Before we die,'
—a stanza that bears a very suspicious resemblance to Davies' quatrain—
'We that acquaint ourselves with every zone,
And pass both tropics, and behold both poles;
When we come home, are to ourselves unknown
And unacquainted still with our own souls.'
All the arguments for and against the immortality of the soul were threshed out ages ago, and there is little or nothing new to say on the subject. A poet's skill lies in graciously attiring the old commonplaces; in searching out the right persuasive words and uttering them so melodiously that dull 'approved verities'—sparkling with sudden lustre—are transmuted into something rich and strange. It is idle to talk about Davies' 'deep and original thinking.' Many stanzas can be brushed aside as tiresome and uncouth; but something will be left. In his handling of the ten-syllabled quatrain (with alternate rhymes) Davies showed considerable deftness. The metre has weight and dignity, but is apt to become stiff and monotonous. Davies certainly succeeded in securing more freedom and variety than might have been anticipated. Inspired by his example, Davenant chose this metre for Gondibert; and Davenant was followed by Dryden, who in the preface to Annus Mirabilis says all that can be said in favour of the quatrain (which was seen to best advantage in Gray's Elegy).
Though few may be at the pains to read through Nosce Teipsum at a blow, it is a poem that lends itself admirably to quotation. Towards the end there is a cluster of fine stanzas('O ignorant poor man,' etc.) that have found their way into many volumes of selected poetry; and even the arid tracts are dotted with green oases. Tennyson, with somewhat wearisome iteration, pleaded through stanza after stanza of In Memoriam that the longing which most men unquestionably have for immortality must needs be based on a sure foundation:—
'We think we were not made to die,