No More Learning

None writes so ill, that he
gives not some thing exemplary, to follow, or flie. Now when I beginne
this booke, I have no purpose to come into any mans debt[1]; how my
stocke will hold out I know not; perchance waste, perchance increase
in use; if I doe borrow any thing of Antiquitie, besides that I make
account that I pay it to posterity, with as much and as good: You
shall still finde mee to acknowledge it, and to thanke not him onely
that hath digg'd out treasure for mee, but that hath lighted mee a
candle to the place. All which I will bid you remember, (for I will
have no such Readers as I can teach) is, that the Pithagorian doctrine
doth not onely carry one soule from man to man, nor man to beast, but
indifferently to plants also: and therefore you must not grudge to
finde the same soule in an Emperour, in a Post-horse, and in a
Mucheron,[2] since no unreadinesse in the soule, but an indisposition
in the organs workes this. And therefore though this soule could not
move when it was a Melon, yet it may remember, and now tell mee,[3] at
what lascivious banquet it was serv'd. And though it could not speake,
when it was a spider, yet it can remember and now tell me, who used it
for poyson to attaine dignitie. How ever the bodies have dull'd her
other faculties, her memory hath ever been her owne,
which makes me so seriously deliver you by her
relation all her passages from her first making
when shee was that apple[4] which Eve
eate,[5] to this time when shee is
hee,[6] whose life you shall
finde in the end of
this booke.


[Infinitati _&c. _ _1633-69:_ (_in 1633 it is the first poem;
in 1633-69 it follows the_ Funerall Elegies, _from which it
is separated by some prose letters, and precedes_ Divine Poems
_as here_), _A18_, _G_, _N_, _TCC_, _TCD_

Metempsychosis. _1650-69:_ Metempsycosis. _1633-39_]


[Footnote 1: debt; _Ed:_ debt, _1633-69_]

[Footnote 2: Mucheron, _1633_, _N_, _TC:_ Mushrome, _G:_
Maceron, _1635-69_, _O'F_]

[Footnote 3: and can now tell mee, _1635-69_]

[Footnote 4: apple] aple _1633_]

[Footnote 5: eate, _1633-69:_ ate, _O'F:_ eat, _mod. editors_]

[Footnote 6: shee is hee, _1633_, _A18_, _G_, _N_, _TC:_ shee
is shee, _1635-69_]




THE PROGRESSE OF THE SOULE.


_First Song. _


I.

I sing the progresse of a deathlesse soule,
Whom Fate, which God made, but doth not controule,
Plac'd in most shapes; all times before the law
Yoak'd us, and when, and since, in this I sing.
And the great world to his aged evening; 5
From infant morne, through manly noone I draw.
What the gold Chaldee, or silver Persian saw,
Greeke brasse, or Roman iron, is in this one;
A worke t'outweare _Seths_ pillars, bricke and stone,
And (holy writt excepted) made to yeeld to none. 10


II.

Thee, eye of heaven, this great Soule envies not,
By thy male force, is all wee have, begot.
In the first East, thou now beginst to shine,
Suck'st early balme, and Iland spices there,
And wilt anon in thy loose-rein'd careere 15
At Tagus, Po, Sene, Thames, and Danow dine,
And see at night thy Westerne land of Myne,
Yet hast thou not more nations seene then shee,
That before thee, one day beganne to bee,
And thy fraile light being quench'd, shall long,
long out live thee. 20


III.

Nor, holy _Ianus_, in whose soveraigne boate
The Church, and all the Monarchies did floate;
That swimming Colledge, and free Hospitall
Of all mankinde, that cage and vivarie
Of fowles, and beasts, in whose wombe, Destinie 25
Us, and our latest nephewes did install
(From thence are all deriv'd, that fill this All,)
Did'st thou in that great stewardship embarke
So diverse shapes into that floating parke,
As have beene moved, and inform'd by this heavenly sparke. 30


IV.

Great Destiny the Commissary of God,
That hast mark'd out a path and period
For every thing; who, where wee of-spring tooke,
Our wayes and ends seest at one instant; Thou
Knot of all causes, thou whose changelesse brow 35
Ne'r smiles nor frownes, O vouch thou safe to looke
And shew my story, in thy eternall booke:
That (if my prayer be fit) I may'understand
So much my selfe, as to know with what hand,
How scant, or liberall this my lifes race is spand. 40


V.

To my sixe lustres almost now outwore,
Except thy booke owe mee so many more,
Except my legend be free from the letts
Of steepe ambition, sleepie povertie,
Spirit-quenching sicknesse, dull captivitie, 45
Distracting businesse, and from beauties nets,
And all that calls from this, and to others whets,
O let me not launch out, but let mee save
Th'expense of braine and spirit; that my grave
His right and due, a whole unwasted man may have. 50


VI.

But if my dayes be long, and good enough,
In vaine this sea shall enlarge, or enrough
It selfe; for I will through the wave, and fome,
And shall, in sad lone wayes a lively spright,
Make my darke heavy Poem light, and light. 55
For though through many streights, and lands I roame,
I launch at paradise, and I saile towards home;
The course I there began, shall here be staid,
Sailes hoised there, stroke here, and anchors laid
In Thames, which were at Tigrys, and Euphrates waide. 60


VII.

For the great soule which here amongst us now
Doth dwell, and moves that hand, and tongue, and brow,
Which, as the Moone the sea, moves us; to heare
Whose story, with long patience you will long;
(For 'tis the crowne, and last straine of my song) 65
This soule to whom _Luther_, and _Mahomet_ were
Prisons of flesh; this soule which oft did teare,
And mend the wracks of th'Empire, and late Rome,
And liv'd when every great change did come,
Had first in paradise, a low, but fatall roome. 70


VIII.