The Dialog Between the Soul and Body

Soul O who shall, from this Dungeon, raise A Soul inslav'd so many ways? 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, 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 spite to try, Has made me live to let me die. A Body that could never rest, Since this ill Spirit it possest.

Soul 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: Constrain'd not only to endure Diseases, but what's worse, the Cure: And ready oft the port to gain, And Shipwrackt into Health again.

Body But Physic yet could never reach The maladies thou me dost teach; Whom the first Cramp of Hope dost tear: And then the Palsy shakes of Fear. The Pestilence of Love does heat: Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat. Joy's cheerful Madness does perplex: Or Sorrow's other Madness vex. Which Knowledge forces me to know, And Memory will not forgo. 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.

Source: http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/soulbody.htm