Classic Poem

1

The Mind of Man is this worlds true dimension;
And Knowledge is the measure of the minde:
And as the minde, in her vaste comprehension,
Containes more worlds than all the world can finde:
So Knowledge doth it selfe farre more extend,
Than all the minds of Men can comprehend.

2

A climing Height it is without a head,
Depth without bottome, Way without an end,
A Circle with no line inuironed;
Not comprehended, all it comprehends;
Worth infinite, yet satisfies no minde,
Till it that infinite of the God-head finde.

3

This Knowledge is the same forbidden tree ,
Which man lusts after to be made his Maker;
For Knowledge is of Powers eternity,
And perfect Glory, the true image-taker:
So as what doth the infinite containe,
Must be as infinite as it againe.

4

No maruell then, if proud desires reflexion,
By gazing on this Sunne, doe make vs blinde,
Nor if our Lust, Our Centaure -like Affection,
Instead of Nature, fadome clouds, and winde,
So adding to originall defection,
As no man knowes his owne vnknowing minde:
And our Ægyptian darkenesse growes so grosse,
As we may easily in it, feele our losse.

5

For our defects in Nature who sees not?
Wee enter first things present not conceiving,
Not knowing future, what is past forgot:
All other Creatures instant power receiving,
To helpe themselues; Man onely bringeth sense
To feele, and waile his natiue impotence.

6

Which Sense, Mans first instructor , while it showes
To free him from deceipt, deceiues him most;
And from this false root that mistaking growes,
Which truth in humane knowledges hath lost:
So that by iudging Sense herein perfection,
Man must deny his Natures imperfection.

7

Which to be false, euen Sense it selfe doth proue,
Since euery Beast in it doth vs exceed;
Besides, these senses which we thus approue,
In vs as many diuerse likings breed,
As there be different tempers in Complexions,
Degrees in healths, or Ages imperfections.

8

Againe, Change from without no lesse deceives,
Than doe our owne debilities within:
For th'obiect which in grosse our flesh conceives
After a sort, yet when light doth beginne
These to retaile, and subdiuide, or sleeues
Into more minutes; then growes Sense so thinne,
As none can so refine the sense of man,
That two, or three, agree in any can.

9

Yet these rack'd vp by Wit excessiuely,
Make fancy thinke shee such gradations findes
Of heat, cold, colors such variety,
Of smels, and tasts, of tunes such diuers kindes,
As that braue Scythian never could descry,
Who found more sweetnesse in his horses naying,
Than all the Phrygian, Dorian, Lydian playing.

10

Knowledges next organ is Imagination ;
A glasse, wherein the obiect of our Sense
Ought to reflect true height, or declination,
For vnderstandings cleare intelligence:
But this power also hath her variation,
Fixed in some, in some with difference;
In all, so shadowed with selfe-application
As makes her pictures still too foule, or faire;
Not like the life in lineament, or ayre.

11

This power besides, alwayes cannot receiue
What sense reports, but what th'affections please
To admit; and as those Princes that doe leaue
Their State in trust to men corrupt with ease,
" False in their faith, or but to faction friend,
" The truth of things can scarcely comprehend.

12

So must th'Imagination from the sense
Be misinformed, while our affections cast
False shapes, and formes on their intelligence,
And to keepe out true intromissions thence,
Abstracts the imagination, or distasts,
With images preoccupately plac'd.

13

Hence our desires, feares, hopes, loue, hate, and sorrow,
In fancy make us heare, feele, see impressions,
Such as out of our sense they doe not borrow;
And are the efficient cause, the true progression
Of sleeping visions, idle phantasmes waking,
Life, dreames; and knowledge, apparitions making.

14

Againe, our Memory, Register of Sense ,
And mould of Arts , as Mother of Induction,
Corrupted with disguis'd intelligence,
Can yeeld no Images for mans instruction:
But as from stained wombes, abortiue birth
Of strange opinions, to confound the earth.

15

The last chiefe oracle of what man knowes
Is Vnderstanding ; which though it containe
Some ruinous notions, which our Nature showes,
Of generall truths, yet haue they such a staine
From our corruption, as all light they lose;
Saue to conuince of ignorance, and sinne,
Which where they raigne let no perfection in.

16

Hence weake, and few those dazled notions be,
Which our fraile Vnderstanding doth retaine;
So as mans bankrupt Nature is not free,
By any Arts to raise it selfe againe;
Or to those notions which doe in vs liue
Confus'd, a well-fram'd Art-like state to giue.

17

Nor in a right line can her eyes ascend,
To view the things that immateriall are;
For as the Sunne doth, while his beames descend,
Lighten the earth, but shaddow euery starre:
So Reason stooping to attend the Sense,
Darkens the spirits cleare intelligence.

18

Besides; these faculties of apprehension;
Admit they were, as in the soules creation,
All perfect here, (which blessed large dimension
As none denies, so but by imagination
Onely, none knowes) yet in that comprehension,
Euen through those instruments wherby she works,
Debility, misprision, imperfection lurkes;

19

As many, as there be within the braine
Distempers, frenzies, or indispositions;
Yea of our falne estate the fatall staine
Is such, as in our Youth while compositions,
And spirits are strong, conception then is weake,
And faculties in yeeres of vnderstanding breake.

20

Againe, we see the best Complexions vaine,
And in the worst more nimble subtilty;
From whence Wit, a distemper of the braine ,
The Schooles conclude, and our capacity;
How much more sharpe, the more it apprehends,
Still to distract, and lesse truth comprehends.

21

But all these naturall Defects perchance
May be supplyed by Sciences, and Arts;
Which wee thirst after, study, admire, aduance,
As if restore our fall, recure our smarts
They could, bring in perfection, burne our rods;
With Demades to make us like our Gods.

22

Indeed to teach they confident pretend,
All generall, vniforme Axioms scientificall
Of truth, that want beginning, haue no end,
Demonstratiue, infallible, onely essentiall:
But if these Arts containe this mystery,
It proues them proper to the Deity :

23

Who onely is eternall, infinite, all-seeing,
Euen to the abstract essences of Creatures;
Which pure transcendent Power can haue no being
Within mans finite, fraile, imperfect features:
For proofe, What grounds so generall, and known,
But are with many exceptions ouerthrowne?

24

So that where our Philosophers confesse,
That we a knowledge vniuersall haue,
Our ignorance in particulars we expresse:
Of perfect demonstration , who yet gaue
One cleare example? Or since time began,
What one true forme found out by wit of Man?

25

Who those characteristicall Ideas
Conceiues, which Science of the Godhead be?
But in their stead we raise, and mould Tropheas,
Formes of Opinion, Wit, and Vanity,
Which we call Arts ; and fall in loue with these,
As did Pygmalion with his carved tree;
For which men, all the life they here enjoy,
Still fight, as for the Helens of their Troy .

26

Hence doe we out of words create us Arts :
Of which the People not withstanding be
Masters, and without rules doe them impart:
Reason we make an Art; yet none agree
What this true Reason is; nor yet haue powers,
To leuell others Reason vnto ours.

27

Nature we draw to Art, which then forsakes
To be herselfe, when she with Art combines;
Who in the secrets of her owne wombe makes
The Load-stone, Sea, the Soules of men, and windes;
Strong instances to put all Arts to schoole,
And proue the Science-monger but a foole.

28

Nay we doe bring the influence of Starres,
Yea God himselfe euen vnder moulds of Arts;
Yet all our Arts cannot preuaile so farre,
As to confirme our eyes, resolue our hearts,
Whether the heauens doe stand still or moue,
Were fram'd by Chance, Antipathie, or Loue?

29

Then what is our high-prais'd Philosophie ,
But bookes of Poesie, in Prose compil'd?
Farre more delightfull than they fruitfull be,
Witty apparance, Guile that is beguil'd;
Corrupting minds much rather than directing,
The allay of Duty, and our Prides erecting.

30

For as among Physitians , what they call
Word-Magike , neuer helpeth the disease,
Which drugges, and dyet ought to deale withall,
And by their reall working giue vs ease:
So these Word-sellers haue no power to cure
The Passions, which corrupted liues endure.

31

Yet not asham'd these Verbalists still are,
From youth, till age, or study dimme their eyes,
To engage the Grammar rules in ciuill warre,
For some small sentence which they patronize;
As if our end liu'd not in reformation,
But Verbes, or Nounes true sense, or declination.

32

Musike instructs me which be lyrike Moodes;
Let her instruct me rather, how to show
No weeping voyce for losse of Fortunes goods.
Geometrie giues measure to the earth below;
Rather let her instruct me, how to measure
What is enough for need, what fit for pleasure.

33

Shee teacheth, how to lose nought in my bounds,
And I would learne with ioy to lose them all:
This Artist showes which way to measure Rounds,
But I would know how first Mans minde did fall,
How great it was, how little now it is,
And what that knowledge was which wrought vs this!

34

What thing a right line is, the learned know;
But how auailes that him, who in the right
Of life, and manners doth desire to grow?
What then are all these humane Arts, and lights,
But Seas of errors? In whose depths who sound,
Of truth finde onely shadowes, and no ground.

35

Then if our Arts want power to make vs better,
What foole will thinke they can vs wiser make,
Life is the Wisdome, Art is but the letter ,
Or shell , which oft men for the kernell take;
In Moodes, and Figures moulding vp deceit,
To make each Science rather hard, than great.

36

And as in Grounds, which salt by nature yeeld,
No care can make returne of other graine:
So who with Bookes their nature ouer-build,
Lose that in practise, which in Arts they gaine;
That of our Schooles it may be truely said,
Which former times to Athens did vpbraid:

37

" That many came first Wise men to those Schooles;
" Then grew Philosophers, or Wisdome-mongers;
" Next Rhetoricians, and at last grew fooles.
Nay it great honour were to this Booke-hunger,
If our schools dreams could make their scholars see
What imperfections in our Natures be.

38

But these vaine Idois of humanity,
As they infect our wits, so doe they staine,
Or binde our inclinations borne more free,
While the nice Alchymie of this proud veine
Makes some grow blinde, by gazing on the skie,
Others, like whelpes, in wrangling Elenchs die.

39

And in the best, where Science multiplies ,
Man multiplies with it his care of minde:
While in the worst, these swelling harmonies,
Like bellowes, fill vnquiet hearts with winde,
To blow the flame of malice, question, strife,
Both into publike States and priuate life.

40

Nor is it in the Schooles alone where Arts
Transform themselues to Craft, Knowledge to Sophistry,
Truth into Rhetorike; since this wombe imparts,
Through all the practice of Humanity,
Corrupt, sophisticall, chymicall allayes,
Which snare the subiect and the King betrayes.