Nosce Teipsum: Feeling

Lastly, the feeling power, which is Life's root,
Through euery liuing part it selfe doth shed;
By sinewes, which extend from head to foot,
And like a net, all ore the body spred.

Much like a subtill spider, which doth sit
In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide;
If ought doe touch the vtmost thred of it,
Shee feeles it instantly on euery side.

By Touch, the first pure qualities we learne,
Which quicken all things, hote, cold, moist and dry;
By Touch, hard, soft, rough, smooth, we doe discerne;
By Touch, sweet pleasure, and sharpe paine, we try.

These are the outward instruments of Sense,
These are the guards which euery thing must passe
Ere it approch the mind's intelligence,
Or touch the Fantasie, Wit's looking-glasse.