Then having also a desire to know
Man's true condition, I began to grow
Yet more inquisitive. An old record
At last, I happ❜d upon, which did afford
Much sacred light. It shew'd, He was a creature
First made by God; just and upright by nature.
That in his likeness fram'd, he was compounded
Of soul and body; that this last was founded
Of earth; the first infus'd by inspiration ;
And that the final cause of his creation
Was to set forth the glory of his Maker ;
And with him to be made a joint partaker
Of endless happiness.-Grown much amaz'd
To read this of him, for a time I paus'd,
And finding now in man no mark or sign
That e'er he was a creature so divine,

I knew not what to think, unless the same
Should mean some other creature of that name;"
But prying further on, I there found out
The resolution of my present doubt.

I saw the cause of's fall, how with free will
He fell from his first goodness unto ill.
I saw how he from happiness did slide,
Through disobedience and unthankful pride;
Yea, and I found how by that cursed fall
He was bereaved and quite stripp'd of all
That so adorn'd him. His first holiness
Was chang'd to a corrupted filthiness.
Then he began to draw a painful breath,

And was a slave, made captive unto death;
His body was expos'd to labour, sweat,
And much disquieting; he got his meat

With sorrow, care, and many perturbations,
And then his soul grew subject unto passions
And strange distemperatures. Moreover, he
So perfect miserable grew to be,
That if he had not a regeneration,
Nothing was left him but mere desperation.

This having seen, I made no question than But it was spoken of that creature, MAN; Which I sought after. Searching further yet, On some apocriphal records I hit,

The works of wise philosophers; from whence
I yet received more intelligence

Concerning him: for there they do unfold
Each part about his body, and have told
Secrets of nature very rare to find.
They have considered also of the mind,
The understanding part, and do relate
The nature of his soul, and her estate.
Deep mysteries they be; but seeing, I
Have never searched that philosophydo
So far as those, and sith I shall but telli
Such things as no man can explain so well
As they themselves, I leave you to their books,
In which whoe'er with good advisement looks,
Shall find it largely handled. As for me,
I mean to speak but what I know and see

C

1

جديد

By try'd experience, which perhaps may give
(Although I have but now begun to live)
Some profitable notes. First, I avow, dan b
Whatever man hath been, that he is now
A reasonable living creature, who vote t
Consisteth of a soul and body too :
His body flesh and blood, to sin subjected,
And from his very birth therewith infected,
Grows riper in uncleanness. Then his soul, 2
A pure and lasting substance, is made foul
Through th'other's filthiness, and much supprest
By divers hurtful passions, which molest
And hinder her proceedings; yea, he's this:
A creature that exceeding wretched is.
And that he may be sure no fault to want,
Vain, fickle, weak, and wond'rous arrogant.
And though his nature heretofore was pure,
Now nothing is more fading or unsure.
But I'll omit at this time to relate

The courses I've observed in's outward state;
For though the body, that before the fall...
Sustain❜d no sorrow, were it ne'er so small,
Doth now feel hunger, with heat, thirst and cold,
A feeble birth, defects in being old,

2

With thousands more; and though each gasp of breath

In misery he draws, until his death,

Yet all this outward change which I do find,
Is nothing when I do behold the mind;

For there inordinate and brutish passion
Keeps umpire, and hath got predomination.
Full many a pensive thought doth now molest
His troubled mind, whose conscience slept in rest.
His best contents but discontentments are;
His chief of pleasures are so mix'd with care,
And with so little comfort he obtains them,
Or with such smart and danger he retains them ;
Or with such fear of losing them enjoys them;
That those distastings in the taste destroys them,

So

Amongst his own desires doth hourly rise
many wond'rous contrarieties,

And vain repentings of what's done before,
As all his good makes but his ill the more.
This day he's cheerful, aud to-morrow sad ;
E'en from the same occasion he's made glad.
The mind, which sometime harbour'd so much

good,

That evil but in name was understood,

Knows ill so well, as of that good bereft,

The name of goodness, now, is scarcely left.
And unto me a wonder 'tis become,

The best are bad, yet I observed still bon roles
There are degrees amongst men in their ill.
The basest creatures that here breath on earth
(Inheriting corruption by their birth)

In the condition of their life, are far

Less different from what the worst men are,
Than they are from the best. Perhaps the shapes
(Unless it be some strange disguised apes).
Remain alike; but their poor souls are quite
Exchang❜d to that which we call appetite.

For who can name of reasonable give

To what is made but merely sensitive?

It was a throne where virtue ruling sate,
Jointly with reason, her beloved mate;
And they two, under sweet obedience then,
Kept that fair place, th' unblemish'd Isle of Man:
But since with good we've learn'd to know the ill,
Instead of reason we have set up will.

The mind is nothing but a mint of jars,
Or little world of mad domestic wars;
Virtue's deposed thence, and vice rule obtains,
Yea, vice from vice there by succession reigns;
Expelling those whom virtue's presence graceth,
And in their steads these burtful monsters placeth;
Fond love, and lust, ambition, enmity,
Foolish compassion, joy and jealousy,

Fear, hope, despair and sadness, with the vice:
Call'd hate, revenge, and greedy avarice,
Choler, and cruelty: which I perceiv'd
To be the only causes man's bereav'd
Of quietness and rest. Yea, these I found
To be the principal and only ground
Of all pernicious mischiefs that now rage,