By them the formes of outward things she learnes,
For they returne into the fantasie,
What euer each of them abroad discernes,
And there inrole it for the Minde to see.
But when she sits to iudge the good and ill,
And to discerne betwixt the false and true;
She is not guided by the Senses' skill,
But doth each thing in her owne mirrour view.
Then she the Senses checks, which oft do erre,
And euen against their false reports decrees;
And oft she doth condemne what they preferre,
For with a power aboue the Sense, she sees.
Therefore no Sense the precious ioyes conceiues,
Which in her priuate contemplations bee;
For then the rauish't spirit the Senses leaues,
Hath her owne powers, and proper actions free.
Her harmonies are sweet, and full of skill,
When on the Bodie's instrument she playes;
But the proportions of the wit and will,
Those sweete accords, are euen the angel's layes.
These tunes of Reason are Amphion's lyre,
Wherewith he did the Thebane citie found;
These are the notes wherewith the heauenly quire,
The praise of Him which made[96] the heauen doth sound.
Then her selfe-being nature shines in this,
That she performes her noblest works alone;
"The worke, the touch-stone of the nature is,
"And by their operations, things are knowne.
That the soule is more then a perfection or reflection of the sense.
Are they not sencelesse then, that thinke the Soule
Nought but a fine perfection of the Sense;
Or of the formes which fancie doth enroule,
A quicke resulting, and a consequence?
What is it then that doth the Sense accuse,
Both of false judgements, and fond appetites?
What makes vs do what Sense doth most refuse?
Which oft in torment of the Sense delights?