Wit is the mind's chief iudge, which doth controule
Of Fancie's Court the iudgements, false and vaine;
Will holds the royall septer in the soule
And on[140] the passions of the heart doth raigne.
Will is as free as any emperour,
Naught can restraine her gentle libertie;
No tyrant, nor no torment, hath the power,
To make vs will, when we vnwilling bee.
The Intellectuall Memorie.
To these high powers, a store-house doth pertaine,
Where they all arts and generall reasons lay;
Which in the Soule, euen after death, remaine
And no Lethæan[141] flood can wash away.
This is the Soule, and these her vertues bee;
Which, though they haue their sundry proper ends,
And one exceeds another in degree,
Yet each on other mutually depends.
Our Wit is giuen, Almighty God to know;
Our Will is giuen to loue Him, being knowne;
But God could not be known to vs below,
But by His workes which through the sense are shown.
And as the Wit doth reape the fruits of Sense,
So doth the quickning power the senses feed;
Thus while they doe their sundry gifts dispence,
"The best, the seruice of the least doth need.
Euen so the King his Magistrates do serue,
Yet Commons feed both magistrate and king;
The Commons' peace the magistrates preserue
By borrowed power, which from the Prince doth spring.
The quickning power would be, and so would rest;
The Sense would not be onely, but be well;
But Wit's ambition longeth to the best,
For it desires in endlesse blisse to dwell.
And these three powers, three[142] sorts of men doe make:
For some, like plants, their veines doe onely fill;
And some, like beasts, their senses' pleasure take;
And some, like angels, doe contemplate still.