Edward Farr, ed. Select Poetry of the Reign of Queen Elizabeth. 1845.
The Immortality of the SoulVII. Sir John Davies
H
Which is th’ eternall face of God to see;
Who last of ends, and first of causes is:
And to do this, she must eternall bee.
Which thinks his soule doth with his body dye;
Or thinks not so, but so would haue it bee,
That he might sinne with more securitie!
“Our soule is but a smoke, or aiery blast,
Which during life doth in her nostrils play,
And when we die, doth turne to wind at last:”
Our life is but a sparke which quickly dyes:”
Though thus they say, they know not what to thinke,
But in their minds ten thousand doubts arise.
Their light opinions, like these Epicures;
For so their staggering thoughts are comforted,
And other men’s assent their doubt assures.
There are some sparkles in their flintie breasts,
Which cannot be extinct, but still reuiue;
That, though they would, they cannot quite be beasts.
And doth with patience view himselfe therein,
His soule’s eternity shall cleerly find,
Though th’ other beauties be defac’t with sinne.
To learne and know the truth of euerie thing,
Which is connaturall and borne with it,
And from the Essence of the Soule doth spring.
To find out euerie truth, if she had time;
Th’ innumerable effectes to sort aright,
And by degrees from cause to cause to clime.
As doth a hungry eagle through the wind,
Or as a ship transported with the tide,
Which in their passage leaue no print behind:
While some few things we through the sense do straine,
That our short race of life is at an end,
Ere we the principles of skill attaine:
In vaine this appetite and pow’r hath giuen;
Or else our knowledge, which is here begon,
Hereafter must bee perfected in heauen.
But most part of that kinde did vse the same;
Most eyes haue perfect sight, though some be blind;
Most leggs can nymbly run, though some be lame.
So perfectly, as it hath pow’r to doe:
If then perfection be not found below,
An higher place must make her mount thereto.
When with the motions of both will and wit
She still aspireth to eternitie,
And neuer rests till shee attaine to it?
Than the well-head from whence it first doth spring:
Then since to eternall God she doth aspire,
Shee cannot be but an eternall thing.
Of the same kind, which shewes their nature such:
So earth fals downe, and fire doth mount aboue,
Till both their proper elements do touch.
Suckes from the sea to fill her emptie veines,
From out her wombe at last doth take a birth,
And runnes a nymph along the grassie plaines:
From whose soft side she first did issue make:
Shee tastes all places, turnes to euery hand,
Her flowrie bankes vnwilling to forsake;
As that her course doth make no finall stay,
Till she herselfe vnto the ocean marry,
Within whose watry bosome first she lay:
The Spirit of God doth secretlie infuse,
Because at first she doth the earth behould,
And onely this materiall world she viewes;
And doth embrace the world and worldly things;
Shee flyes close by the ground, and houers here,
And mounts not vp with her celestiall wings:
That with her heauenly nature doth agree;
She cannot rest, she cannot fixe her thought,
She cannot in this world contented bee.
Or pleasure of the sense, contentment find?
Who euer ceasd to wish, when he had health?
Or hauing wisedome, was not vext in mind?
Which seeme sweet floures, with lustre fresh and gay,
She lights on that, and this, and tasteth all,
But pleasd with none, doth rise and sore away:
And, like Noah’s doue, can no sure footing take,
She doth returne from whence she first was sent,
And flyes to him that first her wings did make.
And neuer rests, till it the first attaine:
Will, seeking good, finds many middle ends,
But neuer stayes, till it the last do gaine.
God is the last good end, which lasteth still;
Being Alpha and Omega nam’d for this,
Alpha to wit, Omega to the will.
In that to God she doth directly moue,
And on no mortall thing can make her stay,
Shee cannot be from hence, but from aboue.
She cannot heere so well and truly see:
For this perfection she must yet attend,
Till to her Maker shee espoused bee.
Of diuerse princes, which doe neighbour neare,
On none of them can fixe a constant thought,
Though shee to all doe lend a gentle eare;
Whom of great worth and powre she heares to be,
If she be woo’d but by embassadour,
Or but his letters, or his pictures see;
Into the kingdome where her Spouse doth raigne,
Her eyes shall see what shee conceiu’d in thought,
Himselfe, his state, his glorie, and his traine:
Shee woo’d and tempted is ten thousand wayes
By these great powers, which on the earth beare sway,
The wisdome of the world, wealth, pleasure, praise:
These do by fits her phantasie possesse;
But she distasts them all within a while,
And in the sweetest finds a tediousnesse:
She once doe fixe her humble louing thought,
Who by his picture drawne in euery thing,
And sacred messages, her loue hath sought;
This hony tasted, still is euer sweete;
The pleasure of her rauisht thought is such,
As almost here she with her blisse doth meete.
This is her soueraigne good and perfect blisse;
Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finisht bee,
Her ioyes are full, her motions rest in this:
There doth shee manna eate and nectar drinke;
That presence doth such high delights present,
As neuer tongue could speake, nor hart could thinke.
The bodie’s death, and doe it oft desire;
For when on ground the burthened ballance lyes,
The emptie part is lifted vp the higher.
Then death must needs against her nature bee;
And were it so, all soules would flie it still,
For Nature hates and shunnes her contrarie:
Their being to preserue are chiefly taught;
And though some things desire a chaunge to see,
Yet neuer thing did long to turne to nought.
She could not thus against her nature runne,
Since euery senselesse thing, by Nature’s light,
Doth presentation seeke, destruction shunne.
If death tooke all, that they should all agree
Before this life their honor to preferre;
For what is praise to things that nothing bee?
If on the bodie’s life her life depend,
As Meleager’s on the fatall brand,
The bodie’s good she onely would intend:
To leade it to the warres, and to the seas,
To make it suffer watchings, hunger, cold,
When it might feed with plentie, rest with ease.
Therefore of death we thinke with quiet mind:
But if we thinke of being turn’d to nought,
A trembling horror in our soules we find.
A scorne of death, doth shew she cannot dye;
So when the wicked Soule death’s face doth feare,
Euen then she proues her owne eternity.
An vtter quenching or extinguishment;
She would be glad to meete with such a lot,
That so shee might all future ill preuent.
For Nature’s law accuseth her within,
And saith, Tis true that is affirm’d by all,
That after death there is a paine for sinne.
Doth first herselfe within Death’s mirrour see;
And when her bodie doth returne to earth,
She first takes care how she alone shal be.
With burthen of a sicknessse weake and faint,
But heares them talking of religion then,
And vowing of their soules to euery saint?
Vnto the gibbet, but he did adore
That blessed Power, which he had set at nought,
Scorn’d and blasphemed all his life before?
With surfettings and pleasures of their youth;
But at their deaths they are fresh, sober, sad;
Then they discerne, and then they speake the truth.
With generall voyce, that soules can neuer dye;
’Tis not man’s flatt’ring glose, but Nature’s speach,
Which, like God’s oracle, can neuer lye.
Which all men haue, of Immortalitie:
Not some few spirits vnto this thought aspire,
But all men’s minds in this vnited bee.
She couets not impossibilities:
Fond thoughts may fall into some idle braine,
But one assent of all is euer wise.
That launching and progression of the mind,
Which all men haue so much of future things,
As they no joy doe in the present find.
Which all men haue suruiuing fame to gaine,
By tombes, by bookes, by memorable deedes;
For she that this desires doth still remaine.
For things their kind would euerlasting make:
Hence is it that old men doe plant young trees,
The fruit whereof another age shall take.
And view them by reflection of the mind,
All these true notes of immortalitie
In our hearts’ tables we shall written find.
And doubt if soules immortal be, or no;
That doubt their immortalitie doth proue,
Because they seeme immortal things to know.
Doth some things mortal, some immortal call:
Now, if himselfe were but a mortall thing,
He could not iudge immortall things at all.
And as those glasses which material bee,
Formes of materiall things do onely take;
For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see;
And think of truth, which is eternal too,
Then doe our minds immortal forms receive,
Which, if they mortal were, they could not doo.
And that conception should distinctly shew,
They should the name of reasonable beare;
For without reason none could reason know;
As of eternal things she doubts can moue,
She proofes of her eternity doth bring,
Ev’n when she strives the contrary to prove.
Being an act done without the bodie’s aid,
Shews that herself alone could moue and bee,
Although the body in the graue were laid.