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,
So at this grave, her limbec (which refines

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
Usurp the body; our soul, which subject is
To th' elder Death by sin, is free by this;
They perish both, when they attempt the just;
For graves our trophies are, and both Death's

dust.

35 So, unobnoxious now, she hath buried both;
For none to death sins, that to sin is loath,
Nor do they die, which are not loath to die;
So she hath this and that virginity.

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 wingèd 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
To have reform'd this forward heresy,

That women can no parts of friendship be;
How moral, how divine, shall not be told,
60 Lest they, that hear her virtues, think her old:
And lest we take Death's part, and make him glad
Of such a prey, and to his triumphs add.

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,
Men reckon what it did, and meant;

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
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assured of the mind

Careless eyes, lips, and hands, to miss.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,

Like gold to airy thinness beat.

25 If they be two, they are two so

30

As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixt foot, makes no show,
To move, but doth if th' other do.

And though it in the centre sit,

Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and harkens after it,

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,
That, if good fortune fall,
Cannot add another hour,

20

Nor a lost hour recall.

But come bad chance,

And we join to it our strength,
And we teach it art and length,
Itself o'er us t' advance.

25 When thou sigh'st, thou sigh'st no wind,
But sigh'st my soul away;
When thou weep'st, unkindly kind,
My life's-blood doth decay.

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.