But as Noah's pigeon, which return'd no more,

Did show, she footing found, for all the flood; So when good souls, departed through Death's door,

Come not again, it shows their dwelling good.

And doubtless, such a soul as up doth mount,
And doth appear before her Maker's face,
Holds this vile world in such a base account,

As she looks down and scorns this wretched place.

But such as are detruded down to Hell,

Either for shame, they still themselves retire; Or ty'd in chains, they in close prison dwell, And cannot come, although they much desire.

OBJECTION V.

Well, well, say these vain spirits, though vain it is To think our souls to Heav'n or Hell do go; Politic men have thought it not amiss,

To spread this lie, to make men virtuous so.

ANSWER.

Do you then think this moral virtue good?
I think you do, ev'n for your private gain;
For commonwealths by virtue ever stood,
And common good the private doth contain.

If then this virtue you do love so well,

Have you no means, her practice to maintain; But you this lie must to the people tell,

That good souls live in joy, and ill in pain?

Must virtue be preserved by a lie?

Virtue and truth do ever best agree; By this it seems to be a verity,

Since the effects so good and virtuous be.

For, as the Devil the father is of lies,

So vice and mischief do his lies ensue : Then this good doctrine did not he devise; But made this lie, which saith, it is not true.

For, how can that be false, which ev'ry tongue Of ev'ry mortal man affirms for true? Which truth hath in all ages been so strong, As, load-stone like, all hearts it ever drew.

For, not the Christian, or the Jew alone,
The Persian, or the Turk, acknowledge this;
This mystery to the wild Indian known,

And to the cannibal and Tartar is.

This rich Assyrian drug grows ev'ry where;
As common in the north as in the east:
This doctrine doth not enter by the ear,
But of itself is native in the breast.

None that acknowledge God, or providence,
Their soul's eternity did ever doubt;
For all religion taketh root from hence,
Which no poor naked nation lives without.

For since the world for man created was,
(For only man the use thereof doth know)
If man do perish like a wither'd grass,

How doth God's wisdom order things below?

And if that wisdom 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 us quite, we have great wrong, Since for our service all things else were wrought; That daws, and trees, and rocks should last so long, When we must in an instant pass to naught.

But bless'd be that Great Pow'r, that hath us bless'd
With longer life than Heav'n or Earth can have;
Which hath infus'd into our mortal breast
Immortal pow'rs not subject to the grave.

For though the soul do seem her grave to bear,
And in this world is almost bury'd quick,
We have no cause the body's death to fear;
For when the shell is broke, out comes a chick.

SECTION XXXIII.

THREE KINDS OF LIFE ANSWERABLE TO THREE POWERS OF THE SOUL.

For as the soul's essential pow'rs are three ;
The quick'ning pow'r, the pow'r of sense and reason;
Three kinds of life to her designed be, [son.
Which perfect these three pow'rs in their due sea-

The first life in the mother's womb is spent, Where she the nursing pow'r doth only use; Where, when she finds defect of nourishment,

Sh' expels her body, and this world she views.

This we call birth; but if the child could speak,
He death would call it; and of nature plain,
That she would thrust him out naked and weak,
And in his passage pinch him with such pain.

Yet out he comes, and in this world is plac'd,
Where all his senses in perfection be;
Where he finds flow'rs to smell, and fruits to taste,
And sounds to hear, and sundry forms to see.

When he hath pass'd some time upon the stage, His reason then a little seems to wake; [age, Which though she spring when sense doth fade with Yet can she here no perfect practice make.

Then doth aspiring soul the body leave,

Which we call death; but were it known to all, What life our souls do by this death receive, Men would it birth or jail-deliv'ry call.

In this third life, reason will be so bright,
As that her spark will like the sun-beams shine,
And shall of God enjoy the real sight,
Being still increas'd by influence divine.

SECTION XXXIV. THE CONCLUSION.

O IGNORANT poor man! what dost thou bear?Lock'd up within the casket of thy breast? What jewels, and what riches hast thou there"? What heav'nly treasure in so weak a chest?

OF ASTREA.

EARLY before the day doth spring; Let us awake my Muse and sing, It is no time to slumber,

So many joys this time doth bring, As time will fail to number.

But whereunto shall we bend our lays?
E 'en up to Heaven, again to raise
The maid which thence descended;
Hath brought again the golden days,
And all the world amended.

Rudeness itself she doth refine,
E 'en like an alchymist divine,
Gross times of iron turning
Into the purest form of gold;

Not to corrupt, till Heaven wax old,
And be refin'd with burning.

HYMN IV.

TO THE MONTH OF MAY.

E ACH day of thine, sweet month of May, Love makes a solemn holy-day.

I will perform like duty,

Sith thou resemblest every way
A strea, queen of beauty.

Both your fresh beauties do partake,
E ither's aspect doth summer make,
Thoughts of young love awaking;
Hearts you both do cause to ache,
And yet be pleas'd with aching.

Right dear art thou, and so is she,
E'en like attracting sympathy,
Gains unto both like dearness;
I ween this made antiquity,
Name thee, sweet May of majesty,
A s being both like in clearness

HYMN V.

TO THE LARK.

EARLY cheerful mounting lark,
Light's gentle usher, morning's clark,
In merry notes delighting :
Stint awhile thy song, and hark,
And learn my new inditing.

Bear up this hymn, to Heav'n it bear,
E'en up to Heav'n, and sing it there,
To Heav'n each morning bear it;
Have it set to some sweet sphere,
And let the angels hear it.

Renown'd Astrea, that great name,
Exceeding great in worth and fame,
Great worth bath so renown'd it,
It is Astrea's name I praise,

Now then, sweet lark, do thou it raise,
And in high Heaven resound it.

HYMN VIII.

TO ALL THE PRINCES OF EUROPE.

EUROPE, the Earth's sweet paradise:
Let all thy kings that would be wise,
In politic devotion,

S ail hither to observe her eyes,
A nd mark her heav'nly motion.

B rave princess of this civil age,
Enter into this pilgrimage:
This saint's tongue's an oracle,
Her eye hath made a prince a page,
A nd works each day a miracle.

Raise but your looks to her, and see
E 'en the true beams of majesty,
Great princes, mark her duly;
If all the world you do survey,
No forehead spreads so bright a ray,
A nd notes a prince so truly.

HYMNAL

TO THE SUN.

E YE of the world, fountain of light,
Life of day, and death of night,
I humbly seek thy kindness:
Sweet, dazzle not my feeble sight,
A nd strike me not with blindness.

B ehold me mildly from that face,

E 'en where thou now dost run thy race, The sphere where now thou turnest; Having like Phaeton chang'd thy place, And yet hearts only burnest.

R ed in her right cheek thou dost rise,
E xalted after in her eyes,
Great glory there thou showest:

In th' other cheek when thou descendest,
New redness unto it thou lendest,
And so thy round thou goest.

HYMN XIV.

OF THE SUN-BEAMS OF HER MIND.

E XCEEDING glorious is this star,
Let us behold her beams afar
In a side line reflected;

Sight bears them, not, when near they are,
A nd in right lines directed.

Behold her in her virtue's beams,
Extending sun-like to all realms ;
The Sun none views too nearly:
H er well of goodness in these streams,
A ppears right well and clearly.
Radiant virtues, if your light
E nfeeble the best judgment's sight,
Great splendour above measure

Is in the mind, from whence you flow :
No wit may have access to know,
A nd view so bright a treasure.