Surely these are very fine, especially the middle verse of the former and the first verse of the latter stanza. The three stanzas together make us lovingly regret that Dr. Donne should have ridden his Pegasus over quarry and housetop, instead of teaching him his paces. The next I quote is artistic throughout. Perhaps the fact, of which we are informed by Izaak Walton, "that he caused it to be set to a grave and solemn tune, and to be often sung to the organ by the choristers of St. Paul's church in his own hearing, especially at the evening service," may have something to do with its degree of perfection. There is no sign of his usual haste about it. It is even elaborately rhymed after Norman fashion, the rhymes in each stanza being consonant with the rhymes in every stanza. A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before?[73] Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,[74] And do run still, though still I do deplore?-- When thou hast done, thou hast not done; For I have more. Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won Others to sin, and made my sins their door?[75] Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun A year or two, but wallowed in a score?-- When thou hast done, thou hast not done; For I have more. I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son Shall shine, as he shines now and heretofore; And having done that, thou hast done: I fear no more. In those days even a pun might be a serious thing: witness the play in the last stanza on the words _son_ and _sun_--not a mere pun, for the Son of the Father is the Sun of Righteousness: he is Life _and_ Light. What the Doctor himself says concerning the hymn, appears to me not only interesting but of practical value. He "did occasionally say to a friend, 'The words of this hymn have restored to me the same thoughts of joy that possessed my soul in my sickness, when I composed it.'" What a help it would be to many, if in their more gloomy times they would but recall the visions of truth they had, and were assured of, in better moments! Here is a somewhat strange hymn, which yet possesses, rightly understood, a real grandeur: A HYMN TO CHRIST _At the Author's last going into Germany_.[76] 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.