It hath no vigour yet, it hath no strength;
Apt to be puft and quencht at every turn:
It was a gracious hand that thus endow’d
This snuff with flame: but mark, this hand doth shroud
Itself from mortal eyes, and folds it in a cloud.
Thus man begins to live. An unknown flame
Quickens his finished organs, now possest
With motion; and which motion doth proclaim
An active soul, though in a feeble breast:
But how, and when infus’d, ask not my pen;