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If the report be good, it causeth love,
And longing hope, and well assured joy:

If it be ill, then doth it hatred move,
And trembling fear, and vexing griefs annoy.

Yet were these natural affections good,
(For they which want them, blocks or devils be)

If reason in her first perfection stood,
That she might Nature’s passions rectify.


Local, Motion.

Besides, another motive-power doth 'rise
Out of the heart, from whose pure blood do spring

The vital spirits; which, born in arteries,
Continual motion to all parts do bring.

This makes the pulses beat, and lungs respire;
This holds the sinews like a bridle's reins;

And makes the body to advance, retire,
To turn, or stop, as she them slacks or strains.

Thus the soul tunes the body's instruments,
These harmonies she makes with life and sense;

The organs fit are by the body lent,
But th’ actions flow from the soul's influence.

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But now I have a will, yet want a wit,
To express the working of the wit and will;

Which, though their root be to the body knit,
Use not the body, when they use their skill.

These pow’rs the nature of the soul declare,
For to man’s soul these only proper be;

For on the Earth no other wights there are
That have these heavenly powers, but only we.



THE wit, the pupil of the soul’s clear eye,
And in man’s world the only shining star,

Looks in the mirror of the fantasy,
Where all the gath’rings of the senses are.

From thence this pow'r the shapes of things ab-
And them within her passive part receives,
Which are enlight'ned by that part which acts;
And so the forms of single things perceives.

But after, by discoursing to and fro,
Anticipating and comparing things,

She doth all universal natures know,
And all effects into their causes brings.

When she rates things, and moves from ground to
The name of reason she obtains by this:
But when by reason she the truth hath found,
And standeth fix’d, she understanding is.

When her assent she lightly doth incline
To either part, she is opinion’s light:

But when she doth by principles define
A certain truth, she hath true judgment’s sight.

And as from senses, reason’s work doth spring,
So many reasons understanding gain;

And many understandings, knowledge bring,
And by much knowledge, wisdom we obtain.

So, many stairs we must ascend upright
Ere we attain to wisdom's high degree:

So doth this earth eclipse our reason’s light,
Which else (in instants) would like angels see.



YET hath the soul a dowry natural,
And sparks of light, some common things to see;

Not being a blank where naught is writ at all,
But what the writer will, may written be.

For Nature in man's heart her laws doth pen,
Prescribing truth to wit, and good to will;

Which do accuse, or else excuse all men,
For ev’ry thought or practice, good or ill:

And yet these sparks grow almost infinite,
Making the world, and all therein, their food;

As fire so spreads, as no place holdeth it,
Being nourish’d still with new supplies of wood.

And though these sparks were almost quench'd
with sin,
Yet they whom that just One hath justify’d,
Have them increas'd with heav'nly light within;
And, like the widow’s oil, still multiply'd,


The powest of will, AND RELATIoN BET wren The wit AND WILL.

AND as this wit should goodness truly know,
We have a will, which that true good should
Though will do oft (when wit false forms doth show)
Take ill for good, and good for ill refuse.

Will puts in practice what the wit deviseth :
Will ever acts, and wit contemplates still:

And as from wit the pow'r of wisdom riseth,
All other virtues daughters are of will.

Will is the prince, and wit the counsellor,
Which doth for common good in council sit;

And when wit is resolv’d, will lends her pow'r
To execute what is advis’d by wit.

Wit is the mind's chief judge, which doth control
Of fancy’s court the judgments false and vain:

Will holds the royal sceptre in the soul,
And on the passions of the heart doth reign.

Will is as free as any emperor,
Nought can restrain her gentle liberty:

No tyrant, nor no torment hath the pow'r
To make us will, when we unwilling be.



To these high pow’rs a store-house doth pertain,
Where they all arts and gen'ral reasons lay;

Which in the soul, e”en after death, remain,
And no Lethean flood can wash away.

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