The Lights of Heaven, 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 this 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, mine inward self to see? Which sight, the Knowledge of Myself might bring; Which, to true wisdom, is the first degree. That Power (which gave me eyes, the world to view) To view myself, infused 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 sunbeams in the air do shine; So the best Soul, with her reflecting thought, Sees not herself, without some light Divine. O LIGHT! (which makest the Light, which makest the Day; Which settest the Eye without, and Mind within) Lighten my spirit, with one clear heavenly ray! Which now to view itself, doth first begin. For her true form, how can my Spark discern? Which dim by Nature, Art did never clear; When the great wits, of whom all skill we learn, Are ignorant, both What She is! and Where! One thinks the Soul is Air, another Fire, Another, Blood diffused 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 Complexions be: Epicures make them Swarms of Atomies, Which do, by change, into our bodies flee! Some think one General Soul fills every brain, As the bright sun sheds light in every star; And others think the name of Soul is vain, And that We, only Well-mixed Bodies are. In judgement of her Substance, thus they vary; And thus they vary in judgement of her Seat; For some, her chair up to the Brain do carry, Some thrust 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 is all in all, and all in part!" Some say, "She is not contained, 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 learned in this, as they! For no crazed 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 selfsame thing have taught.