So that themselues were first to doe the ill,
Ere they thereof the knowledge could attaine;
Like him that knew not poison's power to kill,
Vntill (by tasting it) himselfe was slaine.
Euen so by tasting of that fruite forbid,
Where they sought knowledge, they did error find;
Ill they desir'd to know, and ill they did;
And to giue Passion eyes, made Reason blind.
For then their minds did first in Passion see
Those wretched shapes of Miserie and Woe,
Of Nakednesse, of Shame, of Pouertie,
Which then their owne experience made them know.
But then grew Reason darke, that she no more,
Could the faire formes of Good[64] and Truth discern;
Battes they became, that eagles were before:
And this they got by their desire to learne.
But we their wretched of-spring, what doe we?
Doe not we still taste of the fruit forbid
Whiles with fond[65] fruitlesse curiositie,
In bookes prophane we seeke for knowledge hid?
What is this knowledge but the sky-stolne fire,
For which the thiefe[66] still chain'd in ice doth sit?
And which the poore rude Satyre did admire,
And needs would kisse but burnt his lips with it.[67]
What is it? but the cloud of emptie raine,
Which when Ioue's guest imbrac't, hee monsters got?[68]
Or the false payles[69] which oft being fild with paine[70],
Receiv'd the water, but retain'd it not!
Shortly, what is it but the firie coach
Which the Youth sought, and sought his death withal?[71]
Or the boye's wings, which when he did approch
The sunne's hot beames, did melt and let him fall?[72]
And yet alas, when all our lamps are burnd,
Our bodyes wasted, and our spirits spent;
When we haue all the learnèd Volumes turn'd,
Which yeeld mens wits both help and ornament:
What can we know? or what can we discerne?
When Error chokes the windowes of the minde,
The diuers formes of things, how can we learne,
That haue been euer from our birth-day blind?[73]