They, who above do various circles find,
Say, like a ring, th' equator Heaven does bind
When Heaven shall be adorned by thee,
(Which then more Heaven than 'tis will be)
'Tis thou must write the poesy there,
For it wanteth one as yet,
Then the sun pass through't twice a year,
The sun, which is esteem'd the god of wit.--COWLEY.


The difficulties which have been raised about identity in philosophy
are by Cowley, with still more perplexity applied to love:


Five years ago (says story) I loved you,
For which you call me most inconstant now;
Pardon me, madam, you mistake the man;
For I am not the same that I was then:
No flesh is now the same 'twas then in me,
And that my mind is changed yourself may see.
The same thoughts to retain still, and intents
Were more inconstant far; for accidents
Must of all things most strangely inconstant prove,
If from one subject they t' another move;
My members then the father members were,
From whence these take their birth, which now are here
If then this body love what th' other did,
'Twere incest, which by nature is forbid.