Selected quad for the lemma: world_n

Word A	Word B	Word C	Word D	Occurrence	Frequency Band	MI	MI Band	Prominent
world_n	knowledge_n	light_n	shine_v	2,465	5	9.1921	5	false

Text snippets containing the quad

ID	Title	Author	Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication)	STC	Words	Pages
A37239	The original, nature, and immortality of the soul a poem : with an introduction concerning humane knowledge / written by Sir John Davies ... ; with a prefatory account concerning the author and poem.; Nosce teipsum	Davies, John, Sir, 1569-1626.; Tate, Nahum, 1652-1715.	1697 (1697)	Wing D405; ESTC R14959	39,660	143

were insus'd in the first Minds by Grace So might the Heir whose Father hath in Play Wasted a thousand Pounds of ancient Rent By painful earning of one Groat a Day Hope to restore the Patrimony spent The Wits that div'd most deep and soar'd most high Seeking Man's Powers have found his Weakness Skill comes so slow and Life so fast doth fly such We learn so little and forget so much For this the wisest of all Moral Men Said he knew nought but that he nought did know And the great mocking Master mock'd not then When he said Truth was buried here below For how may we to Other Things attain When none of us his own Soul understands For which the Devil mocks our curious Brain When Know thy Self his Oracle commands For why should we the busy Soul believe When boldly she concludes of that and this When of her self she can no Judgment give Nor how nor whence nor where nor what she is All things without which round about we see We seek to know and have therewith to do But that whereby we reason live and be Within our selves we Strangers are thereto We seek to know the moving of each Sphere And the strange Cause o' th' Ebbs and Floods of Nile But of that Clock which in our Breasts we bear The subtile Motions we forget the while We that acquaint our selves with ev'ry Zone And pass the Tropicks and behold each Pole When we come home are to our selves unknown And unacquainted still with our own Soul We study Speech but others we persuade We Leech-craft learn but others cure with it W'interpret Laws which other Men have made But read not those which in our Hearts are writ Is it because the Mind is like the Eye Through which it gathers Knowledge by degrees Whose Rays reflect not but spread outwardly Not seeing it self when other things it sees No doubtless for the Mind can backward cast upon her self her understanding Light But she is so corrupt and so defac'd As her own Image doth her self afright As is the Fable of the Lady fair Which for her Lust was turn'd into a Cow When thirsty to a Stream she did repair And saw her self transform'd she wist not how At first she startles then she stands amaz'd At last with Terrour she from thence doth fly And loaths the wat'ry Glass wherein she gaz'd And shuns it still although for Thirst she die Ev'n so Man's Soul which did God's Image bear And was at first fair good and spotless pure Since with her Sins her Beauties blotted were Doth of all Sights her own Sight least endure For ev'n at first Reflection she espies Such strange Chimera's and such Monsters there Such Toys such Anticks and such Vanities As she retires and shrinks for Shame and Fear And as the Man loves least at Home to be That hath a sluttish House haunted with Sprites lights So she impatient her own Faults to see Turns from her self and in strange things de For this few know themselves For Merchants broke View their Estate with Discontent and Pain And Seas as troubled when they do revoke Their slowing Waves into themselves again And while the Face of outward things we find Pleasing and fair agreeable and sweet These things transport and carry out the Mind That with her self the Mind can never meet Yet if Affliction once her Wars begin And threat the feebler Sense with Sword and Fire The Mind contracts her self and shrinketh in And to her self she gladly doth retire As Spiders touch'd seek their Web's inmost part As Bees in Storms back to their Hives return As Blood in danger gathers to the Heart As Men seek Towns when Foes the Country burn If ought can teach us ought Affliction 's Looks Making us pry into our selves so near Teach us to know our selves beyond all Books Or all the learned Schools that ever were This Mistress lately pluck'd me by the Ear And many a Golden Lesson hath me taught Hath made my Senses quick and Reason clear Reform'd my Will and rectify'd my Thought So do the Winds and Thunders cleanse the Air So working Seas settle and purge the Wine So lopp'd and pruned Trees do flourish fair So doth the Fire the drossy Gold refine Neither Minerva nor the learned Muse Nor Rules of Art nor Precepts of the Wise Could in my Brain those Beams of Skill infuse As but ' the glance of this Dame's angry Eyes She within Lists my ranging Mind hath brought That now beyond my self I will not go My self am Centre of my circling Thought Only my self I study learn and know I know my Body 's of so frail a kind As Force without Fevers within can kill I know the heavenly Nature of my Mind But t is corrupted both in Wit and Will I know my Soul hath power to know all things Yet is she blind and ignorant in All I know I 'm one of Nature's little Kings Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall I know my Life 's a Pain and but a Span I know my Sense is mock'd in ev'ry thing And to conclude I know my self a Man Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing OF THE Original Nature and Immortality OF THE SOUL THE Lights of Heav'n which are the World 's fair Eyes Look down into the World the World to see And as they turn or wander in the Skies Survey all things that on the Centre be And yet the Lights which in my Tower do shine Mine Eyes which view all Objects nigh and far Look not into this little World of mine Nor see my Face wherein they fixed are Since Nature fails us in no needful thing Why want I Means my inward Self to see Which Sight the Knowledge of my self might bring Which to true Wisdom is the first Degree That Pow'r which gave me Eyes the World to view To view my self infus'd an inward Light Whereby my Soul as by a Mirror true Of her own Form may take a perfect Sight But as the sharpest Eye discerneth nought Except the Sun-beams in the Air do shine So the best Soul with her reflecting Thought Sees not her self without some Light Divine O Light which mak'st the Light which makes the Day Which sett'st the Eye without and Mind within Lighten my Spirit with one clear heavenly Ray Which now to view it Self doth first begin For her true Form how can my Spark discern Which dim by Nature Art did never clear When the great Wits from whom all Skill we learn Are ignorant both what she is and where One thinks the Soul is Air another Fire Another Blood diffus'd about the Heart Another saith the Elements conspire And to her Essence Each doth give a part Musicians think our Souls are Harmonies Physicians hold that they Complexion 's be Epicures make them Swarms of Atomies Which do by chance into our Bodies flee Some think one gen'ral Soul fill's ev'ry Brain As the bright Sun sheds Light in ev'ry Star And others think

the Name of Soul is vain And that we only well mix'd Bodies are In Judgment of her Substance thus they vary And vary thus in Judgment of her Seat For some her Chair up to the Brain do carry Some sink it down into the Stomach's Heat Some place it in the Root of Life the Heart Some in the Liver Fountain of the Veins Some say She 's all in all and all in ev'ry part Some say she 's not contain'd but all contains Thus these great Clerks their little Wisdom show While with their Doctrines they at Hazard play Tossing their light Opinions to and fro To mock the Lewd as learn'd in This as They. For no craz'd Brain could ever yet propound Touching the Soul so vain and fond a Thought But some among these Masters have been found Which in their Schools the self-same thing have taught God only wise to punish Pride of Wit Among Men's Wits hath this Confusion wrought As the proud Tow'r whose Points the Clouds did hit By Tongues Confusion was to ruin brought But Thou which didst Man 's Soul of Nothing make And when to Nothing it was fall'n again To make it new the Form of Man didst take And God with God becam'st a Man with Men. Thou that hast fashion'd twice this Soul of ours So that she is by double Title thine Thou only know'st her Nature and her Pow'rs Her subtile Form thou only canst define To judge her self she must her self transcend As greater Circles comprehend the less But she wants Pow'r her own Pow'rs to extend As fetter'd Men cannot their Strength express But thou bright Morning-Star thou Rising Sun Which in these latter Times hast brought to Light Those Mysteries that since the World begun Lay hid in Darkness and Eternal Night Thou like the Sun dost with an equal Ray Into the Palace and the Cottage shine And shew'st the Soul both to the Clerk and Lay By the clear Lamp of th' Oracle divine This Lamp through all the Regions of my Brain Where my Soul sits doth spread such Beams of Grace As now methinks I do distinguish plain Each subtile Line of her Immortal Face The Soul a Substance and a Spirit is Which God himself doth in the Body make Which makes the Man for every Man from this The Nature of a Man and Name doth take And though this Spirit be to th' Body knit As an apt Means her Pow'rs to exercise Which are Life Motion Sense and Will and Wit Yet she survives although the Body dies SECT I. That the Soul is a Thing subsisting by its self and has proper Operations without the Body SHE is a Substance and a real Thing 1. Which hath its self an actual working Might 2. Which neither from the Senses Power doth spring 3. Nor from the Body's Humours temper'd right She is a Vine which doth no propping need To make her spread her self or spring upright She is a Star whose Beams do not proceed From any Sun but from a Native Light For when she sorts Things present with Things past And thereby Things to come doth oft fore-see When she doth doubt at first and chuse at last These Acts her Own without her Body be When of the Dew which th' Eye and Ear do take From Flow'rs abroad and bring into the Brain She doth within both Wax and Honey make This Work is her's this is her proper Pain When she from sundry Acts one Skill doth draw Gath'ring from divers Fights one Art of War From many Cases like one Rule of Law These her Collections not the Senses are When in th' Effects she doth the Causes know And seeing the Stream thinks where the Spring doth rise And seeing the Branch conceives the Root below These things she views without the Body's Eyes When she without a Pegasus doth fly Swifter than Lightning's Fire from East to West About the Centre and above the Sky She travels then although the Body rest When all her Works she formeth first within Proportions them and sees their perfect End E'er she in Act doth any Part begin What Instruments doth then the Body lend When without Hands she doth thus Castles build Sees without Eyes and without Feet doth run When she digests the World yet is not fill'd By her own Pow'rs these Miracles are done When she defines argues divides compounds Considers Virtue Vice and general Things And marrying divers Principles and Grounds Out of their Match a true Conclusion brings These Actions in her Closet all alone Retir'd within her self she doth fulfil Use of her Body's Organs she hath none When she doth use the Pow'rs of Wit and Will Yet in the Body's Prison so she lies As through the Body's Windows she must look Her divers Powers of Sense to exercise By gath'ring Notes out of the World 's great Book Nor can her self discourse or judge of ought But what the Sense collects and home doth bring And yet the Pow'rs of her discoursing Thought From these Collections is a diverse Thing For though our Eyes can nought but Colours see Yet Colours give them not their Pow'r of Sight So though these Fruits of Sense her Objects be Yet she discerns them by her proper Light The Workman on his Stuff his Skill doth show And yet the Stuff gives not the Man his Skill Kings their Affairs do by their Servants know But order them by their own Royal Will So though this cunning Mistress and this Queen Doth as her Instruments the Senses use To know all things that are felt heard or seen Yet she her self doth only judge and chuse Ev'n as a prudent Emperor that reigns By Sovereign Title over sundry Lands Borrows in mean Affairs his Subjects Pains Sees by their Eyes and writeth by their Hands But Things of weight and consequence indeed Himself doth in his Chamber them debate Where all his Counsellors he doth exceed As far in Judgment as he doth in State Or as the Man whom Princes do advance Upon their gracious Mercy-Seat to sit Doth Common Things of Course and Circumstance To the Reports of common Men commit But when the Cause it self must be decreed Himself in Person in his proper Court To grave and solemn Hearing doth proceed Of ev'ry Proof and ev'ry By-Report Then like God's Angel he pronounceth Right And Milk and Honey from his Tongue doth flow Happy are they that still are in his sight To reap the Wisdom which his Lips do sow Right so the Soul which is a Lady free And doth the Justice of her State maintain Because the Senses ready Servants be Attending nigh about her Court the Brain By them the Forms of outward Things she learns For they return into the Fantasie Whatever each of them abroad discerns And there inrol it for the Mind to see But when she sits to judge the Good and Ill And to discern betwixt the False and True She is not guided by the Senses Skill But doth each thing in her own Mirror view Then she the Senses checks which oft do

wide Arms embraced are Yet their best Object and their noblest Use Hereafter in another World will be When God in them shall heav'nly Light infuse That Face to Face they may their Maker see Here are they Guides which do the Body lead Which else would stumble in Eternal Night Here in this World they do much Knowledge read And are the Casements which admit most Light They are her farthest reaching Instrument Yet they no Beams unto their Objects send But all the Rays are from their Objects sent And in the Eyes with pointed Angles end If th' Objects be far off the Rays do meet In a sharp Point and so things seem but small If they be near their Rays do spread and fleet And make broad Points that things seem great withal Lastly Nine things to Sight required are The Pow'r to see the Light the visible thing Being not too small too thin too nigh too far Clear Space and Time the Form distinct to bring Thus see we how the Soul doth use the Eyes As Instruments of her quick Pow'r of Sight Hence doth th' Arts Optick and fair Painting rise Painting which doth all gentle Minds delight SECT XV. Hearing NOW let us hear how she the Ears employs Their Office is the troubled Air to take Which in their Mazes forms a Sound or Noise Whereof her self doth true Distinction make These Wickets of the Soul are plac'd on high Because all Sounds do lightly mount aloft And that they may not pierce too violently They are delay'd with Turns and Windings oft For should the Voice directly strike the Brain It would astonish and confuse it much Therefore these Plaits and Folds the Sound restrain That it the Organ may more gently touch As Streams which with their winding Banks do play Stopp'd by their Creeks run softly through the Plain So in th' Ear 's Labyrinth the Voice doth stray And doth with easy Motion touch the Brain This is the slowest yet the daintiest Sense For ev'n the Ears of such as have no Skill Perceive a Discord and conceive Offence And knowing not what 's good yet find the Ill. And though this Sense first gentle Musick found Her proper Object is the Speech of Men But that Speech chiefly which God's Harolds Sound When their Tongues utter what his Spirit did pen. Our Eyes have Lids our Ears still ope we see Quickly to hear how ev'ry Tale is prov'd Our Eyes still move our Ears unmoved be That though we hear quick we be not quickly mov'd Thus by the Organs of the Eye and Ear The Soul with Knowledge doth her self 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 SECT XVI Taste 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 spread Distinguish ev'ry Relish Sweet and Sow'r 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 SECT XVII Smelling 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 breath 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 smell 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 more apt for Thoughts Divine SECT XVIII Feeling LAstly The Feeling Pow'r which is Life's Root Through ev'ry living Part it self doth shed By Sinews which extend from Head to Foot And like a Net all o'er the Body spread Much like a subtile Spider which doth sit In middle of her Web which spreadeth wide If ought 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 dry By Touch hard soft rough smooth we do discern By Touch sweet Pleasure and sharp Pain we try SECT XIX Of the Imagination or Common Sense THese are the outward Instruments of Sense These are the Guards which ev'ry thing must pass E'er 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 And there this Pow'r those sundry Forms doth know Those outward Organs present things receive This inward Sense doth absent things retain Yet strait transmits all Forms she doth perceive Unto an higher Region of the Brain SECT XX. Fantasy WHere 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 Small Besides those single Forms she doth esteem And in her Ballance doth their Values try Wheresome things good and some things ill do seem And Neutral some in her fantastick Eye This buisy 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 SECT XXI Sensitive Memory YET 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 Lay-man's Tables Store-house 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 SECT XXII The Passion of the Sense BUT though the Apprehensive Pow'r do pause The Motive Vertue 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 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 When they