The Poems of John Donne, Volume 1 (of 2) / Edited from the Old Editions and Numerous Manuscripts

  5I beg noe ribbond wrought with thine owne hands,

To knit our loves in the fantastick straine

Of new-toucht youth; nor Ring to shew the stands

Of our affection, that as that's round and plaine,

So should our loves meet in simplicity;

10No, nor the Coralls which thy wrist infold,

Lac'd up together in congruity,

To shew our thoughts should rest in the same hold;

No, nor thy picture, though most gracious,

And most desir'd, because best like the best;

15Nor witty Lines, which are most copious,

Within the Writings which thou hast addrest.

Send me nor this, nor that, t'increase my store,

But swear thou thinkst I love thee, and no more.

Nor he that hath wit, for he

Will make me his jest or slave;

15Nor a fool, for when others...,

He can neither....

Nor he that still his Mistresse payes,

For she is thrall'd therefore:

Nor he that payes not, for he sayes

20Within, shee's worth no more.

Is there then no kinde of men

Whom I may freely prove?

I will vent that humour then

In mine own selfe love.

BOTH rob'd of aire, we both lye in one ground,

 Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drownd.

VNDER an undermin'd, and shot-bruis'd wall

A too-bold Captaine perish'd by the fall,

Whose brave misfortune, happiest men envi'd,

That had a towne for tombe, his bones to hide.

THY sinnes and haires may no man equall call,

For, as thy sinnes increase, thy haires doe fall.

Why this man gelded Martiall I muse,

Except himselfe alone his tricks would use,

As Katherine, for the Courts sake, put downe Stewes.

FOND woman, which would'st have thy husband die,

And yet complain'st of his great jealousie;

If swolne with poyson, hee lay in' his last bed,

His body with a sere-barke covered,

  5Drawing his breath, as thick and short, as can

The nimblest crocheting Musitian,

Ready with loathsome vomiting to spue

His Soule out of one hell, into a new,

Made deafe with his poore kindreds howling cries,

10Begging with few feign'd teares, great legacies,

Thou would'st not weepe, but jolly,'and frolicke bee,

As a slave, which to morrow should be free;

Yet weep'st thou, when thou seest him hungerly

Swallow his owne death, hearts-bane jealousie.

15O give him many thanks, he'is courteous,

That in suspecting kindly warneth us.

Wee must not, as wee us'd, flout openly,

In scoffing ridles, his deformitie;

Nor at his boord together being fatt,

20With words, nor touch, scarce lookes adulterate.

Nor when he swolne, and pamper'd with great fare,

Sits downe, and snorts, cag'd in his basket chaire,

Must wee usurpe his owne bed any more,

Nor kisse and play in his house, as before.

25Now I see many dangers; for that is

His realme, his castle, and his diocesse.

But if, as envious men, which would revile

Their Prince, or coyne his gold, themselves exile

Into another countrie,'and doe it there,

30Wee play'in another house, what should we feare?

There we will scorne his houshold policies,

His seely plots, and pensionary spies,

As the inhabitants of Thames right side

Do Londons Major; or Germans, the Popes pride.

If red and white and each good quality

Be in thy wench, ne'r aske where it doth lye.

In buying things perfum'd, we aske; if there

Be muske and amber in it, but not where.

15Though all her parts be not in th'usuall place,

She'hath yet an Anagram of a good face.

If we might put the letters but one way,

In the leane dearth of words, what could wee say?

When by the Gamut some Musitions make

20A perfect song, others will undertake,

By the same Gamut chang'd, to equall it.

Things simply good, can never be unfit.

She's faire as any, if all be like her,

And if none bee, then she is singular.

25All love is wonder; if wee justly doe

Account her wonderfull, why not lovely too?

Love built on beauty, soone as beauty, dies,

Chuse this face, chang'd by no deformities.

Women are all like Angels; the faire be

30Like those which fell to worse; but such as shee,

Like to good Angels, nothing can impaire:

'Tis lesse griefe to be foule, then to have beene faire.

For one nights revels, silke and gold we chuse,

But, in long journeyes, cloth, and leather use.

35Beauty is barren oft; best husbands say,

There is best land, where there is foulest way.

Oh what a soveraigne Plaister will shee bee,

If thy past sinnes have taught thee jealousie!

Here needs no spies, nor eunuches; her commit

40Safe to thy foes; yea, to a Marmosit.

When Belgiaes citties, the round countries drowne,

That durty foulenesse guards, and armes the towne:

So doth her face guard her; and so, for thee,

Which, forc'd by businesse, absent oft must bee,

45Shee, whose face, like clouds, turnes the day to night,

Who, mightier then the sea, makes Moores seem white,

Who, though seaven yeares, she in the Stews had laid,

A Nunnery durst receive, and thinke a maid,

And though in childbeds labour she did lie,

50Midwifes would sweare, 'twere but a tympanie,

Whom, if shee accuse her selfe, I credit lesse

Then witches, which impossibles confesse,

Whom Dildoes, Bedstaves, and her Velvet Glasse

Would be as loath to touch as Joseph was:

55One like none, and lik'd of none, fittest were,

For, things in fashion every man will weare.

If I have caught a bird, and let him flie,

Another fouler using these meanes, as I,

May catch the same bird; and, as these things bee,

10Women are made for men, not him, nor mee.

Foxes and goats; all beasts change when they please,

Shall women, more hot, wily, wild then these,

Be bound to one man, and did Nature then

Idly make them apter to'endure then men?

15They'are our clogges, not their owne; if a man bee

Chain'd to a galley, yet the galley'is free;

Who hath a plow-land, casts all his seed corne there,

And yet allowes his ground more corne should beare;

Though Danuby into the sea must flow,

20The sea receives the Rhene, Volga, and Po.

By nature, which gave it, this liberty

Thou lov'st, but Oh! canst thou love it and mee?

Likenesse glues love: and if that thou so doe,

To make us like and love, must I change too?

25More then thy hate, I hate'it, rather let mee

Allow her change, then change as oft as shee,

And soe not teach, but force my'opinion

To love not any one, nor every one.

To live in one land, is captivitie,

30To runne all countries, a wild roguery;

Waters stincke soone, if in one place they bide,

And in the vast sea are more putrifi'd:

But when they kisse one banke, and leaving this

Never looke backe, but the next banke doe kisse,

35Then are they purest; Change'is the nursery

Of musicke, joy, life, and eternity.

ONCE, and but once found in thy company,

  All thy suppos'd escapes are laid on mee;

And as a thiefe at barre, is question'd there

By all the men, that have beene rob'd that yeare,

  5So am I, (by this traiterous meanes surpriz'd)

By thy Hydroptique father catechiz'd.

Though he had wont to search with glazed eyes,

As though he came to kill a Cockatrice,

Though hee hath oft sworne, that hee would remove

10Thy beauties beautie, and food of our love,

Hope of his goods, if I with thee were seene,

Yet close and secret, as our soules, we'have beene.

Though thy immortall mother which doth lye

Still buried in her bed, yet will not dye,

15Takes this advantage to sleepe out day-light,

And watch thy entries, and returnes all night,

And, when she takes thy hand, and would seeme kind,

Doth search what rings, and armelets she can finde,

And kissing notes the colour of thy face,

20And fearing least thou'art swolne, doth thee embrace;

To trie if thou long, doth name strange meates,

And notes thy palenesse, blushing, sighs, and sweats;

And politiquely will to thee confesse

The sinnes of her owne youths ranke lustinesse;

25Yet love these Sorceries did remove, and move

Thee to gull thine owne mother for my love.

Thy little brethren, which like Faiery Sprights

Oft skipt into our chamber, those sweet nights,

And kist, and ingled on thy fathers knee,

30Were brib'd next day, to tell what they did see:

The grim eight-foot-high iron-bound serving-man,

That oft names God in oathes, and onely than,

He that to barre the first gate, doth as wide

As the great Rhodian Colossus stride,

35Which, if in hell no other paines there were,

Makes mee feare hell, because he must be there:

Though by thy father he were hir'd to this,

Could never witnesse any touch or kisse.

But Oh, too common ill, I brought with mee

40That, which betray'd mee to my enemie:

A loud perfume, which at my entrance cryed

Even at thy fathers nose, so were wee spied.

When, like a tyran King, that in his bed

Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch shivered.

45Had it beene some bad smell, he would have thought

That his owne feet, or breath, that smell had wrought.

But as wee in our Ile emprisoned,

Where cattell onely,'and diverse dogs are bred,

The pretious Vnicornes, strange monsters call,

50So thought he good, strange, that had none at all.

I taught my silkes, their whistling to forbeare,

Even my opprest shoes, dumbe and speechlesse were,

Onely, thou bitter sweet, whom I had laid

Next mee, mee traiterously hast betraid,

55And unsuspected hast invisibly

At once fled unto him, and staid with mee.

Base excrement of earth, which dost confound

Sense, from distinguishing the sicke from sound;

By thee the seely Amorous sucks his death

60By drawing in a leprous harlots breath;

By thee, the greatest staine to mans estate

Falls on us, to be call'd effeminate;

Though you be much lov'd in the Princes hall,

There, things that seeme, exceed substantiall;

65Gods, when yee fum'd on altars, were pleas'd well

Because you'were burnt, not that they lik'd your smell;

You'are loathsome all, being taken simply alone,

Shall wee love ill things joyn'd, and hate each one?

If you were good, your good doth soone decay;

70And you are rare, that takes the good away.

All my perfumes, I give most willingly

To'embalme thy fathers corse; What? will hee die?

My body'a sack of bones, broken within,

10And powders blew staines scatter'd on my skinne;

If rivall fooles taxe thee to'have lov'd a man,

So foule, and course, as, Oh, I may seeme than,

This shall say what I was: and thou shalt say,

Doe his hurts reach mee? doth my worth decay?

15Or doe they reach his judging minde, that hee

Should now love lesse, what hee did love to see?

That which in him was faire and delicate,

Was but the milke, which in loves childish state

Did nurse it: who now is growne strong enough

20To feed on that, which to disused tasts seemes tough.

Whence they no tribute have, and where no sway.

Such services I offer as shall pay

Themselves, I hate dead names: Oh then let mee

10Favorite in Ordinary, or no favorite bee.

When my Soule was in her owne body sheath'd,

Nor yet by oathes betroth'd, nor kisses breath'd

Into my Purgatory, faithlesse thee,

Thy heart seem'd waxe, and steele thy constancie:

15So, carelesse flowers strow'd on the waters face,

The curled whirlepooles suck, smack, and embrace,

Yet drowne them; so, the tapers beamie eye

Amorously twinkling, beckens the giddie flie,

Yet burnes his wings; and such the devill is,

20Scarce visiting them, who are intirely his.

When I behold a streame, which, from the spring,

Doth with doubtfull melodious murmuring,

Or in a speechlesse slumber, calmely ride

Her wedded channels bosome, and then chide

25And bend her browes, and swell if any bough

Do but stoop downe, or kisse her upmost brow;

Yet, if her often gnawing kisses winne

The traiterous banke to gape, and let her in,

She rusheth violently, and doth divorce

30Her from her native, and her long-kept course,

And rores, and braves it, and in gallant scorne,

In flattering eddies promising retorne,

She flouts the channell, who thenceforth is drie;

Then say I; that is shee, and this am I.

35Yet let not thy deepe bitternesse beget

Carelesse despaire in mee, for that will whet

My minde to scorne; and Oh, love dull'd with paine

Was ne'r so wise, nor well arm'd as disdaine.

Then with new eyes I shall survay thee,'and spie

40Death in thy cheekes, and darknesse in thine eye.

Though hope bred faith and love; thus taught, I shall

As nations do from Rome, from thy love fall.

My hate shall outgrow thine, and utterly

I will renounce thy dalliance: and when I

45Am the Recusant, in that resolute state,

What hurts it mee to be'excommunicate?