Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death

About this Item

Title
Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death
Author
Donne, John, 1572-1631.
Publication
London :: Printed by M[iles] F[lesher] for Iohn Marriot, and are to be sold at his shop in St Dunstans Church-yard in Fleet-street,
1633.
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Link to this Item
http://name.umdl.umich.edu/A69225.0001.001
Cite this Item
"Poems, by J.D. VVith elegies on the authors death." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A69225.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed December 11, 2024.

Pages

Page 172

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.

Page 173

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.

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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 Wardship to thine Angels be, Native in heavens faire Palaces Where we shall be but denizen'd by thee, As th'earth conceiving by the Sunne, Yeelds faire diversitie, Yet never knowes which course that light doth run, So let mee study, that mine actions bee Worthy their sight, though blinde in how they see.

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VII.
The Patriarches.
And let thy Patriarches Desire (Those great Grandfathers, of thy Church, which saw More in the cloud, then wee in fire, Whom Nature clear'd more, then us grace and law, And now in Heaven still pray, that wee May use our new helpes right,) Be sanctified, and fructifie in mee; Let not my minde be blinder by more light Nor Faith by Reason added, lose her sight.
VIII.
The Prophets.
Thy Eagle-sighted Prophets too, Which were thy Churches Organs, and did sound That harmony, which made of two One law, and did unite, but not confound; Those heavenly Poëts which did see Thy will, and it expresse In rythmique feet, in common pray for mee, That I by them excuse not my excesse In seeking secrets, or Poëtiquenesse.

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IX.
The Apostles.
And thy illustrious Zodiacke Of twelve Apostles, which ingirt this All, From whom whosoever do not take Their light, to darke deep pits, throw downe, and fall, As through their prayers, thou'hast let mee know That their bookes are divine; May they pray still, and be heard, that I goe Th'old broad way in applying; O decline Mee, when my comment would make thy word mine.
X.
The Martyrs.
And since thou so desirously Did'st long to die, that long before thou could'st, And long since thou no more couldst dye, Thou in thy scatter'd mystique body wouldst In Abel dye, and ever since In thine, let their blood come To begge for us, a discreet patience Of death, or of worse life: for Oh, to some Not to be Martyrs, is a martyrdome.

Page 177

XI.
The Confessors.
Therefore with thee triumpheth there A Virgin Squadron of white Confessors, Whose bloods betroth'd, not marryed were; Tender'd, not taken by those Ravishers: They know, and pray, that wee may know, In every Christian Hourly tempestuous persecutions grow, Tentations martyr us alive; A man Is to himselfe a Dioclesian.
XII.
The Virgins.
The cold white snowie Nunnery, Which, as thy mother, their high Abbesse, sent Their bodies backe againe to thee, As thou hadst lent them, cleane and innocent, Though they have not obtain'd of thee, That or thy Church, or I, Should keep, as they, our first integrity; Divorce thou sinne in us, or bid it die, And call chast widowhead Virginitie.

Page 178

XIII.
The Doctors.
Thy sacred Academie above Of Doctors, whose paines have unclasp'd, and taught Both bookes of life to us (for love To know thy Scriptures tells us, we are wrought In thy other booke) pray for us there That what they have misdone Or mis-said, wee to that may not adhere, Their zeale may be our sinne. Lord let us runne Meane waies, and call them stars, but not the Sunne.
XIV.
And whil'st this universall Quire, That Church in triumph, this in warfare here, Warm'd with one all-partaking fire Of love, that none be lost, which cost thee deare, Prayes ceaslesly, 'and thou hearken too (Since to be gratious Our taske is treble, to pray, beare, and doe) Heare this prayer Lord, O Lord deliver us Frō trusting in those prayers, though powr'd out thus.

Page 179

XV.
From being anxious, or secure, Dead clods of sadnesse, or light squibs of mirth, From thinking, that great courts immure All, or no hppinesse, or that this earth Is only for our prison fram'd, Or that thou art covetous To them whom thou lovest, or that they are maim'd From reaching this worlds sweet, who seek thee thus, With all their might, Good Lord deliver us.
XVI.
From needing danger, to bee good, From owing thee yesterdaies teares to day, From trusting so much to thy blood, That in that hope, wee wound our soule away, From bribing thee with Almes, to excuse Some sinne more burdenous, From light affecting, in religion, newes, From thinking us all soule, neglecting thus Our mutuall duties, Lord deliver us.

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XVII.
From tempting Satan to tempt us, By our connivence, or slack companie, From measuring ill by vitious, Neglecting to choake sins spawne, Vanitie, From indiscreet humilitie, Which might be scandalous, And cast reproach on Christianitie, From being spies, or to spies pervious, From thirst, or scorne of flame, deliver us.
XVIII.
Deliver us for thy descent Into the Virgin, whose wombe was a place Of midle kind▪ and thou being sent To'ungratious us, staid'st at her full of grace, And through thy poore birth, where first thou Glorifiedst Povertie, And yet soone after riches didst allow, By accepting Kings gifts in the Epiphanie, Deliver, and make us, to both waies free.

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XIX.
And though that bitter agonie, Which is still the agonie of pious wits, Disputing what distorted thee, And interrupted evennesse, with fits, And through thy free confession Though thereby they were then Made blind, so that thou might'st from thē have gone, Good Lord deliver us, and teach us when Wee may not, and we may blinde unjust men.
XX.
Through thy submitting all, to blowes Thy face, thy clothes to spoile; thy fame to scorne, All waies, which rage, or Justice knowes, And by which thou could'st shew, that thou wast born, And through thy gallant humblenesse Which thou in death did'st shew, Dying before thy soule they could expresse, Deliver us from death, by dying so, To this world, ere this world doe bid us goe.

Page 182

XXI.
When senses, which thy souldiers are, Wee arme against thee, and they fight for sinne, When want, sent but to tame, doth warre And worke despaire a breach to enter in, When plenty, Gods image, and seale Makes us Idolatrous, And love it, not him, whom it should reveale, When wee are mov'd to seeme religious Only to vent wit, Lord deliver us.
XXII.
In Churches, when the'infirmitie Of him which speakes, diminishes the Word, When Magistrates doe mis-apply To us, as we judge, lay or ghostly sword, When plague, which is thine Angell, raignes, Or wars, thy Champions, swaie, When Heresie, thy second deluge, gaines; In th'houre of death, the'Eve of last judgement day, Deliver us from the sinister way.

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XXIII.
Heare us, O heare us Lord; to thee A sinner is more musique, when he prayes, Then spheares, or Angels praises bee, In Panegyrique Allelujaes, Heare us, for till thou heare us, Lord We know not what to say. Thine eare to'our sighes, teares, thoughts gives voice and word. O Thou who Satan heard'st in Jobs sicke day, Heare thy selfe now, for thou in us dost pray.
XXIV.
That wee may change to evennesse This intermitting aguish Pietie, That snatching cramps of wickednesse And Apoplexies of fast sin, may die; That musique of thy promises, Not threats in Thunder may Awaken us to our just offices, What in thy booke, thou dost, or creatures say, That we may heare, Lord heare us, when wee pray.

Page 184

XXV.
That our eares sicknesse wee may cure, And rectifie those Labyrinths aright, That wee by harkning, not procure Our praise, nor others dispraise so invite, That wee get not a slipperinesse, And senslesly decline, From hearing bold wits jeast at Kings excesse, To'admit the like of majestie divine, That we may locke our eares, Lord open thine.
XXVI.
That living law, the Magistrate, Which to give us, and make us physicke, doth Our vices often aggravate, That Preachers taxing sinne, before her growth, That Satan, and invenom'd men Which well, if we starve, dine, When they doe most accuse us, may see then Us, to amendment, heare them; thee decline; That we may open our eares, Lord lock thine.

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XXVII.
That learning, thine Ambassador, From thine allegeance wee never tempt, That beauty, paradises flower For physicke made, from poyson be exempt, That wit, borne apt, high good to doe By dwelling lazily On Natures nothing, be not nothing too, That our affections kill us not, nor dye, Heare us, weake ecchoes, O thou eare, and cry.
XXVIII.
Sonne of God heare us, and since thou By taking our blood, owest it us againe Gaine to thy selfe, or us allow; And let not both us and thy selfe be slaine; O lambe of God, which took'st our sinne Which could not stick to thee, O let it not returne to us againe, But Patient and Physition being free, As sinne is nothing, let it no where be.
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