Onely that eye which for true loue doth weepe, Onely that hart which tender loue doth pierse, May read and vnderstand this sacred vierse-- For other wits too misticall and deepe: Betweene these hallowed leaues _Cupid_ dooth keepe The golden lesson of his second Artist; For loue, till now, hath still a Maister mist, Since _Ouids_ eyes were closed with iron sleepe; But now his waking soule in _Chapman_ liues, Which showes so well the passions of his soule; And yet this Muse more cause of wonder giues, And doth more Prophet-like loues art enroule: For Ouids soule, now growne more old and wise, Poures foorth it selfe in deeper misteries. VII. REASON'S MOANE.[177] [Footnote 177: From close of 'A New Post' consisting of 'Essayes' by Sir John Davies. See Prose Works in Fuller Worthies' Library. G.] When I peruse heauen's auncient written storie, part left in bookes, and part in contemplation: I finde Creation tended to God's glory: but when I looke upon the foule euasion, Loe then I cry, I howle, I weepe, I moane, and seeke for truth, but truth alas! is gone. Whilom of old before the earth was founded, or hearbs or trees or plants or beasts, had being, Or that the mightie Canopie of heauen surrounded these lower creatures; ere that the eye had seeing: Then Reason was within the mind of Ioue, embracing only amitie and loue. The blessed angels' formes and admirable natures, their happie states, their liues and high perfections, Immortall essence and vnmeasured statures, the more made known their falls and low directions. These things when Reason doth peruse she finds her errors, which she would excuse. But out alas! she sees strife is all in vaine; it bootes not to contend, or stand in this defence. Death, sorow, grief, hell and torments are her gaine, and endlesse burning fire, becomes our recompence. Oh heauie moane! oh endlesse sorrowes anguish, neuer to cease but euer still to languish. When I peruse the state of prime created man, his wealth, his dignitie and reason: His power, his pleasure, his greatnesse when I scan, I doe admire and wonder, that in so short a season, These noble parts, should haue so short conclusion: and man himselfe, be brought to such confusion. In seeking countries far beyond the seas, I finde, euen where faire Eden's pleasant garden stood: And all the coasts vnto the same confinde, gall to cruell wars; men's hands embru'd in blood, In cutting throats, and murders, men delight: so from these places Reason's banisht quite.