Title to heaven, and plead it by his Faith, 150 And though he may pretend a conquest, since Heaven was content to suffer violence, Yea though hee plead a long possession too, (For they're in heaven on earth who heavens workes do) Though hee had right and power and place, before, 155 Yet Death must usher, and unlocke the doore. [Sidenote: _Incommodities of the Soule in the Body._[3]] Thinke further on thy selfe, my Soule, and thinke How thou at first wast made but in a sinke; Thinke that it argued some infirmitie, That those two soules, which then thou foundst in me, 160 Thou fedst upon, and drewst into thee, both My second soule of sense, and first of growth. Thinke but how poore thou wast, how obnoxious; Whom a small lumpe of flesh could poyson thus. This curded milke, this poore unlittered whelpe 165 My body, could, beyond escape or helpe, Infect thee with Originall sinne, and thou Couldst neither then refuse, nor leave it now. Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit, Which fixt to a pillar, or a grave, doth sit 170 Bedded, and bath'd in all his ordures, dwels So fowly as our Soules in their first-built Cels. Thinke in how poore a prison thou didst lie After, enabled but to suck, and crie. Thinke, when'twas growne to most,'twas a poore Inne, 175 A Province pack'd up in two yards of skinne, And that usurp'd or threatned with the rage Of sicknesses, or their true mother, Age. But thinke that Death hath now enfranchis'd thee, [Sidenote: _Her liberty by death._] Thou hast thy'expansion now, and libertie; 180 Thinke that a rustie Peece, discharg'd, is flowne In peeces, and the bullet is his owne, And freely flies: This to thy Soule allow, Thinke thy shell broke, thinke thy Soule hatch'd but now. And think this slow-pac'd soule, which late did cleave 185 To'a body, and went but by the bodies leave, Twenty, perchance, or thirty mile a day, Dispatches in a minute all the way Twixt heaven, and earth; she stayes not in the ayre, To looke what Meteors there themselves prepare; 190 She carries no desire to know, nor sense, Whether th'ayres middle region be intense; For th'Element of fire, she doth not know, Whether she past by such a place or no; She baits not at the Moone, nor cares to trie 195 Whether in that new world, men live, and die. _Venus_ retards her not, to'enquire, how shee Can, (being one starre) _Hesper_, and _Vesper_ bee; Hee that charm'd _Argus_ eyes, sweet _Mercury_, Workes not on her, who now is growne all eye; 200 Who, if she meet the body of the Sunne, Goes through, not staying till his course be runne; Who findes in _Mars_ his Campe no corps of Guard; Nor is by _Iove_, nor by his father barr'd;