For when God's hand had written in the hearts
    Of the first Parents, all the rules of good,
    So that their skill infusde did passe all arts
    That euer were, before, or since the Flood ;

And when their reason's eye was sharpe and cleere,
    And (as an eagle can behold the sunne)
    Could haue approcht th' Eternall Light as neere,
    As the intellectuall angels could haue done :

Even then to them the Spirit of Lyes suggests
    That they were blind, because they saw not ill ;
    And breathes into their incorrupted brests
    A curious wish, which did corrupt their will.

For that same ill they straight desir'd to know ;
    Which ill, being nought but a defect of good,
    In¹ all God's works the diuell could not show
    While Man their lord in his perfection stood.

So that themselues were first to doe the ill,
    Ere they thereof the knowledge could attaine ;
    Like him that knew not poison's power to kill,
    Vntill (by tasting it) himselfe was slaine.

Euen so by tasting of that fruite forbid,
    Where they sought knowledge, they did error find;
    Ill they desir'd to know, and ill they did ;
    And to giue Passion eyes, made Reason blind.

For then their minds did first in Passion see
    Those wretched shapes of Miserie and Woe,
    Of Nakednesse, of Shame, of Pouertie,
    Which then their own experience made them know.

But then grew Reason darke, that she no more
    Could the faire formes of Good² and Truth discern ;
    Battes they became, that eagles were before :
    And this they got by their desire to learne.

But we their wretched of-spring, what doe we?
    Doe not we still taste of the fruit forbid,
    Whiles with fond³ fruitlesse curiositie
    In bookes prophane we seeke for knowledge hid?

What is this knowledge but the sky-stolne fire,
    For which the thiefe⁴ still chain'd in ice doth sit?
    And which the poore rude Satyre did admire,
    And needs would kisse but burnt his lips with it.⁵

What is it? but the cloud of emptie raine,
    Which when Ioue's guest imbrac't, hee monsters got?⁶
    Or the false payles⁷ which oft being fild with paine,⁸
    Receiv'd the water, but retain'd it not!

Shortly, what is it but the firie coach
    Which the Youth sought, and sought his death withal?⁹
    Or the boye's wings, which when he did approach
    The sunne's hot beames, did melt and let him fall?ⁱ

And yet, alas, when all our lamps are burnd,
    Our bodyes wasted, and our spirits spent :
    When we haue all the learnèd volumes turn'd,
    Which yeeld mens wits both help and ornament :

What can we know? or what can we discerne?
    When Error chokes the windowes of the minde,
    The diuers formes of things, how can we learne,
    That haue been euer from our birth-day blind?ⁱⁱ

When Reasone's lampe, which (like the sunne in skie)
    Throughout Man's little world her beames did spread ;
    Is now become a sparkle, which doth lie
    Vnder the ashes, halfe extinct, and dead :

How can we hope, that through the eye and eare,
    This dying sparkle, in this cloudy place,
    Can recollect these beames of knowledge cleere,
    Which were infus'd in the first minds by grace?

So might the heire whose father hath in play
    Wasted a thousand pound of ancient rent ;
    By painefull earning of aⁱⁱⁱ groat a day
    Hope to restore the patrimony spent.

The wits that diu'd most deepe and soar'd most hie
    Seeking Man's pow'rs, haue found his weaknesse such :
    “ Skill comes so slow, and life so fast doth flie,
    “ We learne so little and forget so much.

For this the wisest of all morall^iv men
    Said, ' He knew nought, but that he nought did know' ;
    And the great mocking-Master mockt not then,
    When he said, 'Truth was buried deepe^v below.'

For how may we to others' things attaine,
    When none of vs his owne soule vnderstands?
    For which the Diuell mockes our curious braine,
    When, 'Know thy selfe' his oracle commands.^vi

For why should wee the busie Soule beleeue,
    When boldly she concludes of that and this ;
    When of her selfe she can no iudgement giue,
    Nor how, nor whence, nor where, nor what she is?

All things without, which round about we see,
    We seeke to knowe, and how therewith to doe ;
    But that whereby we reason, liue and be,
    Within our selues, we strangers are thereto.

We seeke to know the mouing of each spheare,
    And the strange cause of th' ebs and flouds of Nile ;
    But of that clocke within our breasts we beare,
    The subtill motions we forget the while.

We that acquaint our selues with euery^vii Zoane
    And passe both Tropikes and behold the Poles,
    When we come home, are to our selues vnknown,
    And vnacquainted still with our owne Soules.

We study Speech but others we perswade ;
    We leech-craft learne, but others cure with it ;
    We interpret lawes, which other men haue made,
    But reade not those which in our hearts are writ.

Is it^viii because the minde is like the eye,
    Through which it gathers knowledge by degrees—
    Whose rayes reflect not, but spread outwardly :

    Not seeing it selfe when other things it sees?

No, doubtlesse ; for the mind can backward cast
    Vpon her selfe, her vnderstanding light ;
    But she is so corrupt, and so defac't,
    As her owne image doth her selfe affright.

As in the fable of the Lady faire,
    Which for her lust was turnd into a cow ;^ix
    When thirstie to a streame she did repaire,
    And saw her selfe transform'd she wist not how :

At first she startles, then she stands amaz'd,
    At last with terror she from thence doth flye ;
    And loathes the watry glasse wherein she gaz'd,
    And shunnes it still, though she for thirst doe die:

Euen so Man's Soule which did God's image beare,
    And was at first faire, good, and spotless pure;
    Since with her sinnes her beauties blotted were,
    Doth of all sights her owne sight least endure :

For euen at first reflection she espies,
    Such strange chimeraes, and such monsters there ;
    Such toyes, such antikes, and such vanities,
    As she retires, and shrinkes for shame and feare.

And as the man loues least at home to bee,
    That hath a sluttish house haunted with spirits ;^a
    So she, impatient her own faults to see,
    Turns from her selfe and in strange things delites.

For this few know themselues : for merchants broke
    View their estate with discontent and paine ;
    And seas are troubled when they doe reuoke
    Their flowing waues into themselues againe.

And while the face of outward things we find,
    Pleasing and faire, agreeable and sweet ;
    These things transport, and carry out the mind,
    That with her selfe her selfe^b can never meet.

Yet if Affliction once her warres begin,
    And threat the feebler Sense with sword and fire ;
    The Minde contracts her selfe and shrinketh in,
    And to her selfe she gladly doth retire :

As Spiders toucht, seek their webs inmost part ;
    As bees in stormes vnto their hiues returne ;
    As bloud in danger gathers to the heart ;
    As men seek towns, when foes the country burn.

If aught can teach vs aught, Afflictions lookes,
    (Making vs looke^c into our selues so neere,)
    Teach vs to know our selues beyond all bookes,
    Or all the learned Schooles that euer were.

This mistresse lately pluckt me by the eare,
    And many a golden lesson hath me taught ;
    Hath made my Senses quicke, and Reason cleare,
    Reform'd my Will and rectifide my Thought.

So doe the winds and thunders cleanse the ayre ;
    So working lees^d settle and purge the wine ;
    So lop't and prunèd trees doe flourish faire ;
    So doth the fire the drossie gold refine.

Neither Minerua nor the learnèd Muse,
    Nor rules of Art, nor precepts of the wise ;
    Could in my braine those beames of skill infuse,
    As but the glance of this Dame's angry eyes.

She within lists^e my ranging minde hath brought,
    That now beyond my selfe I list^f not goe ;
    My selfe am center of my circling thought,
    Only my selfe I studie, learne, and know.

I know my bodie's of so fraile a kind,
    As force without, feauers within can kill ;
    I know the heauenly nature of my minde,
    But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will :

I know my Soule hath power to know all things,
    Yet is she blinde and ignorant in all ;
    I know I am one of Nature's little kings,
    Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

I know my life's a paine and but a span,
    I know my Sense is mockt with euery thing :
    And to conclude, I know myself a MAN,
    Which is a proud, and yet a wretched thing.




1 misprinted 'and' in Ist edition and in 1608. G.
2 'God' in Ist edition. G.
3 Foolish. G.
4 In Ist edition 'Thief' is misprinted 'shie' and Bp. Hacket writes
here : 'Prometheus stole fire : qui in tulit in terram malum.' G.
5 Fable in Æsop [Babrius]. G.
6 Ixion. G.
7 Danaides. G.
8 Painstaking. G.
9 Phaethon. Hacket.
i Icarus. Hacket.
ii Anima tanquam tabula, Aris[totle]. Hacket.
iii 'One' in 1599 and 1608 editions. G.
iv 'Mortal' in 1599 and 1608 editions. G.
v Misprinted 'here' but corrected in the errata of 1622 edition,
as above, from 1599 and 1608 editions. G.
vi Oraculum Appollinis [f]uit Diabolicum. Hacket.
vii Thomas Davies, as before, misprints 'each' G.
viii Misprinted 'It is' : corrected by H. . . G.
ix Io. G.
a In 1599 and 1608 more accurately 'sprites' G.
b Davies and Southey substitute 'the mind' G.
c Davies and Southey, as before, mis-substitute 'pry.' G.
d An overlooked misprint here is 'seas' : found in all the author's
own editions, and repeated until now, e.g. by Thomas Davies and
Southey, as before. G.
e Bounds : as in Race-courses. G.  [As in jousts. AJ.]
f Thoms Davies, as before, mis-reads 'will' G.