SEVENTEENTH CENTURY SONGS John Donne 1573-1631 AN ELEGY UPON THE DEATH OF THE LADY MARKHAM (First published 1633) Man is the world, and death the ocean To which God gives the lower parts of man. This sea environs all, and though as yet God hath set marks and bounds 'twixt us and it, 5 Yet doth it roar and gnaw, and still pretend To break our bank, whene'er it takes a friend: Then our land-waters (tears of passion) vent; Our waters then above our firmament Tears, which our soul doth for her sin let fall,10 Take all a brackish taste, and funeral. And even those tears, which should wash sin, are sin. We, after God, new drown our world again. Nothing but man of all envenom'd things, Doth work upon itself with inborn stings. 15 Tears are false spectacles; we cannot see Through passion's mist, what we are, or what she. In her this sea of death hath made no breach; But as the tide doth wash the shining beach, And leaves embroider'd works upon the sand, 20 So is her flesh refin'd by Death's cold hand, As men of China, after an age's stay, Do take up porcelain, where they buried clay, The diamonds, rubies, sapphires, pearls and mines, 25 Of which this flesh was) her soul shall inspire Flesh of such stuff, as God, when His last fire Annuls this world, to recompense it, shall Make and name them th' elixir of this all. They say the sea, when th' earth it gains, loseth too; 30 If carnal Death, the younger brother, do 35 So, unobnoxious now, she hath buried both; Grace was in her extremely diligent, 40 That kept her from sin, yet made her repent. Of what small spots pure white complains! Alas! How little poison cracks a crystal glass! She sinn'd, but just enough to let us see That God's word must be true,-all sinners be. 45 So much did zeal her conscience rarify, That extreme truth lack'd little of a lie, Making omissions acts; laying the touch Of sin on things, that sometimes may be such. As Moses' cherubims, whose natures do 50 Surpass all speed, by him are winged too, So would her soul, already in heaven, seem then To climb by tears the common stairs of men. How fit she was for God, I am content To speak, that Death his vain haste may repent; 55 How fit for us, how even and how sweet, How good in all her titles, and how meet That women can no parts of friendship be; A VALEDICTION FORBIDDING MOURNING (Sometimes called " Upon Parting from his Mistris," written, 1612?) As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say, 'Now his breath goes,' and some say, 'No;' 5 So let us melt, and make no noise, 10 No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys, To tell the laity our love. Moving of th' earth brings harm and fears, But trepidations of the spheres, Though greater far, are innocent. Dull sublunary Lovers' love, (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit 15 Absence; for that it doth remove Those things which elemented it. 20 But we, by a love so far refin'd Careless eyes, lips, and hands, to miss. Our two souls therefore, which are one, Like gold to airy thinness beat. 25 If they be two, they are two so 30 As stiff twin compasses are two; And though it in the centre sit, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must Like th' other foot, obliquely run; 35 Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun. SONG (From Poems, with Elegies on the Author's Death, 1633) Then fear not me; But believe that I shall make 15 Hastier journeys, since I take More wings and spurs than he. O how feeble is man's power, 20 Nor a lost hour recall. But come bad chance, And we join to it our strength, And we teach it art and length, 25 When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st no wind, It cannot be 30 That thou lov'st me as thou say'st, If in thine my life thou waste That art the best of me. |