Selected quad for the lemma: blood_n
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A69225
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Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death
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Donne, John, 1572-1631.
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1633
(1633)
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STC 7045; ESTC S121864
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150,803
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413
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nature put thee in And to deliver up to God that state Of which he gave thee the vicariate Which is thy soule and body as intire As he who takes endeavours doth require But didst not stay t' enlarge his kingdome too By making others what thou didst to doe Why shouldst thou Triumph now when Heav'n no more Hath got by getting thee then t 'had before For Heav'n and thou even when thou livedst here Of one another in possession were But this from Triumph most disables thee That that place which is conquered must bee Left safe from present warre and likely doubt Of imminent commotions to breake out And hath he left us so or can it bee His territory was no more then Hee No we were all his charge the Diocis Of ev'ry exemplar man the whole world is And he was joyned in commission With Tutelar Angels sent to every one But though this freedome to upbraid and chide Him who Triumph'd were lawfull it was ty'd With this that it might never reference have Unto the Senate who this triumph gave Men might at Pompey jeast but they might not At that authoritie by which he got Leave to Triumph before by age he might So though triumphant soule I dare to write Mov'd with a reverentiall anger thus That thou so earely wouldst abandon us Yet I am farre from daring to dispute With that great soveraigntie whose absolute Prerogative hath thus dispens'd with thee ' Gainst natures lawes which just impugners bee Of early triumphs And I though with paine Lessen our losse to magnifie thy gaine Of triumph when I say It was more fit That all men should lacke thee then thou lack it Though then in our time be not suffered That testimonie of love unto the dead To die with them and in their graves be hid As Saxon wives and French soldarii did And though in no degree I can expresse Griefe in great Alexanders great excesse Who at his friends death made whole townes devest Their walls and bullwarks which became them best Doe not faire soule this sacrifice refuse That in thy grave I doe interre my Muse Who by my griefe great as thy worth being cast Behind hand yet hath spoke and spoke her last Elegie AS the sweet sweat of Roses in a Still As that which frō chaf'd muskats pores doth trill As the Almighty Balme of th' early East Such are the sweat drops of my Mistris breast And on her necke her skin such lustre sets They seeme no sweat drops but pearle coronets Ranke sweaty froth thy Mistresse's brow defiles Like spermatique issue of ripe menstruous boiles Or like the skumme which by needs lawlesse law Enforc'd Sanserra's starved men did draw From parboild shooes and bootes and all the rest Which were with any soveraigne fatnes blest And like vile stones lying in saffrond tinne Or warts or wheales it hangs upon her skinne Round as the world 's her head on every side Like to the fatall Ball which fell on Ide Or that whereof God had such jealousie As for the ravishing thereof we die Thy head is like a rough-hewne statue of jeat Where marks for eyes nose mouth are yet scarce set Like the first Chaos or flat seeming face Of Cynthia when th' earths shadowes her embrace Like Proserpines white beauty-keeping chest Or Joues best fortunes urne is her faire brest Thine's like worme eaten trunkes cloth'd in seals skin Or grave that 's dust without and stinke within And like that slender stalke at whose end stands The wood-bine quivering are her armes and hands Like rough bark'd elmboughes or the russet skin Of men late scurg'd for madnes or for sinne Like Sun-parch'd quarters on the citie gate Such is thy tann'd skins lamentable state And like a bunch of ragged carrets stand The short swolne fingers of her gouty hand Then like the Chymicks masculine equall fire Which in the Lymbecks warme wombe doth inspire Into th' earths worthlesse part a soule of gold Such cherishing heat her best lov'd part doth hold Thine's like the dread mouth of a fired gunne Or like hot liquid metalls newly runne Into clay moulds or like to that Aetna Where round about the grasse is burnt away Are not your kisses then as filthy and more As a worme sucking an invenom'd sore Doth not thy fearefull hand in feeling quake As one which gath'ring flowers still feares a snake Is not your last act harsh and violent As where a Plough a stony ground doth rent So kisse good Turtles so devoutly nice Are Priests in handling reverent sacrifice And nice in searching wounds the Surgeon is As wee when wee embrace or touch or kisse Leave her and I will leave comparing thus She and comparisons are odious Elegie The Autumnall NO Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace As I have seen in one Autumnall face Yong Beauties force our love and that 's a Rape This doth but counsaile yet you cannot scape If t' were a shame to love here t' were no shame Affections here take Reverences name Were her first yeares the Golden Age That 's true But now they' are gold oft tried and ever new That was her torrid and inflaming time This is her tolerable Tropique clyme Faire eyes who askes more heate then comes from hence He in a fever wishes pestilence Call not these wrinkles graves If graves they were They were Loves graves for else he is no where Yet lies not love dead here but here doth sit Vow'd to this trench like an Anachorit And here till hers which must be his death come He doth not digge a Grave but build a Tombe Iere dwells he though he sojourne ev'ry where In Progresse yet his standing house is here Iere where still Evening is not noone nor night Where no voluptuousnesse yet all delight In all her words unto all hearers fit You may at Revels you at counsaile sit This is loves timber youth his under-wood There he as wine in Iune enrages blood Which then comes seasonabliest when our tast And appetite to other things is past Xerxes strange Lydian love the Platane tree Was lov'd for age none being so large as shee Or else because being yong nature did blesse Her youth with ages glory Barrennesse If we love things long sought Age is a thing Which we are fifty yeares in compassing If transitory things which soone decay Age must be lovelyest at the latest day But name not Winter-faces whose skin 's slacke Lanke as an unthrifts purse but a soules sacke Whose Eyes seeke light within for all here 's shade Whose mouthes are holes rather worne out then made Whos 's every tooth to a severall place is gone To vexe their soules at Resurrection Name not these living Deaths-heads unto mee For these not Ancient but Antique be I hate extreames yet I had rather stay With Tombs then Cradles to weare out a day Since such loves motion natural is may still My love descend and journey downe the hill Not panting after growing beauties so I shall ebbe out
lips eyes thighs differ from thy two But so as thine from one another doe And oh no more the likenesse being such Why should they not alike in all parts touch Hand to strange hand lippe to lippe none denies Why should they brest to brest or thighs to thighs Likenesse begets such strange selfe flatterie That touching my selfe all seemes done to thee My selfe I embrace and mine owne hands I kisse And amorously thanke my selfe for this Me in my glasse I call thee But alas When I would kisse teares dimme mine eyes and glasse O cure this loving madnesse and restore Me to mee shee my halfe my all my more So may thy cheekes red outweare scarlet dye And their white whitenesse of the Galaxy So may thy mighty amazing beauty move Envy ' in all women and in all men love And so be change and sicknesse farre from thee As thou by comming neere keep'st them from me The Annuntiation and Passion TAmely fraile body'abstaine to day to day My soule eates twice Christ hither and away She sees him man so like God made in this That of them both a circle embleme is Whose first and last concurre this doubtfull day Of feast or fast Christ came and went away Shee sees him nothing twice at once who'is all Shee sees a Cedar plant it selfe and fall Her Maker put to making and the head Of life at once not yet alive yet dead She sees at once the virgin mother stay Reclus'd at home Publique at Golgotha Sad and rejoyc'd shee 's seen at once and seen At almost fiftie and at scarce fifteene At once a Sonne is promis'd her and gone Gabriell gives Christ to her He her to John Not fully a mother Shee 's in Orbitie At once receiver and the legacie All this and all betweene this day hath showne Th' Abridgement of Christs story which makes one As in plaine Maps the furthest West is East Of the'Angels Ave ' and Consummatum est How well the Church Gods Court of faculties Deales in some times and seldome joyning these As by the selfe-fix'd Pole wee never doe Direct our course but the next starre thereto Which showes where the'other is and which we say Because it strayes not farre doth never stray So God by his Church neerest to him wee know And stand firme if wee by her motion goe His Spirit as his fiery Pillar doth Leade and his Church as cloud to one end both This Church by letting those daies joyne hath shown Death and conception in mankinde is one Or 't was in him the same humility That he would be a man and leave to be Or as creation he hath made as God With the last judgement but one period His imitating Spouse would joyne in one Manhoods extremes He shall come he is gone Or as though one blood drop which thence did fall Accepted would have serv'd he yet shed all So though the least of his paines deeds or words Would busie a life she all this day affords This treasure then in grosse my Soule uplay And in my life retaile it every day Goodfriday 1613. Riding Westward 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 motion lose their owne And being by others hurried every day 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 whē my Soules forme bends toward the East 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 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 Could I behold those hands which span the Poles And tune 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 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 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 thou look'st towards mee 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 Restore thine Image so much by thy grace That thou may'st know mee and I 'll turne my face THE LITANIE I. The FATHER FAther of Heaven and him by whom It and us for it and all else for us Thou madest and govern'st ever come And re-create mee now growne ruinous My heart is by dejection clay And by selfe-murder red From this red earth O Father purge away All vicious tinctures that new fashioned I may rise up from death before I 'am dead II. The SONNE O Sonne of God who seeing two things Sinne and death crept in which were never made By bearing one tryed'st with what stings The other could thine heritage invade O be thou nail'd unto my heart And crucified againe Part not from it though it from thee would part But let it be by applying so thy paine Drown'd in thy blood and in thy passion slaine III. The HOLY GHOST O Holy Ghost whose temple I Am but of mudde walls and condensed dust And being sacrilegiously Halfe wasted with youths fires of pride and lust Must with new stormes be weatherbeat Double in my heart thy flame Which let devout sad teares intend and let Though this glasse lanthorne flesh do suffer maime Fire Sacrifice Priest Altar be the same IV. The TRINITY O Blessed glorious Trinity Bones to Philosophy but milke to faith Which as wise serpents diversly Most slipperinesse yet most entanglings hath As you distinguish'd undistinct By power love knowledge bee Give mee a such selfe different instinct Of these let all mee elemented bee Of power to love to know you unnumbred three V. The Virgin MARY For that faire blessed Mother-maid Whose flesh redeem'd us That she-Cherubin Which unlock'd Paradise and made One claime for innocence and disseiz'd sinne Whose wombe was a strange heav'n for there God cloath'd himselfe and grew Our zealous thankes wee poure As her deeds were Our helpes so are her prayers nor can she sue In vaine who hath such titles unto you VI. The Angels And since this life our nonage is And wee in