Selected quad for the lemma: death_n
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A20619
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An anatomy of the vvorld Wherein, by occasion of the vntimely death of Mistris Elizabeth Drury the frailty and the decay of this whole world is represented.
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Donne, John, 1572-1631.
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1611
(1611)
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STC 7022; ESTC S105367
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10,269
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32
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hurteth not Except it be from the liue Serpent shot So doth her vertue need her here to fit That vnto vs she working more then it But she in whom to such maturity Vertue was growne past growth that it must die She from whose influence all Impressions came But by Receiuers impotencies lame Who though she could not transubstantiate All states to gold yet guilded euery state So that some Princes haue some temperance Some Counsaylors some purpose to aduance The common profite and some people haue Some stay no more then Kings should giue to craue Some women haue some taciturnity Some Nunneries some graines of chastity She that did thus much and much more could doe But that our age was Iron and rusty too Shee shee is dead shee 's dead when thou knowst this Thou knowest how drie a Cinder this world is And learnst thus much by our Anatomy That 't is in vaine to dew or mollifie It with thy Teares or Sweat or Bloud no thing Is worth our trauaile griefe or perishing But those rich ioyes which did possesse her hart Of which shee 's now partaker and a part But as in cutting vp a man that 's dead The body will not last out to haue read On euery part and therefore men direct Their speech to parts that are of most effect So the worlds carcasse would not last if I Were punctuall in this Anatomy Nor smels it well to hearers if one tell Them their disease who faine would think they 're wel Here therefore be the end And blessed maid Of whom is meant what euer hath beene said Or shall be spoken well by any tongue Whose name refines course lines makes prose song Accept this tribute and his first yeares rent Who till his darke short tapers end be spent As oft as thy feast sees this widowed earth Will yearely celebrate thy second birth That is thy death For though the soule of man Be got when man is made 't is borne but than When man doth die Our body 's as the wombe And as a mid-wife death directs it home And you her creatures whom she workes vpon And haue your last and best concoction From her example and her vertue if you In reuerence to her doe thinke it due That no one should her prayses thus reherse As matter fit for Chronicle not verse Vouchsafe to call to minde that God did make A last and lastingst peece a song He spake To Moses to deliuer vnto all That song because he knew they would let fall The Law the Prophets and the History But keepe the song still in their memory Such an opinion in due measure made Me this great Office boldly to inâ—ade Nor could incomprehensiblenesse deterre Me from thus trying to emprison her Which when I saw that a strict graue could do I saw not why verse might not doe so too Verse hath a middle nature heauen keepes soules The graue keeps bodies verse the same enroules A FVNERALL ELEGIE T Is lost to trust a Tombe with such a ghest Or to confine her in a Marble chest Alas what 's Marble Ieat or Porphiry Priz'd with the Chrysolite of eyther eye Or with those Pearles and Rubies which shee was Ioyne the two Indies in one Tombe 't is glas And so is all to her materials Though euery inche were ten escurials Yet shee 's demolish'd Can we keepe her then In workes of hands or of the wits of men Can these memorials ragges of paper giue Life to that name by which name they must liue Sickly alas short-liu'd aborted bee Those Carkas verses whose soule is not shee And can shee who no longer would be shee Being such a Tabernacle stoope to bee In paper wrap't Or when she would not lie In such a house dwell in an Elegie But 't is no matter we may well allow Verse to liue so long as the world will now For her death wounded it The world containes Princes for armes and Counsailors for braines Lawyers for tongues Diuines for hearts and more The Rich for stomachs and for backes the Pore The Officers for hands Merchants for feet By which remote and distant Countries meet But those fine spirits which doe tune and set This Organ are those peeces which beget Wonder and loue And these were sheeâ— and shee Being spent the world must needes decrepit bee For since death will proceed to triumph still He can finde nothing after her to kill Except the world it selfe so great as shee Thus braue and confident may Nature bee Death cannot giue her such another blow Because shee cannot such another show But must we say shee 's dead May 't not be said That as a sundred Clocke is peece-meale laid Not to be lost but by the makers hand Repolish'd without error then to stand Or as the Affrique Niger streame enwombs It selfe into the earth and after comes Hauing first made a naturall bridge to passe For many leagues farre greater then it was May 't not be said that her graue shall restore Her greater purer firmer then bâ—fore Heauen may say this and ioy in 't but can wee Who liue and lacke her here this vantage see What is 't to vs alas if there haue beene An Angell made a Throne or Cherubin We lose by 't And as aged men are glad Being tastlesse growne to ioy in ioyes they had So now the sicke staru'd world must feed vpone This joy that we had her who now is gone Reioyce then nature and this world that you Fearing the last fires hastning to subdue Your force and vigor ere it were neere gone Wisely bestow'd and layd it all on one One whose cleare body was so pure and thin Because it neede disguise no thought within T' was but a through-light scarfe her minde t'enroule Or exhalation breath'd out from her soule One whom all men who durst no more admir'd And whom who ere had worth enough desir'd As when a Temple 's built Saints emulate To which of them it shall be consecrate But as when Heau'n lookes on vs with new eyes Those new starres eu'ry Artist exercise What place they should assigne to them they doubt Argue and agree not till those starres go out So the world studied whose this peece should be Till she can be no bodies else nor shee But like a Lampe of Balsamum desir'd Rather t' adorne then last shee soone expir'd Cloath'd in her Virgin white integrity For mariage though it doe not staine doth dye To scape th'infirmities which waite vpone Woman shee went away before sh'was one And the worlds busie noyse to ouercome Tooke so much death as seru'd for opium For though she could not nor could chuse to die Shee'ath yeelded to too long an Extasie He which not knowing her sad History Should come to reade the booke of destiny How faire and chast humble and high shee'ad beene Much promis'd much perform'd at not fifteene And measuring future things by things before Should turne the leafe to reade and read no more Would thinke that eyther destiny mistooke Or that some leafes were torne out of the booke But 't is not so Fate did but vsher her To yeares of Reasons vse and then infer Her destiny to her selfe which liberty She tooke but for thus much thus much to die Her modesty not suffering her to bee Fellow-Commissioner with destinee Shee did no more but die if after her Any shall liue which dare true good prefer Euery such person is her delegate T' accomplish that which should haue beene her fate They shall make vp that booke and shall haue thankes Of fate and her for filling vp their blanks For future vertuous deeds are Legacies Which from the gift of her example rise And 't is in heau'n part of spirituall mirth To see how well the good play her on earth FINIS
AN ANATOMY of the World WHEREIN BY OCCASION OF the vntimely death of Mistris ELIZABETH DRVRY the frailty and the decay of this whole world is represented LONDON Printed for Samuel Macham and are to be solde at his shop in Paules Church-yard at the signe of the Bul-head AN. DOM. 1611. TO THE PRAISE of the Dead and the ANATOMY WEl dy'de the world that we might liue to see This world of wit in his Anatomee No euill wants his good so wilder heyres Bedew their fathers Toombs with forced teares Whoâ—e state requites their los whils thus we gain Well may we walk in blacks but not complaine Yet how can I consent the world is dead While this Muse liues which in his spirits stead Seemes to informe a world and bids it bee In spight of losse or fraile mortalitee And thou the subiect of this wel-borne thought Thrise noble maid couldst not haue found nor sought A fitter time to yeeld to thy sad Fate Then whiles this spirit liues that can relate Thy worth so well to our last nephews eyne That they shall wonder both at his and thine Admired match where striues in mutuall grace The cunning Pencill and the comely face A taske which thy faire goodnes made too much For the bold pride of vulgar pens to tuch Enough is vs to praise them that praise thee And say that but enough those praises bee Which had'st thou liu'd had hid their fearefull head From th' angry checkings of thy modest red Death bars reward shame when enuy's gone And gaine 't is safe to giue the dead their owne As then the wise Egyptians wont to lay More on their Tombs then houses these of clay But those of brasse or marble were so wee Giue more vnto thy Ghost then vnto thee Yet what we giue to thee thou gau'st to vs And maist but thanke thy selfe for being thus Yet what thou gau'st and wert O happy maid Thy grace profest all due where 't is repayd So these high songs that to thee suited bine Serue but to sound thy makers praise in thine Which thy deare soule as sweetly sings to him Amid the Quire of Saints and Seraphim As any Angels tongue can sing of thee The subiects differ tho the skill agree For as by infant-yeares men iudge of age Thy early loue thy vertues did presage What an hiâ— part thou bear'st in those best songs VVhereto no burden nor no end belongs Sing on thou Virgin soule whose lossefull gaine Thy loue-sicke Parents haue bewayl'd in vaine Neuer may thy name be in our songs forgot Till we shall sing thy ditty and thy note AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD WHeÌ„ that rich soule w ch to her Heauen is gone Whom all they celebrate who know they haue one For who is sure he hath a soule vnlesse It see and Iudge and follow worthinesse And by Deedes praise it He who doth not this May lodge an in-mate soule but t is not his When that Queene ended here her progresse time And as t' her standing house to heauen did clymbe Where loth to make the Saints attend her long Shee 's now a part both of the Quire and Song This world in that great earth-quake languished For in a common Bath of teares it bled Which drew the strongest vitall spirits out But succour'd then with a perplexed doubt Whether the world did loose or gaine in this Because since now no other way there is But goodnes to see her whom all would see All must endeuour to be good as shee This great consumption to a feuer turn'd And so the world had fits it ioy'd it mournd And as men thinke that Agues physicke are And th' Ague being spent giue ouer care So thou sicke world mistak'st thy selfe to bee Well when alas thou' rt in a Letargee Her death did wound and tame thee than and than Thou mightst haue better spar'd the Sunne or Man That wound was deepe but 't is more misery That thou hast lost thy sense and memory T' was heauy then to heare thy voyce of mone But this is worse that thou art speechlesse growne Thou hast forgot thy name thou hadst thou wast Nothing but she and her thou hast o'repast For as a child kept from the Font vntill A Prince expected long come to fulfill The Ceremonies thou vnnam'd hadst laid Had not her comming thee her Palace made Her name defin'd thee gaue thee forme and frame And thou forgetst to celebrate thy name Some moneths she hath beene dead but being dead Measures of times are all determined But long shee'ath beene away long long yet none Offers to tell vs who it is that 's gone But as in states doubtfull of future heyres When sickenes without remedy empayres The present Prince they 're loth it should be said The Prince doth languish or the Prince is dead So mankind feeling now a generall thaw A strong example gone equall to law The Cyment which did faithfully compact And glue all vertues now resolu'd and slack'd Thought it some blasphemy to say sh'was dead Or that our weakenes was discouered In that confession therefore spoke no more Then tongues the soule being gone the losse deplore But though it be too late to succour thee Sicke world yea dead yea putrified since shee Thy'ntrinsique Balme and thy preseruatiue Can neuer be renew'd thou neuer liue I since no man can make thee liue will trie What we may gaine by thy Anatomy Her death hath taught vs dearely that thou art Corrupt and mortall in thy purest part Let no man say the world it selfe being dead 'T is labour lost to haue discouered The worlds infirmities since there is none Aliue to study this dissectione For there 's a kind of world remaining still Though shee which did inanimate and fill The world be gone yet in this last long night Her Ghost doth walke that is a glimmering light A faint weake loue of vertue and of good Reflâ—cts from her on them which vnderstood Her worth And though she haue shut in all day The twi-light of her memory doth stay Which from the carcasse of the old world free Creates a new world and new creatures be Produc'd The matter and the stuffe of this Her vertue and the forme our practise is And though to be thus Elemented arme These Creatures from hom-borne intrinsique harme For all assum'd vnto this Dignitee So many weedlesse Paradises bee Which of themselues produce no venemous sinne Except some forraine Serpent bring it in Yet because outward stormes the strongest breake And strength it selfe by confidence growes weake This new world may be safer being told The dangers and diseases of the old For with due temper men do then forgoe Or couet things when they their true worth know There is no health Physitians say that we At best enioy but a neutralitee And can there be worse sickenesse then to know That we are neuer well nor can be so We are borne ruinous poore mothers crie That children come not right nor orderly Except