A Dialogue Between The Soul And Body Analysis

Soul

O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise

A Soul inslav'd so many wayes?

With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands

In Feet ; and manacled in Hands.

Here blinded with an Eye ; and there

Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.

A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains

Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.

Tortur'd, besides each other part,1

In a vain Head, and double Heart.



Body

O who shall me deliver whole,

From bonds of this Tyrannic Soul?

Which, stretcht upright, impales me so,

That mine own Precipice I go;

And warms and moves this needless Frame:

(A Fever could but do the same.)

And, wanting where its spight to try,

Has made me live to let me dye.

A Body that could never rest,

Since this ill Spirit it possest.



Soul

What Magic could me thus confine

Within anothers Grief to pine?

Where whatsoever it complain,

I feel, that cannot feel, the pain.

And all my Care its self employes,

That to preserve, which me destroys:

Constrain'd not only to indure

Diseases, but, whats worse, the Cure:

And ready oft the Port to gain,

Am Shipwrackt into Health again.



Body

But Physick yet could never reach

The Maladies Thou me dost teach;

Whom first the Cramp of Hope does Tear:

And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.

The Pestilence of Love does heat :

Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.

Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:

Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.

Which Knowledge forces me to know;

And Memory will not foregoe.

What but a Soul could have the wit

To build me up for Sin so fit?

So Architects do square and hew,

Green Trees that in the Forest grew.

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