For ev'n at first reflection she espies Such strange chimeras, and such monsters there; Such toys, such antics, and such vanities, As she retires and shrinks for shame and fear. And as the man loves least at home to be, That hath a sluttish house, haunted with sprites; So she, impatient her own faults to see, Turns from herself, and in strange things delights. For this, few know themselves, for merchants broke, And while the face of outward things we find, Yet if affliction once her wars begin, And threat the feebler sense with sword and fire, The mind contracts herself and shrinketh in, And to herself she gladly doth retire; As spiders touch'd seek their web's inmost part; As bees in storms back to their hives return; As blood in danger gathers to the heart; As men seek towns, when foes the country burn. If aught can teach us aught, affliction's looks, This mistress lately pluck'd me by the ear, And many a golden lesson hath me taught; Hath made my senses quick, and reason clear, Reform'd my will, and rectified my thought. So do the winds and thunders cleanse the air; Neither Minerva, nor the learned muse, She within lists my ranging mind hath brought, I know my body's of so frail a kind, As force without, fevers within can kill; I know the heavenly nature of my mind, But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will. I know my soul hath power to know all things, I know my life's a pain, and but a span; D THE DIGNITY OF MAN. OH! what is man, great Maker of mankind! Oh what a lively life, what heav'nly pow'r, Thou leav'st thy print in other works of thine, 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 be came; 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, THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL, PROVED BY SEVERAL REASONS. HER only end, is never-ending bliss; How senseless then, and dead a soul hath he, For though these light and vicious persons say, "Our soul is but a smoke, or airy blast, Which, during life, doth in her nostrils play, And when we die, doth turn to wind at last;" 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, 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 men's assent their doubt assures. Yet, tho' these men against their conscience strive, But whoso makes a mirror of his mind, Though the other beauties be defaced with sin. First, in man's mind we find an appetite And from the essence of the soul doth spring. With this desire, she hath a native might And by degrees, from cause to cause to climb. But since our life so fast away doth slide, Which in their passage leave no print behind; Of which swift little time so much we spend, While some few things we through the sense do strain, That our short race of life is at an end, Ere we the principles of skill attain; Or God, who to vain ends hath nothing done, God never gave a pow'r to one whole kind, But most part of that kind did use the same: Most eyes have perfect sight, though some be blind; Most legs can nimbly run, though some be lame: |