For how can that be false, which euery tongue
Of euery mortall man affirmes for true?
Which truth hath in all ages been so strong,
As lodestone-like, all hearts it euer drew.
For, not the Christian, or the Iew alone,
The Persian, or the Turke, acknowledge this;
This mysterie to the wild Indian knowne,
And to the Canniball and Tartar is.
This rich Assyrian drugge growes euery where;
As common in the North, as in the East;
This doctrine does not enter by the eare,
But of it selfe is natiue in the breast.
None that acknowledge God, or prouidence,
Their Soule's eternitie did euer doubt;
For all Religion takes her root from hence,
Which no poore naked nation liues without.
For sith the World for Man created was,
(For onely Man the vse thereof doth know)
If man doe perish like a withered grasse,
How doth God's Wisedom order things below?
And if that Wisedom still wise ends propound,
Why made He man, of other creatures King?
When (if he perish here) there is not found
In all the world so poor and vile a thing?
If death do quench vs quite, we haue great wrong,
Sith for our seruice all things else were wrought;
That dawes, and trees, and rocks, should last so long,
When we must in an instant passe to nought.
But blest be that Great Power, that hath vs blest
With longer life then Heauen or Earth can haue;
Which hath infus'd into our mortall breast
Immortall powers, not subiect to the graue.
For though the Soule doe seeme her graue to beare,
And in this world is almost buried quick;
We haue no cause the bodie's death to feare,
For when the shell is broke, out comes a chick.
THREE KINDS OF LIFE ANSWERABLE TO THE THREE POWERS OF THE
SOULE.
For as the soule's essentiall powers are three,
The quickning power, the power of sense and reason;
Three kinds of life to her designèd bee,
Which perfect these three powers in their due season.
The first life, in the mother's wombe is spent,
Where she her nursing power doth onely vse;
Where, when she finds defect of nourishment,
Sh' expels her body, and this world she viewes.
This we call Birth; but if the child could speake,
He Death would call it; and of Nature plaine,
That she would thrust him out naked and weake,
And in his passage pinch him with such paine.
Yet, out he comes, and in this world is plac't,
Where all his Senses in perfection bee;
Where he finds flowers to smell, and fruits to taste;
And sounds to heare, and sundry formes to see.
When he hath past some time vpon this stage,
His Reason then a litle seemes to wake;
Which, thogh she spring, when sense doth fade with age,
Yet can she here no perfect practise make.
Then doth th' aspiring Soule the body leaue,
Which we call Death; but were it knowne to all,
What life our soules do by this death receiue,
Men would it birth or gaole deliuery call.
In this third life, Reason will be so bright,
As that her sparke will like the sun-beames shine;
And shall of God enioy the reall sight.
Being still increast by influence diuine.