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Thus by the organs of the eye and ear,
The soul with knowledge doth herself endue :

“Thus she her prison may with pleasure bear,
Having such prospects, all the world to view.”

These conduit-pipes of knowledge feed the mind,
But th' other three attend the body still;

For by their services the soul doth find,
What things are to the body good or ill.

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The body’s life with meats and air is fed,
Therefore the soul doth use the tasting pow'r
In veins, which through the tongue and palate
Distinguish ev’ry relish, sweet and sour.

This is the body's nurse; but since man's wit
Found th’ art of cook’ry to delight his sense,

More bodies are consum’d and kill'd with it,
Than with the sword, famine, or pestilence.



NExt, in the nostrils she doth use the smell:
As God the breath of life in them did give;

So makes he now this pow'r in them to dwell,
To judge all airs, whereby we breathe and live.

This sense is also mistress of an art,
Which to soft people sweet perfumes doth sell;
Though this dear art doth little good impart,
“Since they smell best, that do of nothing
And yet good scents do purify the brain,
Awake the fancy, and the wits refine :
Hence old Devotion incense did ordain,
To make men's spirits apt for thoughts divine.



LAstly, the feeling pow'r, which is life’s root,
Through ev'ry living part itself doth shed

By sinews, which extend from head to foot;
And, like a net, all o'er the body spread.

Much like a subtle spider,” which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide;

* The spider's touch how exquisitely fine,
Feels at each thread, and lives along the line.
Pope’s Essay on Man.
Vol. IV.

If aught do touch the utmost thread of it,
She feels it instantly on ev'ry side.

By touch, the first pure qualities we learn,
Which quicken all things, hot, cold, moist, and
By touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we do discern:
By touch, sweet pleasure and sharp pain we try.

of the IMAGINATION, on common sex se.

THESE are the outward instruments of sense;
These are the guards which ev’ry thing must
Ere it approach the mind’s intelligence,
Or touch the fantasy, wit’s looking-glass.

And yet these porters, which all things admit, Themselves perceive not, nor discern the things:

One common pow'r doth in the forehead sit, Which all their proper forms together brings.

For all those nerves, which spirits of sense do bear, And to those outward organs spreading go,

United are, as in a centre, there; [know, And there this pow'r those sundry forms doth

Those outward organs present things receive,
This inward sense doth absent things retain;

Yet straight transmits all forms she doth perceive,
Unto an highcr region of the brain,



Whene fantasy, near hand-maid to the mind,
Sits, and beholds, and doth discern them all;
Compounds in one, things diff'rent in their kind;
Compares the black and white, the great and

Besides, those single forms she doth esteem,
And in her balance doth their values try;

Where some things good, and some things ill do
And neutral some, in her fantastic eye. [seem,

This busy pow'r is working day and night;
For when the outward senses rest do take,

A thousand dreams, fantastical and light,
With flutt’ring wings do keep her still awake,


sr. Nsitive Memony.

Yrt always all may not afore her be;
Successively she this and that intends;

Therefore such forms as she doth cease to see,
To memory's large volume she commends.

This ledger-book lies in the brain behind,
Like Janus' eye, which in his poll was set:

The layman's tables, storehouse of the mind;
Which doth remember much, and much forget

Here sense's apprehension end doth take;
As when a stone is into water cast,

One circle doth another circle make,
Till the last circle touch the bank at last.

the passion of the sense.

But though the apprehensive pow'r do pause,
The motive virtue then begins to move;

Which in the heart below doth passions cause,
Joy, grief, and fear, and hope, and hate, and love.

These passions have a free commanding might,
And divers actions in our life do breed;

For all acts done without true reason's light,
Do from the passion of the sense proceed.

But since the brain doth lodge the pow'rs of sense,
How makes it in the heart those passions spring 2

The mutual love, the kind intelligence
*Twixt heart and brain, this sympathy doth bring.

From the kind heat, which in the heart doth reign, The spirits of life do their beginning take;

These spirits of life ascending to the brain, [make. When they come there, the spirits of sense do

These spirits of sense, in fantasy's high court,
Judge of the forms of objects, ill or well;

And so they send a good or ill report
Down to the heart, where all affections dwell.

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