poem:
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.
BodyO 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.
SoulWhat 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.
BodyBut 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.
by Andrew Marvell
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.
BodyO 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.
SoulWhat 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.
BodyBut 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.
by Andrew Marvell
A Dialogue Between The Soul And Body
I was looking over a list of poems by Andrew Marvell and one immediately jumped out to me. “A Dialogue between the Soul and the Body” caught my attention because just last night I was thinking how much I needed to get in-tune to my soul. As odd as it might sound, I have seen my soul. I went on a guided mediation to meet my higher self, my inner soul, and I saw her. I am determined to be her, to be the “me” from within. I have a feeling that maybe that is what the poem is about, becoming in-tune with the soul.As it turns out, I was wrong, at least according to the first two stanzas. In the first stanza the soul is talking about how trapped it feels inside the body. Something I can relate to so strongly it scares me. There are times when I feel like I am my soul and that there is not enough room in this body, that I am constricted and caged. I just want to tear my skin off and breathe as if my body is just a heavy blanket suffocating me in a cage of bone. The soul says “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.” Blinded with an eye and deaf with the drumming of an ear, those lines stick out to me like sore thumbs. Since I have become more into reality, or at least less connected to my spiritual side, I have not seen or heard from my spirit guide. I have always been mostly blind to the unseen, my inner eye being underactive and I haven’t heard very much since I started trying to listen. This physical body has pretty much become a prison, cutting me off from those I long to be with.
The second stanza is the body basically blaming the spirit, or soul, for its unrest and uneasiness. The body says that it feels feverish and that it is tortured by the soul. A Particular line stuck out to me in this stanza as well: “Has made me live to let me dye”. The soul brings forth life into the body, yet it is the reason several bodies wish to die. I believe that my spirit is the reason I was suicidal (other than the chemical imbalance in my brain). I think this may be the first time my spirit has been in human form and it very often wants out. When I say “wants out” I mean it wants out of this body, out of this particular life, out of this restrictive and separate life. Even now the thought of death is a very welcome thought and is an event I look forward to. But these are not natural thoughts for a living body, and can torture the body just as much as the soul. I believe my bipolar disorder is caused by my soul, yet it is my body that suffers.
The third stanza is told by the soul again, talking about how empathy comes naturally and that it can’t be turned off. “What Magic could me thus confine Within another’s Grief to pine? Where whatsoever it complain, I feel, that cannot feel, the pain. And all my Care its self employs, That to preserve, which me destroys” these words are basically saying that empathy cannot be turned off so that when the soul feels for another’s situation it feels the pain. It hurts when others hurt, spiritually and emotionally, not physically. I also can attest to it, it is because of this I am often called to compassion and am considered “too nice”.
The body then tells the spirit that it suffers as well, not physically, but emotionally. Sadness, fear, love, hatred are all things that plague the body because of the soul. “What but a Soul could have the wit To build me up for Sin so fit?” the body is explaining that what could cause these feelings other than the soul? I can agree that the soul can cause emotions. Those people who cannot feel emotions the way most do, psychopaths, have had their bodies and minds traumatized to the point that they cannot connect to the spirit at all, depriving them of a full flow of emotion, empathy, and compassion. There are times I feel like I lose contact with my spirit, or that I make a connection to it in a way that I am able to temporarily stop my emotion and become poised to attack. I think this is because my spirit has lived before, though not as a human, and has had previous experience with life and knows when it is alright to become sharp and fierce instead of soft and gentle.
Basically the poem is saying, and I agree, that the body and spirit influence eachother, in both enjoyable and not so fun ways. The Soul is what drives the body, but can also cause the issues that come with life and with the body. The issues of the body, its limitations for example, are what cause pain for the spirit. They both help and torture each other.
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