The First Anniversary, Poem 4
The Second Anniuersarie. OF THE PROGRES of the Soule.
NOthing could make mee sooner to confesse.The entrance.
That this world had an euerlastingnesse,
Then to consider, that a yeare is runne,
Since both this lower worlds, and the Sunnes Sunne,
The Lustre, and the vigor of this All,
Did set; t'were Blasphemy, to say, did fall.
But as a ship which hath strooke saile, doth runne,
By force of that force which before, it wonne,
Or as sometimes in a beheaded man,
Through at those two Red seas, which freely ran,
One from the Trunke, another from the Head,
His soule be saild, to her eternall bed,
His eies will twinckle, and his tongue will roll,
As though he beckned, and cal'd backe his Soul,
He graspes his hands, and he puls vp his feet,
And seemes to reach, and to step forth to meet.
His soule, when all these motions which we saw,
Are but as Ice, which crackles at a thaw:
Or as a Lute, which in moist weather, rings
Her knell alone, by cracking of her strings.
So strugles this dead world, now shee is gone;
For there is motion in corruption.
As some Daies are, at the Creation nam'd,
Before the sunne, the which fram'd Daies, was fram'd,
So after this sunnes set, some show appeares,
And orderly vicisitude of yeares.
Yet a new Deluge, and of Lethe flood,
Hath drown' vsus all, All hauehave forgot all good,
Forgetting her, the maine Reserue of all,
Yet in this Deluge, grosse and generall,
Thou seest mee striue for life; my life shalbe,
To bee hereafter prais'd, for praysing thee,
Immortal Mayd, who though thou wouldst refuse
The name of Mother, be vntounto my Muse,
A Father since her chast Ambition is,
Yearely to bring forth such a child as this.
These Hymes may worke on future wits, and so
May great Grand-children of thy praises grow.
And so, though not Reuiue, embalme, and spice
The world, which else would putrify with vice.
for thus, Man may extend thy progeny,
Vntill man doe but vanish, and not die.
These Hymns thy issue, may encrease so long,
As till Gods great Venite change the song.
Thirst for that time, O my insatiate soule,A iust dis-estimation of this world.
And serue thy thirst, with Gods safe-fealing Bowle.
Bee thirsty still, and drinke still till, thou goe;
T'o th'onely Health, to be Hydroptique so.
Forget this rotten world; And vntounto thee,
Let thine owne times as an old story be
Be not concern'd: study not why, nor whan;
Do not so much, as not beleeue a man.
For though to erre, be worst, to try truths forth,
Is far more busines, then this world is worth.
The World is but a Carkas; thou art fed
By it, but as a worme, that carcas bred;
And why shouldst thou, poore worme, consider more,
When this world will grow better then before,
Then those thy fellow-wormes doe thinke vpone
That carkasses last resurrectione.
Forget this world, and scarse thinke of it so,
As of old cloaths, cast of a yeare agoe.
To be thus stupid is Alacrity;
Men thus lethargique hauehave best Memory.
Looke vpward; that's towards her, whose happy state
We now lament not, but congratulate.
Shee, to whom all this world twas but a stage,
Where all sat harkning how her youthfull age
Should be emploid, because in all, shee did,
Some Figure of the Golden times, was hid.
Who could not lacke, what ere this world could giuegive,
Because shee was the forme, that made it liue;
Nor could complaine, that this world was vnfit,
To be staid in, then when shee was in it;
Shee that first tried indifferent desires
By vertue, and vertue by religious fires,
Shee to whose person Paradise adhear'd,
As Courts to Princes; shee whose eies enspheard
Star-light inough, t'haue made the South controll,
(Had shee beene there) the Starfull Northern Pole,
Shee, shee is gone; shee is gone; when thou knowest this,
What fragmentary rubbidge this world is.
Thou knowest, and that it is not worth a thought;
He honors it too much that thinks it nought.
Thinke then, My soule, that death is but a Groome,Contemplation of our state in our death-bed.
Which brings a Taper to the outward romme,
Whence thou spiest first a little glimmering light,
And after brings it nearer to thy sight:
For such approches doth Heauen make in death.
Thinke thy selfe laboring now with broken breath,
And thinke those broken and soft Notes to bee
Diuision, and thy happiest Harmonee.
Thinke thee laid on thy death bed, loose and slacke;
And thinke that but vnbinding of a packe,
To take one precious thing, thy soule, from thence.
Thinke thy selfe parch'd with feuers violence,
Anger thine Ague more, by calling it
Thy Physicke; chide the slacknesse of the fit.
Thinke that thou hearst thy knell, and thinke no more,
But that, as Bels cal'd thee to Church before,
So this, to the Triumphant Church, cals thee.
Thinke Satans Sergeants round about thee bee,
And thinke that but for Legacies they thrust;
GiueGive one thy Pride, to'another giuegive thy Lust:
GiueGive them those sinnes which they gaue thee before,
And trust th'immaculate blood to wash thy score.
Thinke thy frinds weeping round, and thinke that thay
Weepe but because they goe not yet thy way.
Thinke that they close thine eyes, and thinke in this,
That they confesse much in the world, amisse,
Who dare not trust a dead mans eye with that,
Which they from God, and Angels couer not.
Thinke that they shroud thee vp, and thinke from thence
They reinuest thee in white innocence.
Thinke that thy body rots, and (if so lowe,
Thy soule exalted so, thy thoughts can goe.)
Thinke the a Prince, who of themselues create
Wormes which insensibly deuoure their state.
Thinke that they bury thee, and thinke that right
Laies thee to sleepe but a saint Lucies night.
Thinke these things cheerefully: and if thou bee
Drowsie or slacke, remember then that shee,
Shee whose Complexion was so euen made,
That which of her Ingredients should inuade
The other three, no Feare, no Art could guesse:
So far were all remou'd from more or lesse.
But as in Mithridate, or iust perfumes,
Where all good things being met, no one presumes
To gouerne, or to triumph no the rest,
OnelyOnly because all were, no part was best.
And as, though all doe know, that quantities
Are made of lines, and lines from Points arise,
None can these lines or quantities vnioynt,
And say this is a line, or this a point,
So though the Elements and Humors were
In her, one could not say, this gouernes there.
Whose euen constitution might hauehave worne
Any disease to venter on the Sunne,
Rather then her: and make a spirit feare
That he to disuniting subiect were.
To whose proportious if we would compare
Cubes, th'are vnstable; Circles, Angulare;
Shee who was such a Chaine, as Fate emploies
To bring mankind, all Fortunes it enioies,
So fast, so euen wrought, as one would thinke,
No Accident, could threaten any linke,
Shee, shee embrac'd a sicknesse, gaue it meat,
The purest Blood, and Breath, that ere it eat.
And hath taught vsus that though a good man hath
Title to Heauen, and plead it by his Faith,
And though he may pretend a conquest, since
Heauen was content to suffer violence,
Yea though he plead along possession too,
(For they'are in Heauen on Earth, who Heauens workes do,)
Though he had right, and power, and Place before,
Yet Death must vsher, and vnlocke the doore.
Thinke further on thy selfe, my soule, and thinke;Incommodities of the Soule in the Body.
How thou at first wast made but in a sinke;
Thinke that it argued some infermitee,
That those two soules, which then thou foundst in mee,
Thou fedst vponupon, And drewst into thee, both
My second soule of sence, and first of growth.
Thinke but how poore thou wast, how obnoxious,
Whom a small lump of flesh could poison thus.
This curded milke, this poore vnlittered whelpe
My body, could, beyond escape, or helpe,
Infect thee with originall sinne, and thou
Couldst neither then refuse, nor leaue it now.
Thinke that no stubborne sullen Anchorit,
Which fixt to'a Pillar, or a Graue doth sit
Beddded and Bath'd in all his Ordures, dwels
So fowly as our soules, in their first-built Cels.
Thinke in how poore a prison thou didst lie
After, enabled but to sucke, and crie.
Thinke, when t'was growne to most, t'was a poore Inne,
A Prouince Pack'd vp in two yards of skinne.
And that vsurped, or threatned with the rage
Of sicknesses, or their true mother, Age.
But thinke that Death hath now enfranchis'd thee,Her liberty by death.
Thou hast thy'expausion now and libertee;
Thinke that a rusty Peece, discharg'd, is flowen
In peeces, and the bullet is his owne,
And freely flies: This to thy soule allow,
Thinke thy sheel broke, thinke thy Soule hatch'd but now.
And thinke this slow-pac'd soule, which late did cleaue,
To'a body, and went but by the bodies leaue,
Twenty, perchance, or thirty mile a day,
Dispatches in a minute all the way,
Twixt Heauen, and Earth: shee staies not in the Ayre,
To looke what Meteors there themselues prepare;
Shee carries no desire to know, nor sense,
Whether th'Ayrs middle Region be intense,
For th' Element of fire, shee doth not know,
Whether shee past by such a place or no;
Shee baits not at the Moone, nor cares to trie,
Whether in that new world, men liue, and die.
Venus recards her not, to'enquire, how shee
Can, (being one Star) Hesper, and Vesper bee,
Hee that charm'd Argus eies, sweet Mercury,
Workes not on her, who now is growen all Ey;
Who, if shee meete the body of the Sunne,
Goes through, not staying till his course be runne;
Who finds in Mars his Campe, no corps of Guard;
Nor is by Ioue, nor by his father bard;
But ere shee can consider how shee went,
At once is at, and through the Firmament.
And as these stars were but so many beades
Strunge on one string, speed vndistinguish'd leades
Her through those spheares, as through the beades, a string,
Whose quicke succession makes it still one thing:
As doth the Pith, which, least our Bodies slacke,
Strings fast the little bones of necke, and backe;
So by the soule doth death string Heauen and Earth,
For when our soule enioyes this her third birth,
(Creation gaue her one, a second, grace,)
Heauen is as neare, and present to her face,
As colours are, and obiects, in a roome
Where darknesse was before, when Tapers come.
This must, my soule, thy long-short Progresse bee;
To'aduance these thoughts, remember then, that shee
Shee, whose faire body no such prison was,
But that a soule might well be pleas'd to passe
An Age in her; shee whose rich beauty lent
Mintage to others beauties, for they went
But for so much, as they were like to her;
Shee, in whose body (if wee dare prefer
This low world, to so high a mark, as shee,)
The Westerne treasure, Esterne spiceree,
Europe, and Afrique, and the vnknowen rest
Were easily found, or what in them was best;
And when w'haue made this large Discoueree,
Of all in her some one part then will bee
Twenty such parts, whose plenty and riches is
Inough to make twenty such worlds as this;
Shee, whom had they knowne, who did first betroth
The Tutelar Angels, and assigned one, both
To Nations, Cities, and to Companies,
To Functions, Offices, and Dignities,
And to each seuerall man, to him, and him,
They would hauehave giuen her one for eueryevery limme;
Shee, of whose soule, if we may say, t'was Gold,
Her body was th'Electrum, and did hold
Many degrees of that; (we vnderstood
Her by her sight, her pure and eloquent blood
Spoke in her cheekes, and so distinckly wrought,
That one might almost say, her bodie thought,
Shee, shee, thus richly, and largely hous'd, is gone:
And chides vsus slow-pac'd snailes, who crawle vponupon
Our prisons prison, earth, nor thinke vsus well
Longer, then whil'st we beare our brittle shell.
Her ignorance in this life and knowledge in the next.But t'were but little to hauehave chang'd our roome,
If, as we were in this our liuing Tombe
Oppress'd with ignorance, we still were so,
Poore soule in this thy flesh what do'st thou know.
Thou know'st thy selfe so little, as thou know'st not,
How thou did'st die, nor how thou wast begot.
Thou neither knowst, how thou at first camest in,
Nor how thou took'st the poyson of mans sin.
Nor dost thou, (though thou knowst, that thou art so)
By what way thou art made immortall, know.
Thou art to narrow, wretch, to comprehend
Euen thy selfe: yea though thou wouldst but bend
To know thy body. HaueHave not all soules thought
For many ages, that our body'is wrought
Of Ayre, and Fire, and other Elements?
And now they thinke of new ingredients.
And one soule thinkes one, and another way
Another thinkes, and ty's an euen lay
Knowst thou but how the stone doth enter in
The bladders Caue, and neuer breake the skin?
Knowst thou how blood, which to the hart doth flow,
Doth from one ventricle to th'other go?
And for the putrid stuffe, which thou dost spit,
Knowst thou how thy lungs hauehave attracted it?
There are no passages so that there is
(For ought thou knowst) piercing of substances.
And of those many opinions which men raise
Of Nailes and Haires, dost thou know which to praise?
What hope hauehave we to know our selues, when wee
Know not the least things, which for our vse bee?
We see in Authors, too stiffe to recant.
A hundred controuersies of an Ant.
And yet one watches, starues, freeses, and sweats,
To know but Catechismes and Alphabets
Of vnconcerning things, matters of fact;
How others on our stage their parts did Act;
What Caesar did, yea, and what Cicero said.
Why grasse is greene, or why our blood is red,
Are mysteries which none hauehave reach'd vntounto.
In this low forme, poore soule what wilt thou doe?
When wilt thou shake of this Pedantery,
Of being thought by sense, and Fantasy?
Thou look'st through spectacles; small things seeme great,
Below; But vp vntounto the watchtowre get,
And see all things despoyld of fallacies:
Thou shalt not peepe through lattices of eies,
Nor heare through Laberinths of eares, nor learne
By circuit, or collections to discerne.
In Heauen thou straight know'st all, concerning it,
And what concerns it not, shall straight forget.
There thou (but in no other schoole) maist bee
Perchance, as learned, and as full, as shee,
Shee who all Libraries had throughly red
At home, in her owne thoughts, And practised
So much good as would make as many more:
Shee whose example they must all implore,
Who would or doe, or thinke well, and confesse
That aie the vertuous Actions they expresse,
Are but a new, and worse edition,
Of her some one thought, or one action:
Shee, who in th'Art of knowing Heauen, was growen
Here vponupon Earth, to such perfection,
That shee hath, euer since to Heauen shee came,
(In a far fairer point,) but read the same:
Shee, shee, not satisfied withall this waite,
(For so much knowledge, as would ouer-fraite
Another, did but Ballast her) is gone,
As well t'enioy, as get perfectione.
And cals vsus after her, in that shee tooke,
(Taking herselfe) our best, and worthiest booke.
Of our company in this life and in the next.Returne not, my soule, from this extasee,
And meditation of what thou shalt bee,
To earthly thoughts, till it to thee appeare,
With whom thy conuersation must be there.
With whom wilt thou Conuerse? what station
Canst thou choose out, free from infection,
That wil nor giuegive thee theirs, nor drinke in thine?
Shalt thou not finde a spungy slack Diuine
Drinke and sucke in th'Instructions of Great men,
And for the word of God, vent them agen?
Are there not some Courts, (And then, no things bee
So like as Courts) which, in this let vsus see,
That wits and tongues of Libellars are weake,
Because they doe more ill, then these can speake?
The poyson'is gone through all, poysons affect
Chiefly the cheefest parts, but some effect
In Nailes, and Haires, yea excrements, will show;
So wise the poyson of sinne, in the most low.
Vp vp, my drowsie soule, where thy new eare
Shall in the Angels songs no discord heare;
Where thou shalt see the blessed Mother-maid
Ioy in not being that, which men hauehave said.
Where shee'is exalted more for being good,
Then for her interest, of motherhood.
Vp to those Patriarckes, which did longer sit
Expecting Christ, then they'haue enioy'd him yet.
Vp to those Prophets, which now gladly see
Their Prophecies growen to be Historee.
Vp to th'Apostles, who did brauely runne,
All the Sunnes course, with more light then the Sunne.
Vp to those Martyrs, who did calmely bleed
Oyle to th'Apostles lamps, dew to their seed.
Vp to those Virgins, who thoughts that almost
They made ioyntenants with the Holy Ghost,
If they to any should his Temple giuegive.
Vp, vp, for in that squadron there doth liue
Shee, who hath carried thether, new degrees
(As to their number) to their dignitees.
Shee, who beeing to herselfe, a state enioyd
All royalties which any state emploid,
For shee made wars, and triumph'd, reson still
Did not ouerthrow, but rectifie her will:
And shee made peace, for no peace is like this,
That beauty and chastity together kisse:
Shee did high iustice; for shee crucified
EueryEvery first motion of rebellious pride:
And shee gaue pardons, and was liberall,
For, onelyonly her selfe except, shee pardond all:
Shee coynd, in this, that her impressions gaue
To all our actions all the worth they hauehave:
Shee gaue protections; the thoughts of her brest
Satans rude Officers could nere arrest.
As these prerogatiues being met in one,
Made her a soueraigne state, religion
Made her a Church; and these two made her all.
Shee who was all this All, and could not fall
To worse, by company; (for shee was still
More Antidote, then all the world was ill,
Shee, shee doth leaue it, and by Death, suruiue
All this, in Heauen; whether who doth not striue
The more, because shee'is there, he doth not know
That accidentall ioyes in Heauen doe grow.
Of essentiall ioy in this life and in the next.But pause, My soule, and study ere thou fall
On accidentall ioyes, th'essentiall.
Still before Accessories doe abide
A triall, must the principall be tride.
And what essentiall ioy canst thou expect
Here vponupon earth? what permanent effect
Of transitory causes? Dost thou louelove
Beauty? (And Beauty worthyest is to moue)
Poore couse'ned cose'nor, that she, and that thou,
Which did begin to louelove, are neither now.
You are both fluid, chang'd since yesterday;
Next day repaires, (but ill) last daies decay.
Nor are, (Although the riuer keep the name)
Yesterdaies waters, and to daies the same.
So flowes her face, and thine eies, neither now
That saint, nor Pilgrime, which your louing row
Concernd, remaines, but whil'st you thinke you bee
Constant, you'are howrely in inconstancee.
Honour may hauehave pretence vntounto our louelove,
Because that God did liue so long aboue
Without this Honour, and then lou'd it so,
That he at last made Creatures to to bestow
Honor on him; not that he needed it,
But that, to his hands, man might grow more fit.
But since all honors from inferiors flow,
(For they doe giuegive it; Princes doe but show
Whom they would hauehave so honord) and that this
On such opinions, and capacities
Is built, as rise, and fall, to more and lesse,
Alas, tis but a casuall happinesse.
Hath euer any man to'himselfe assigned
This or that happinesse, to'arrest his minde,
But that another man, which takes a worse,
Thinke him a foole for hauing tane that course?
They who did labour Babels tower to'rect,
Might hauehave considerd, that for that effect,
All this whole solid Earth could not allow
Nor furnish forth Materials enow;
And that this Center, to raise such a place
Was far to little, to hauehave beene the Base;
No more affoords this worlds, foundatione
To erect true ioye, were all the meanes in one.
But as the Heathen made them seuerall gods,
Of all Gods Benefits, and all his Rods,
(For as the Wine, and Corne, and Onions are
Gods vntounto them, so Agues bee, and war)
And as by changing that whole precious Gold
To such small copper coynes, they lost the old,
And lost their onelyonly God, who euer must
Be sought alone, and not in such a thrust,
So much mankind true happinesse mistakes;
No Ioye enioyes that man, that many makes.
Then, soule, to thy first'pitch worke vponupon againe;
Know that all lines which circles doe containe,
For once that they the center touch, do touch
Twice the circumference; and be thou such.
Double on Heauen, thy thoughts on Earth emploid;
All will not serue; OnelyOnly who hauehave enioyd
The sight of God, in fulnesse, can thinke it;
For it is both the obiect, and the wit.
This is essentiall ioye, where neither hee
Can suffer Diminution, nor wee;
Tis such a full, and such a filling good;
Had th'Angels once look'd on him, they had stood.
To fill the place of one of them, or more,
Shee whom we celebrate, is gone before.
Shee, who had Here so much essentiall ioye.
As no chance could distract, much lesse destroy;
Who with Gods presence was acquainted so,
(Hearing, and speaking to him) as to know
His face, in any naturall Stone, or Tree,
Better then when in Images they bee:
Who kept, by diligent deuotion,
Gods Image, in such reparation,
Within her heart, that what decay was growen,
Was her first Parents fault, and not her own:
Who being solicited to any Act,
Still heard God pleading his safe precontract;
Who by a faithfull confidence, was here
Betrothed to God, and now is married there,
Whose twilights were more cleare, then our mid day,
Who dreamt deuoutlier, then most vse to pray;
Who being heare fild with grace, yet stroue to bee,
Both where more grace, and more capacitee
At once is giuen: shee to Heauen is gone,
Who made this world in some proportion
A heauen, and here, became vntounto vsus all,
Ioye, (as our ioyes admit) essentiall.
But could this low world ioyes essentiall touch,Of accidentall ioyes in both places.
Heauens accidentall ioyes would passe them much.
How poore and lame, must then our casuall bee?
If thy Prince will his subiects to call thee
My Lord, and this doe swell thee, thou art than,
By being a greater, growen to be lesse Man,
When no Physician of Reders can speake,
A ioyfull casuall violence may breake
A dangerous Apostem in thy brest;
And whilst thou ioyest in this, the dangerous rest,
The bag may rise vp, and so strangle thee.
What eie was casuall, may euer bee.
What should the Nature change? Or make the same
Certaine, which was but casuall, when it came?
All casuall ioye doth loud and plainly say,
OnelyOnly by comming, that it can away.
OnelyOnly in Heauen ioies strength is neuer spent;
And accidentall things are permanent.
Ioy of a soules arriuall neere decaies;
For that soule euer ioyes, and euer staies.
Ioy that their last great Consummation
Approches in the resurrection;
When earthly bodies more celestiall
Shalbe, then Angels were, for they could fall;
This kind of ioy doth eueryevery day admit
Degrees of grouth, but none of loosing it.
In this fresh ioy, tis no small part, that shee,
Shee, in whose goodnesse, he that names degree,
Doth iniure her; (Tis losse to be cald best,
There where the stuffe is not such as the rest)
Shee, who left such a body, as euen shee
OnelyOnly in Heauen could learne, how it can bee
Made better; for shee rather was two soules,
Or like to full, on both sides written Rols,
Where eies might read vponupon the outward skin,
As strong Records for God, as mindes within,
Shee, who by making full perfection grow,
Peeces a Circle, and still keepes it so,
Long'd for, and longing for'it, to heauen is gone,
Where shee receiues, and giues addition.
Here in a place, where mis-deuotion framesConclusion.
A thousand praiers to saints, whose very names
The ancient Church knew not, Heauen knowes not yet,
And where, what lawes of poetry admit,
Lawes of religion, hauehave at least the same,
Immortall Maid, I might inroque thy name.
Could any Saint prouoke that appetite,
Thou here shouldst make mee a french conuertite.
But thou wouldst not; nor wouldst thou be content,
To take this, for my second yeeres true Rent,
Did this Coine beare any other stampe, then his,
That gaue thee power to doe me, to say this.
Since his will is, that to posteritee,
Thou shouldest for life, and death, a patterne bee,
And that the world should notice hauehave of this,
The purpose, and th'Autority is his;
Thou art the Proclamation; and I ame
The Trumpet, at whose voice the people came.
FINIS.
End of the text · John Donne, The First Anniversary (1612)