Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO THE COUNTESS OF SALISBURY, by JOHN DONNE Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Faire, great, and good, since seeing you, wee see Last Line: And though I burne my librarie, be learn'd. | ||||||||
Faire, great, and good, since seeing you, wee see What Heaven can doe, and what any Earth can be: Since now your beauty shines, now when the Sunne Growne stale, is to so low a value runne, That his disshevel'd beames and scattered fires Serve but for Ladies Periwigs and Tyres In lovers Sonnets: you come to repaire Gods booke of creatures, teaching what is faire. Since now, when all is withered, shrunke, and dri'd, All Vertues ebb'd out to a dead low tyde, All the worlds frame being crumbled into sand, Where every man thinks by himselfe to stand, Integritie, friendship, and confidence, (Ciments of greatnes) being vapor'd hence, And narrow man being fill'd with little shares, Court, Citie, Church, are all shops of small-wares, All having blowne to sparkes their noble fire, And drawne their sound gold-ingot into wyre; All trying by a love of littlenesse To make abridgments, and to draw to lesse, Even that nothing, which at first we were; Since in these times, your greatnesse doth appeare, And that we learne by it, that man to get Towards him that's infinite, must first be great. Since in an age so ill, as none is fit So much as to accuse, must lesse mend it, (For who can judge, or witnesse of those times Where all alike are guiltie of the crimes?) Where he that would be good, is thought by all A monster, or at best fantasticall; Since now you durst be good, and that I doe Discerne, by daring to contemplate you, That there may be degrees of faire, great, good, Through your light, largenesse, vertue understood: If in this sacrifice of mine, be showne Any small sparke of these, call it your owne. And if things like these, have been said by mee Of others; call not that Idolatrie. For had God made man first, and man had seene The third daies fruits, and flowers, and various greene, He might have said the best that he could say Of those faire creatures, which were made that day; And when next day he had admir'd the birth Of Sun, Moone, Stars, fairer then late-prais'd earth, Hee might have said the best that he could say, And not be chid for praising yesterday; So though some things are not together true, As, that another is worthiest, and, that you: Yet, to say so, doth not condemne a man, If when he spoke them, they were both true than. How faire a proofe of this, in our soule growes? Wee first have soules of growth, and sense, and those, When our last soule, our soule immortall came, Were swallowed into it, and have no name. Nor doth he injure those soules, which doth cast The power and praise of both them, on the last; No more doe I wrong any; I adore The same things now, which I ador'd before, The subject chang'd, and measure; the same thing In a low constable, and in the King I reverence; His power to work on mee: So did I humbly reverence each degree Of faire, great, good; but more, now I am come From having found their walkes, to find their home. And as I owe my first soules thankes, that they For my last soule did fit and mould my clay, So am I debtor unto them, whose worth, Enabled me to profit, and take forth This new great lesson, thus to study you; Which none, not reading others, first, could doe. Nor lacke I light to read this booke, though I In a darke Cave, yea in a Grave doe lie; For as your fellow Angells, so you doe Illustrate them who come to study you. The first whom we in Histories doe finde To have profest all Arts, was one borne blinde: He lackt those eyes beasts have as well as wee, Not those, by which Angels are seene and see; So, though I'am borne without those eyes to live, Which fortune, who hath none her selfe, doth give, Which are, fit meanes to see bright courts and you, Yet may I see you thus, as now I doe; I shall by that, all goodnesse have discern'd, And though I burne my librarie, be learn'd. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A HYMN TO CHRIST, AT THE AUTHOR'S LAST GOING INTO GERMANY by JOHN DONNE A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER by JOHN DONNE A LECTURE UPON THE SHADOW by JOHN DONNE A NOCTURNAL UPON ST. LUCY'S DAY, BEING THE SHORTEST DAY by JOHN DONNE A VALEDICTION: FORBIDDING MOURNING by JOHN DONNE A VALEDICTION: OF MY NAME IN THE WINDOW by JOHN DONNE A VALEDICTION: OF THE BOOKE by JOHN DONNE A VALEDICTION: OF WEEPING by JOHN DONNE AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD: THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY by JOHN DONNE ELEGY: 11. THE BRACELET; UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESS'S CHAIN by JOHN DONNE |
|