then the rauish't spirit the _Senses_ leaues,
Hath her owne powers, and proper actions free.
Her harmonies are sweet, and full of skill,
When on the Bodie's instrument she playes;
But the proportions of the _wit_ and _will_,
Those sweete accords, are euen the angel's layes.
These tunes of _Reason_ are _Amphion's_ lyre,
Wherewith he did the _Thebane_ citie found;
These are the notes wherewith the heauenly _quire_,
The praise of Him which made[96] the heauen doth sound.
[Footnote 96: 'Spreads' in 1st edn. G.]
Then her _selfe-being nature_ shines in this,
That she performes her noblest works alone;
"The _worke_, the touch-stone of the _nature_ is,
"And by their operations, things are knowne.
THAT THE SOULE IS MORE THEN A PERFECTION OR REFLECTION OF THE
SENSE.
_Are they not sencelesse_ then, that thinke the Soule
Nought but a fine perfection of the _Sense_;
Or of the formes which _fancie_ doth enroule,
A _quicke resulting_, and a _consequence_?
What is it then that doth the _Sense_ accuse,
Both of _false judgements_, and _fond appetites_?
What makes vs do what _Sense_ doth most refuse?
Which oft in torment of the _Sense_ delights?
_Sense_ thinkes the _planets_, _spheares_ not much asunder;
What tels vs then their distance is so farre?
_Sense_ thinks the lightning borne before the thunder;
What tels vs then they both together are?
When men seem crows far off vpon a towre,
_Sense_ saith, th'are crows; what makes vs think them men?
When we in _agues_, thinke all sweete things sowre,
What makes vs know our tongue's false iudgement then?
What power was that, whereby _Medea_ saw,
And well approu'd, and prais'd the better course,
When her rebellious _Sense_ did so withdraw
Her feeble powers, as she pursu'd the worse?[97]
Did _Sense_ perswade _Vlisses_ not to heare
The mermaid's songs, which so his men did please;
As they were all perswaded, through the eare
To quit the ship, and leape into the _seas_?
Could any power of _Sense_ the _Romane_ moue,
To burn his own right hand with courage stout?[98]
Could _Sense_ make _Marius_ sit vnbound, and proue
The cruell lancing of the knotty gout?[99]
Doubtlesse in _Man_ there is a _nature_ found,
Beside the _Senses_, and aboue them farre;
"Though most men being in sensuall pleasures drownd,
"It seemes their _Soules_ but in their _Senses_ are.
If we had nought but _Sense_, then onely they
Should haue sound minds, which haue their _Senses_ sound;
But _Wisdome_ growes, when _Senses_ doe decay,
And _Folly_ most in quickest _Sense_ is found.
If we had nought but _Sense_, each liuing wight,
Which we call _brute_, would be more sharp then we;
As hauing _Sense's apprehensiue might_,
In a more cleere, and excellent degree.
But they doe want that _quicke discoursing power_,
Which doth in vs the erring _Sense_ correct;
Therefore the _bee_ did sucke the painted flower,
And _birds_, of grapes, the cunning shadow, peckt.[100]
_Sense_ outsides knows; the Soule throgh al things sees;
_Sense_, _circumstance_; she, doth the _substance_ view;
_Sense_ sees the barke, but she, the life of trees;
_Sense_ heares the sounds, but she, the concords true.
But why doe I the _Soule_ and _Sense_ diuide?
When _Sense_ is but a power, which she extends;
Which being in diuers parts diuersifide,
The diuers formes of obiects apprehends?
This power spreds outward, but the root doth grow
In th' inward _Soule_, which onely doth perceiue;
For th' _eyes_ and _eares_ no more their obiects know,
Then glasses know what faces they receiue.
For if we chance to fixe our thoughts elsewhere,
Although our eyes be ope, we cannot see;
And if one power did not both see and heare,
Our sights and sounds would alwayes double be.
Then is the _Soule_ a nature, which containes
The powre of _Sense_, within a greater power
Which doth imploy and vse the _Senses_ paines,
But sits and rules within her priuate bower.
[Footnote 97: Meliora proboq ... iora ... sequor ... Sen'a. H. [Rather
Ovid vii. 20.
... Video meliora, proboque
Deteriora sequor'
Pathetically quoted by BYRON in his remarkable Letter to
JOHN SHEPPARD. G.]]
[Footnote 98: The allusion is to Mutius Scaevola, who was taken in an
attempt to assassinate Porsena, and thrust his hand into the fire to
prove his fortitude: Livy II. 12. G.]
[Footnote 99: The story is told by Plutarch in his Life of Marius c.
VI. 415. G.]
[Footnote 100: Pliny XXXV. 36 § 3: told of a picture of
Zeuxis, as that of the horse neighing is of another by Apelles (_ib_ §
17.) G.]
THAT THE SOULE IS MORE THEN THE TEMPERATURE[101] OF THE HUMORS OF
THE BODY.
_If shee doth then_ the subtill _Sense_ excell,
How gross are they that drown her in the blood!
Or in the bodie's humors tempred well,
As if in them such high perfection stood?
As if most skill in that _Musician_ were,
Which had the best, and best tun'd instrument;
As if the pensill neate[102] and colours cleare,
Had power to make the Painter excellent.
Why doth not beautie then refine the wit?
And good complexion rectifie the will?
Why doth not health bring wisdom still with it?
Why doth not sicknesse make men bruitish still?
Who can in _memory_, or _wit_, or _will_,
Or _ayre_, or _fire_, or _earth_, or _water_ finde?
What alchymist can draw, with all his skil,
The _quintessence_ of these, out of the mind?
If th' _elements_ which haue nor _life_, nor _sense_,
Can breed in vs so great a powre as this;
Why giue they not themselues like excellence,
Or other things wherein their mixture is?
If she were but the Bodie's qualitie
Then would she be with it _sicke_, _maim'd_ and _blind_;
But we perceiue where these priuations be
A _healthy_, _perfect_, and _sharpe-sighted_ mind.
If she the bodie's nature did pertake,
Her strength would with the bodie's strength decay;
But when the bodie's strongest sinewes slake,
Then is the _Soule_ most actiue, quicke and gay.
If she were but the bodie's accident,
And her sole _being_ did in it subsist;
As _white in snow_; she might her selfe absent,
And in the bodie's substance not be mist.
But _it_ on _her_, not _shee_ on _it_ depends;
For _shee_ the body doth sustaine and cherish;
Such secret powers of life to it she lends,
That when they faile, then doth the body perish.
Since then the _Soule works by her selfe alone,
Springs not from Sense, nor humors, well agreeing_;
Her nature is peculiar, and her owne:
She is a _substance_, and a _perfect being_.
[Footnote 101: Misprinted 'temparature.' G.]
[Footnote 102: Clean, pure. G.]
THAT THE SOULE IS A SPIRIT.
But though this substance be the root of _Sense_,
_Sense_ knowes her not, which doth but _bodies_ know;
_Shee is a spirit_, and heauenly influence,
Which from the fountaine of God's Spirit doth flow.
Shee is a Spirit, yet not like _ayre_, or _winde_,
Nor like the _spirits_ about the _heart_ or _braine_;
Nor like those spirits which alchymists do find,
When they in euery thing seeke gold in _vaine_.
For shee all _natures_ vnder heauen doth passe;
Being like those spirits, which God's bright face do see;
Or like _Himselfe_, Whose _image_ once she was,
Though now (alas!) she scarce His _shadow_ bee.
Yet of the _formes_, she holds the first degree,
That are to grosse materiall bodies knit;
Yet shee her selfe is _bodilesse_ and free;
And though confin'd, is almost infinite.
THAT IT CANNOT BE A BODY.
Were she a _body_ how could she remaine
Within this body, which is lesse then she?
Or how could she the world's great shape contain,
And in our narrow brests containèd bee?
All _bodies_ are confin'd within some place,
But _she_ all place within her selfe confines;
All _bodies_ haue their measure, and their space,
But who can draw the _Soule's_ dimensiue lines?
No _body_ can at once two formes admit,
Except the one the other doe deface;
But in the _soule_ ten thousand formes do sit,
And none intrudes into her neighbour's place.
All _bodies_ are with other bodies fild,
But she receiues both heauen and earth together;
Nor are their formes by rash incounter spild,
For there they stand, and neither toucheth either.
Nor can her wide imbracements fillèd bee;
For they that most, and greatest things embrace,
Inlarge thereby their minds' capacitie,
As streames inlarg'd, inlarge the channel's space.[103]
_All things receiu'd, doe such proportion take,
As those things haue, wherein they are receiu'd_:
So little glasses little faces make,
And narrow webs on narrow frames be weau'd;
Then what vast body must we make the _mind_
Wherin are men, beasts, trees, towns, seas, and lands;
And yet each thing a proper place doth find,
And each thing in the true proportion stands?
Doubtlesse this could not bee, but that she turnes
Bodies to spirits, by _sublimation_ strange;
As fire conuerts to fire the things it burnes
As we our meats into our nature change.
From their grosse _matter_ she abstracts the _formes_,
And drawes a kind of _quintessence_ from things;
Which to her proper nature she transformes,
To bear them light on her celestiall wings:
This doth she, when, from things _particular_,
She doth abstract the _universall kinds_;
Which bodilesse and immateriall are,
And can be lodg'd but onely in our minds:
And thus from diuers _accidents_ and _acts_,
Which doe within her obseruation fall,
She goddesses, and powers diuine, abstracts:
As _Nature_, _Fortune_, and the _Vertues_ all.
Againe, how can she seuerall _bodies_ know,
If in her selfe a _bodie's_ forme she beare?
How can a mirror sundry faces show,
If from all shapes and formes it be not cleare?
Nor could we by our eyes all colours learne,
Except our eyes were of all colours voide;
Nor sundry tastes can any tongue discerne,
Which is with grosse and bitter humors cloide.
Nor may a man of _passions_ iudge aright,
Except his minde bee from all passions free;
Nor can a _Iudge_ his office well acquite,
If he possest of either partie bee.
If lastly, this quicke power a body were,
Were it as swift as is[104] the _winde_ or _fire_;
(Whose atomies doe th' one down side-waies beare,
And make the other in _pyramids_ aspire:)
Her nimble body yet in time must moue,
And not in instants through all places slide;
But she is nigh, and farre, beneath, aboue,
In point of time, which thought cannot deuide:
She is sent as soone to _China_ as to _Spaine_,
And thence returnes, as soone as shee is sent;
She measures with one time, and with one paine,
An ell of silke, and heauen's wide spreading tent.
As then the _Soule_ a substance hath alone,
Besides the Body in which she is confin'd;
So hath she not a _body_ of her owne,
But is a _spirit_, and _immateriall minde_.
[Footnote 103:
'Time but the impression stronger makes
As streams their channels deeper wear.'
BURNS: to Mary in Heaven.]
[Footnote 104: Southey misprints 'in.' G.]
THAT THE SOULE IS CREATED IMMEDIATELY BY GOD.
_Since body and soule_ haue such diuersities,
Well might we muse, how first their match began;
But that we learne, that He that spread the skies,
And fixt the Earth, first form'd the _soule_ in man.