John Donne
Page 34
By reason of the foe’s great cruelness,
[280] As do the owls in the vast wilderness.
4 And when the sucking child doth strive to draw,
His tongue for thirst cleaves to his upper jaw.
And when for bread the little children cry,
There is no man that doth them satisfy.
5 They which before were delicately fed,
Now in the streets forlorn have perished,
And they, which ever were in scarlet clothed,
Sit and embrace the dunghills, which they loathed.
6 The daughters of my people have sinned more,
[290] Than did the town of Sodom sin before;
Which being at once destroyed, there did remain
No hands amongst them to vex them again.
7 But heretofore purer her Nazarite
Was than the snow, and milk was not so white
As carbuncles did their pure bodies shine,
And all their polish’dness was saphirine.
8 They are darker now than blackness, none can know
Them by the face, as through the street they go,
For now their skin doth cleave unto their bone,
[300] And withered is like to dry wood grown.
9 Better by sword than famine ’tis to die;
And better through pierced than by penury,
10 Women, by nature pitiful, have eat
Their children, dressed with their own hand for meat.
11 Jehovah here fully accomplished hath
His indignation and poured forth his wrath,
Kindled a fire in Zion, which hath power
To eat, and her foundations to devour.
12 Nor would the kings of the earth, nor all which live
[310] In the inhabitable world believe,
That any adversary, any foe,
Into Jerusalem should enter so.
13 For the priests’ sins, and prophets which have shed
Blood in the streets, and the just murdered,
14 Which when those men, whom they made blind, did stray
Through the streets, defiled by the way
With blood, the which impossible it was
Their garments should ’scape touching, as they pass,
15 Would cry aloud, Depart defiled men,
[320] Depart, depart, and touch us not, and then
They fled, and strayed, and with the gentiles were,
Yet told their friends, they should not long dwell there.
16 For this they are scattered by Jehovah’s face
Who never will regard them more. No grace
Unto their old men shall the foe afford,
Nor, that they are priests, redeem them from the sword.
17 And we as yet, for all these miseries
Desiring our vain help, consume our eyes;
And such a nation as cannot save,
[330] We in desire and speculation have.
18 They hunt our steps, that in the streets we fear
To go; our end is now approached near,
Our days accomplished are, this the last day,
Eagles of heaven are not so swift as they
19 Which follow us, o’er mountain tops they fly
At us, and for us in the desert lie.
20 The anointed Lord, breath of our nostrils, he
Of whom we said, under his shadow, we
Shall with more ease under the heathen dwell,
[340] Into the pit, which these men digged, fell.
21 Rejoice, O Edom’s daughter, joyful be
Thou which inhabit’st Uz, for unto thee
This cup shall pass, and thou with drunkenness
Shalt fill thyself, and show thy nakedness.
22 And then thy sins, O Zion, shall be spent,
The Lord will not leave thee in banishment.
Thy sins, O Edom’s daughter, He will see,
And for them, pay thee with captivity.
CHAP. V.
1 Remember, O Lord, what is fallen on us.
[350] See, and mark how we are reproached thus,
2 For unto strangers our possession
Is turned, our houses unto aliens gone,
3 Our mothers are become as widows, we
As orphans all, and without fathers be.
4 Waters which are our own we drink and pay,
And upon our own wood a price they lay.
5 Our persecutors on our necks do sit,
They make us travail, and not intermit;
6 We stretch our hands unto th’Egyptians
[360] To get us bread, and to the Assyrians.
7 Our fathers did these sins, and are no more,
But we do bear the sins they did before.
8 They are but servants, which do rule us thus,
Yet from their hands none would deliver us.
9 With danger of our life our bread we got;
For in the wilderness, the sword did wait.
10 The tempests of this famine we lived in,
Black as an oven coloured had our skin.
11 In Judah’s cities they the maids abused
[370] By force, and so women in Zion used.
12 The princes with their hands they hung; no grace
Nor honour gave they to the elder’s face.
13 Unto the mill our young men carried are,
And children fell under the wood they bare.
14 Elders, the gates, youth did their songs forbear,
Gone was our joy; our dancings, mournings were.
15 Now is the crown fall’n from our head; and woe
Be unto us, because we have sinned so.
16 For this our hearts do languish, and for this
[380] Over our eyes a cloudy dimness is.
17 Because Mount Zion desolate doth lie,
And foxes there do go at liberty;
18 But Thou, O Lord, art ever, and Thy throne
From generation, to generation.
19 Why should’st Thou forget us eternally?
Or leave us thus long in this misery?
20 Restore us, Lord, to Thee, that so we may
Return, and as of old, renew our day.
21 For oughtest Thou, O Lord, despise us thus
[390] 22 And to be utterly enraged at us?
Translated out of Gazæus, Vota Amico Facta
God grant thee thine own wish, and grant thee mine,
Thou who dost, best friend, in best things outshine;
May thy soul, ever cheerful, ne’er know cares,
Nor thy life, ever lively, know grey hairs.
Nor thy hand, ever open, know base holds,
Nor thy purse, ever plump, know pleats or folds.
Nor thy tongue, ever true, know a false thing,
Nor thy word, ever mild, know quarrelling.
Nor thy works, ever equal, know disguise,
[10] Nor thy fame, ever pure, know contumelies.
Nor thy prayers know low objects, still divine,
God grant thee thine own wish, and grant thee mine.
Upon the Translation of the Psalms by Sir Philip Sidney and the Countess of Pembroke, His Sister
Eternal God (for whom whoever dare
Seek new expressions, do the circle square,
And thrust into straight corners of poor wit
Thee, who art cornerless and infinite),
I would but bless Thy name, not name Thee now;
(And Thy gifts are as infinite as Thou)
Fix we our praises therefore on this one,
That as Thy blessèd spirit fell upon
These Psalms’ first author in a cloven tongue
[10] (For ’twas a double power by which he sung
The highest matter in the noblest form),
So Thou hast cleft that spirit to perform
That work again, and shed it here upon
Two, by their bloods and by Thy spirit one;
A brother and a sister, made by Thee
Two that make one John Baptist’s holy voice,
And who that Psalm, Now let the Isles rejoice,
Have both translated and applied it too,
[20] Both told us what and taught us how to do.
They show us islanders our joy, our King;
They tell us why, and teach us how to sing;
Make all this all, three choirs, heaven, earth, and spheres;
The first, heaven, hath a song, but no man hears;
The spheres have music, but they have no tongue,
Their harmony is rather danced than sung;
But our third choir, to which the first gives ear
(For angels learn by what the Church does here),
This choir hath all. The organist is he
[30] Who hath tuned God and man, the organ we;
The songs are these, which heaven’s high holy muse
Whispered to David, David to the Jews;
And David’s successors in holy zeal,
In forms of joy and art do re-reveal
To us so sweetly and sincerely too
That I must not rejoice as I would do
When I behold that these Psalms are become
So well attired abroad, so ill at home,
So well in chambers, in Thy Church so ill
[40] As I can scarce call that reformed until
This be reformed; would a whole state present
A lesser gift than some one man hath sent?
And shall our Church, unto our Spouse and King
More hoarse, more harsh than any other, sing?
For that we pray, we praise Thy name for this,
Which, by this Moses and this Miriam, is
Already done; and as those Psalms we call
(Though some have other authors) David’s all,
So though some have, some may some Psalms translate,
[50] We Thy Sidneyan Psalms shall celebrate,
And, till we come the extemporal song to sing
(Learned the first hour that we see the King,
Who hath translated these translators) may
These, their sweet learnèd labours, all the way
Be as our tuning, that when hence we part,
We may fall in with them and sing our part.
To Mr Tilman after He Had Taken Orders
Thou, whose diviner soul hath caused thee now
To put thy hand unto the holy plough,
Making lay-scornings of the ministry
Not an impediment, but victory,
What bringst thou home with thee? How is thy mind
Affected since the vintage? Dost thou find
New thoughts and stirrings in thee? And as steel
Touched with a lodestone, dost new motions feel?
Or, as a ship after much pain and care,
[10] For iron and cloth brings home rich Indian ware,
Hast thou thus traffic’d, but with far more gain
Of noble goods and with less time and pain?
Thou art the same materials as before,
Only the stamp is changed, but no more.
And as new crowned kings alter the face
But not the money’s substance, so hath grace
Changed only God’s old image by creation
To Christ’s new stamp, at this thy coronation;
Or, as we paint angels with wings because
[20] They bear God’s message and proclaim His laws,
Since thou must do the like and so must move,
Art thou new feathered with celestial love?
Dear, tell me where thy purchase lies, and show
What thy advantage is above, below.
But if thy gainings do surmount expression,
Why doth the foolish world scorn that profession
Whose joys pass speech? Why do they think unfit
That gentry should join families with it,
As if their day were only to be spent
[30] In dressing, mistressing, and compliment?
Alas, poor joys, but poorer men, whose trust
Seems richly placed in sublimed dust
(For, such are clothes and beauties, which though gay,
Are, at the best, but of sublimèd clay),
Let then the world thy calling disrespect,
But go thou on and pity their neglect.
What function is so noble as to be
Ambassador to God and destiny,
To open life, to give kingdoms to more
[40] Than kings give dignities, to keep heaven’s door?
Mary’s prerogative was to bear Christ, so
’Tis preachers’ to convey Him, for they do
As angels out of clouds, from pulpits speak
And bless the poor beneath, the lame, the weak.
If then th’astronomers, whereas they spy
A new-found star, their optics magnify,
How brave are those who with their engines, can
Bring man to heaven, and heaven again to man?
These are thy titles and pre-eminences,
[50] In whom must meet God’s graces, men’s offences,
And so the heavens, which beget all things here,
And the’earth our mother, which these things doth bear,
Both these in thee are in thy calling knit,
And make thee now a blest hermaphrodite.
A Hymn to Christ, at the Author’s Last Going into Germany
In what torn ship soever I embark,
That ship shall be my emblem of Thy ark;
What sea soever swallow me, that flood
Shall be to me an emblem of Thy blood;
Though Thou with clouds of anger do disguise
Thy face, yet through that mask I know those eyes,
Which, though they turn away sometimes,
They never will despise.
I sacrifice this island unto Thee,
[10] And all whom I loved there, and who loved me;
When I have put our seas ’twixt them and me,
Put Thou Thy sea betwixt my sins and Thee.
As the tree’s sap doth seek the root below
In winter, in my winter now I go
Where none but Thee, th’eternal root
Of true love I may know.
Nor Thou nor Thy religion dost control
The amorousness of an harmonious soul,
But Thou would’st have that love Thyself: as Thou
[20] Art jealous, Lord, so I am jealous now;
Thou lov’st not, till from loving more, Thou free
My soul: whoever gives, takes liberty:
O, if Thou car’st not whom I love,
Alas, Thou lov’st not me.
Seal then this bill of my divorce to all
On whom those fainter beams of love did fall;
Marry those loves, which in youth scattered be
On fame, wit, hopes (false mistresses), to Thee.
Churches are best for prayer that have least light:
[30] To see God only, I go out of sight,
And to ’scape stormy days, I choose
An everlasting night.
Hymn to God my God, in my Sickness
Since I am coming to that holy room
Where, with Thy choir of saints for evermore,
I shall be made Thy music, as I come
I tune the instrument here at the door,
And what I must do then, think here before.
Whil’st my physicians by their love are grown
Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie
Flat on this bed, that by them may be shown
That this is my South-west discovery
[10] Per fretum febris, by these straits to die,
I joy, that in these straits I see my West;
For, though their currents yield return to none,
What shall my West hurt me? As West and East
In all flat maps (and I am one) are one,
So death doth touch the resurrection.
Is the Pacific Sea my home? Or are
The Eastern riches? Is Jerusalem?
Anyan, and Magellan, and Gibraltar,
All straits, and none but straits, are ways to them,
[20] Whether where Japhet dwelt, or Cham, or Shem.
We think that paradise and calvary,
Christ’s cross, and Adam’s tree, stood in one place;
Look, Lord, and find both Adams met in me;
As the first Adam’s sweat surrounds my face,
May the last Adam’s blood my soul embrace.
So, in His purple wrapped receive me Lord,
By these His thorns, give me, His other crown;
And as to others’ souls I preached Thy word,
Be this my text, my sermon to mine own,
[30] Therefore that He may raise the Lord throws down.
A Hymn to God the Father
I
Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.
II
Wilt Thou forgive that sin by which I won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
[10] A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.
III
I have a sin of fear, that when I’ve spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy sun
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, Thou hast done,
I have no more.
To Mr George Herbert, with One of my Seals, of the Anchor and Christ
Qui prius assuetus Serpentum fasce Tabellas
Signare, (haec nostrae symbola parva Domus)
Adscitus domui Domini, patrióque relicto
Stemmate, nanciscor stemmata jure nova.
Hinc mihi Crux primo quae fronte impressa lavacro,
Finibus extensis, anchora facta patet.
Anchorae in effigiem, Crux tandem desinit ipsam,
Anchora fit tandem Crux tolerata diu.
Hoc tamen ut fiat, Christo vegetatur ab ipso
[10] Crux, et ab Affixo, est Anchora facta, Iesu.
Nec Natalitiis penitus serpentibus orbor,
Non ita dat Deus, ut auferat ante data.
Quâ sapiens, Dos est; Quâ terram lambit et ambit,