For when death's form appears, she feareth not
An utter quenching, or extinguishment;
She would be glad to meet with such a lot,
That so she might all future ill prevent;

But she doth doubt what after may befal;
For nature's law accuseth her within,
And saith, 'tis true what is affirm'd by all,
That after death there is a pain for sin.

Then she who hath been hood-wink'd from her birth,

Doth first herself within death's mirror see;
And when her body doth return to earth,
She first takes care, how she alone shall be.

Who ever sees these irreligious men,

With burden of a sickness weak and faint, But hears them talking of religion then,

And vowing of their souls to ev'ry saint?

When was there ever cursed atheist brought
Unto the gibbet, but he did adore

That blessed Pow'r, which he had set at naught,
Scorn'd and blasphemed all his life before?

These light vain persons still are drunk and mad,
With surfeitings, and pleasures of their youth;
But at their death they are fresh, sober, sad;
Then they discern, and then they speak the truth.

If then all souls, both good and bad, do teach,

With gen'ral voice, that souls can never die; 'Tis not man's flatt'ring gloss, but nature's speech, Which, like God's oracles, can never lie.

Hence springs that universal strong desire,
Which all men have of immortality:

Not some few spirits unto this thought aspire,
But all men's minds in this united be.

Then this desire of nature is not vain,
She covets not impossibilities;

Fond thoughts may fall into some idle brain,
But one assent of all is ever wise:

From hence that gen'ral care and study springs, That launching, and progression of the mind, Which all men have so much of future things, As they no joy do in the present find.

From this desire, that main desire proceeds,
Which all men have surviving fame to gain,
By tombs, by books, by memorable deeds;
For she that this desires, doth still remain.

Hence, lastly, springs care of posterities,

For things their kind would everlasting make: Hence is it, that old men do plant young trees, The fruit whereof another age shall take.

If we these rules unto ourselves apply,
And view them by reflection of the mind,
All these true notes of immortality

In our heart's tables we shall written find.

And tho' some impious wits do questions move, And doubt if souls immortal be, or no;

That doubt their immortality doth prove, Because they seem immortal things to know.

For he who reasons on both parts doth bring, Doth some things mortal, some immortal call; Now, if himself were but a mortal thing,

He could not judge immortal things at all:

For when we judge, our minds we mirrors make;
And as those glasses which material be,
Forms of material things do only take;
For thoughts or minds in them we cannot see;

So when we God and angels do conceive,
And think of truth, which is eternal too;
Then do our minds immortal forms receive,
Which if they mortal were, they could not
do.

And as if beasts conceiv'd what reason were,
And that conception should distinctly show,
They should the name of reasonable bear;

For without reason, none could reason know;

So when the soul mounts with so high a wing,
As of eternal things she doubts can move;
She proofs of her eternity doth bring,

Ev'n when she strives the contrary to prove:

For ev'n the thought of immortality,

Being an act done without the body's aid, Shows, that herself alone could move and be, Although the body in the grave were laid.

WORTH OF THE SOUL.

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?

Look in thy soul, and thou shalt beauties find, Like those which drown'd Narcissus in the flood: Honour and pleasure both are in my mind,

And all that in the world is counted good.

Think of her worth; and think, that God did mean
This worthy mind should worthy things embrace;
Blot not her beauties with thy thoughts unclean,
Nor her dishonour with thy passion base.

Kill not her quick'ning power with surfeitings;
Mar not her sense with sensuality:

Cast not her serious wit on idle things;
Make not her free-will slave to vanity.

And, when thou think'st of her eternity,

Think not that death against our nature is; Think it a birth: and when thou go'st to die, Sing like a swan, as if thou went'st to bliss.

And thou, my soul, which turn'st with curious eye, To view the beams of thine own form divine, Know, that thou canst know nothing perfectly, While thou art clouded with this flesh of mine.

Take heed of over-weening, and compare

Thy peacock's feet with thy gay peacock's train:

Study the best and highest things that are,
But of thyself an humble thought retain.

Cast down thyself, and only strive to raise
The glory of thy Maker's sacred name :
Use all thy pow'rs, that blessed pow'r to praise,
Which gives thee pow'r to be, and use the same.