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| OF |
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| THE PROGRESSE |
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| OF THE SOULE. |
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| The second Anniversarie. |
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| Nothing could make me sooner to confesse |
| That this world had an everlastingnesse, |
| Then to consider, that a yeare is runne, |
| Since both this lower world's, and the Sunnes Sunne, |
| The Lustre, and the vigor of this all, |
| Did set; 'twere blasphemie to say, did fall. |
| But as a ship which hath strooke saile, doth runne |
| By force of that force which before, it wonne: |
| Or as sometimes in a beheaded man, |
| Though at those two Red seas, which freely ranne, |
| One from the Trunke, another from the Head, |
| His soule he sail'd, to her eternall bed, |
| His eyes will twinckle, and his tongue will roll, |
| As though he beckned, and cal'd backe his soule, |
| He graspes his hands, and he pulls up his feet, |
| And seemes to reach, and to step forth to meet |
| His soule; when all these motions which we saw, |
| Are but as Ice, which crackles at a thaw:
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[CW:Or] |