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| THE LIGHTS of Heauen (which are the world’s fair eyes) | |
| Looke downe into the world, the world to see; | |
| And as they turne or wander in the skies, | |
| Surueigh all things that on this center bee. | |
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| And yet the lights which in my towre do shine, | 5 |
| Mine eyes, which view all obiects, nigh and farre, | |
| Looke not into this little world of mine, | |
| Nor see my face, wherein they fixed are. | |
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| Since Nature failes vs in no needfull thing, | |
| Why want I meanes mine inward selfe to see? | 10 |
| Which sight the knowledge of myselfe might bring, | |
| Which to true wisdome is the first degree. | |
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| That powre, which gaue me eyes the world to view, | |
| To view myselfe enfusd an inward light, | |
| Whereby my soule, as by a mirror true, | 15 |
| Of her own forme may take a perfect sight. | |
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| But as the sharpest eye discerneth nought, | |
| Except the sun-beames in the aire doe shine; | |
| So the best sense with her reflecting thought | |
| Seekes not herselfe without some light diuine. | 20 |
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| 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 itselfe doth first begin. | |
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| For her true forme how can my sparke discerne, | 25 |
| Which, dimme by nature, art did neuer cleare, | |
| When the great wits, of whom all skill we learne, | |
| Are ignorant both what shee is, and where? | |
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| One thinks the soule is aire; another, fire; | |
| Another, blood defus’d about the hart; | 30 |
| Another saith the elements conspire, | |
| And to her essence each doth giue a part. | |
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| Musicians thinke our souls are harmonies; | |
| Physicians hold that they complexions bee; | |
| Epicures make them swarmes of atomies, | 35 |
| Which do by chaunce into our bodies flee. | |
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| 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. | 40 |
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| In iudgment of her substance thus they varie; | |
| And thus they varie in iudgment of her seate: | |
| For some her chaire vp to the braine do carrie, | |
| Some thrust it downe into the stomake’s heate. | |
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| Some place it in the roote of life, the hart; | 45 |
| Some in the liuer, fountaine of the vaines; | |
| Some say she is all in all, and all in part: | |
| Some say she is not containd, but all containes. | |
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| Thus these great clerks their little wisedome shew, | |
| While with their doctrines they at hazard play; | 50 |
| Tossing their light opinions to and fro, | |
| To mocke the lewd, as learnd in this as they. | |
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| For no craz’d braine could euer yet propound | |
| Touching the soule so vaine and fond a thought; | |
| But some among these maisters haue been found, | 55 |
| Which in their schooles the self-same thing haue taught. | |
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| 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. | 60 |
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| 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; | |
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| Thou, that hast fashioned twise this soule of ours, | 65 |
| So that she is by double title thine, | |
| Thou onely knowest her nature and her powers; | |
| Her subtile forme thou onely canst define. | |
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| To iudge herselfe she must herselfe transcend; | |
| As greater circles comprehend the lesse: | 70 |
| But she wants power her owne power to extend; | |
| As fettred men cannot their strength expresse. | |
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| But thou, bright morning Starre, thou rising Sunne, | |
| Which in these later times hast brought to light | |
| Those mysteries, that, since the world begun, | 75 |
| Lay hid in darknesse and eternall night; | |
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| Thou, like the sunne, dost with indifferent ray | |
| Into the pallace and the cottage shine, | |
| And shew’st the soule both to the clarke and lay | |
| By the cleere lampe of thy oracle diuine. | 80 |
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| This lampe through all the regions of my braine, | |
| Where my soule sits, doth spread such beames of grace, | |
| As now, methinks, I do distinguish plain | |
| Each subtill line of her immortall face. | |
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| The soule a substance and a spirit is, | 85 |
| Which God himselfe doth in the bodie make, | |
| Which makes the man: for euery man from this | |
| The nature of a man and name doth take. | |
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| And though this spirit be to the bodie knit, | |
| As an apt meane her powers to exercise, | 90 |
| Which are life, motion, sense, and will, and wit, | |
| Yet she suruiues, although the bodie dies. | |
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