Wit seeking Truth, from Cause to Cause ascends; And never rests, till it the First attain; Will seeking Good, finds many middle Ends, But never stays, till it the Last do gain. Now, GOD, the Truth! and First of Causes is! GOD is the Last Good End! which lasteth still: Being _Alpha_ and _Omega_ named for this, _Alpha_ to Wit! _Omega_ to the Will! Since then, her heavenly kind She doth bewray, In that to GOD, She doth directly move: And on no mortal thing can make her stay; She cannot be from hence, but from _above_. And yet this First True Cause and Last Good End, She cannot hear so _well_, and _truly_ see; For this perfection, She must yet attend, Till to her Maker, She espousèd be. As a King's daughter, being in person sought Of divers Princes, which do neighbour near; On none of them can fix a constant thought, Though she to all do lend a gentle ear. Yet can she love a foreign Emperor! Whom, of great worth and power, she hears to be; If she be wooed but by Ambassador; Or but his letters, or his picture see. For well she knows, that when she shall be brought Into the kingdom, where her Spouse doth reign; Her eyes shall see what she conceived in thought, Himself! his State! his glory! and his train! So while the virgin Soul on earth doth stay She wooed and tempted is, ten thousand ways, By these great Powers, which on the earth bear sway; The WISDOM OF THE WORLD, WEALTH, PLEASURE, PRAISE. With these, sometime, She doth her time beguile. These do, by fits, her Phantasy possess, But She distastes them all, within a while; And in the sweetest, finds a tediousness: But if, upon the world's Almighty King, She once do fix her humble loving thought; Which, by his Picture drawn in everything, And sacred Messages, her love hath sought, Of Him, She thinks She cannot think too much. This honey tasted, still is ever sweet; The pleasure of her ravished thought is such, As almost here, She, with her bliss doth meet. But when in heaven, She shall His Essence see, This is her Sovereign Good! and Perfect Bliss! Her longings, wishings, hopes, all finished be! Her joys are full! her motions rest in this! There, is She crowned with Garlands of Content, There, doth She manna eat, and nectar drink, That Presence doth such high delights present, As never tongue could speak, nor heart could think! [Sidenote: 3 _Reason._ From contempt of death in the better sort of spirits.] For this! the better Souls do oft despise The body's death, and do it oft desire; For when on ground, the burdened balance lies; The empty part is lifted up the higher!