The Poems of John Donne, Volume 1 (of 2): Edited from the Old Editions and Numerous ManuscriptsDonne, John
General
The Poems of John Donne, Volume 1 (of 2): Edited from the Old Editions and Numerous Manuscripts
Donne, John
English poetry -- Early modern, 1500-1700
Let mans Soule be a Spheare, and then, in this,
The intelligence that moves, devotion is,
And as the other Spheares, by being growne
Subject to forraigne motions, lose their owne,
And being by others hurried every day, 5
Scarce in a yeare their naturall forme obey:
Pleasure or businesse, so, our Soules admit
For their first mover, and are whirld by it.
Hence is't, that I am carryed towards the West
This day, when my Soules forme bends toward the East. 10
There I should see a Sunne, by rising set,
And by that setting endlesse day beget;
But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall,
Sinne had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I'almost be glad, I do not see 15
That spectacle of too much weight for mee.
Who sees Gods face, that is selfe life, must dye;
What a death were it then to see God dye?
It made his owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke,
It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke. 20
Could I behold those hands which span the Poles,
And turne all spheares at once, peirc'd with those holes?
Could I behold that endlesse height which is
Zenith to us, and our Antipodes,
Humbled below us? or that blood which is 25
The seat of all our Soules, if not of his,
Made durt of dust, or that flesh which was worne
By God, for his apparell, rag'd, and torne?
If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye, 30
Who was Gods partner here, and furnish'd thus
Halfe of that Sacrifice, which ransom'd us?
Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
They'are present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and thou look'st towards mee, 35
O Saviour, as thou hang'st upon the tree;
I turne my backe to thee, but to receive
Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee,
Burne off my rusts, and my deformity, 40
Restore thine Image, so much, by thy grace,
That thou may'st know mee, and I'll turne my face.
[Goodfriday, _&c._ _1633-69:_ Good Friday (_with or without
date and_ Riding _&c._) _A18_, _B_, _Cy_, _N_, _S_, _S96_,
_TCC_, _TCD:_ Good Friday. 1613. Riding towards Wales. _D_,
_Lec_, _O'F:_ Good Friday. 1613. Riding to S^r Edward Harbert
in Wales. _H49:_ M^r J. Duñ goeing from Sir H. G. on good
friday sent him back this meditation on the way. _A25_]
[4 motions _A18_, _B_, _Cy_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec_, _N_, _O'F_,
_S_, _S96_, _TC:_ motion, _1633-69_]
[8 and] _bis_ _1650-54_]
[10 toward _1633:_ _do. or_ towards _MSS.:_ to _1635-69_,
_O'F_]
[12 beget _1633:_ beget. _1635-69_, _Chambers_]
[13 this Crosse, _1633_, _A18_, _D_, _H49_, _Lec_, _O'F_, _S_,
_S96_, _TCC:_ his Crosse, _1635-69_, _B_, _Cy_, _N_, _TCD_]
[16 too] two _1639-69_]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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