I am returning to John Donne, who is probably the best religious poet we have; I don't like Milton or Blake overmuch, and seem to like my poetry either modern or very old. Donne was unfashionable during the reign of the Romantics and not nearly as well known as Milton, who was older and not as involved in the management of the Commonwealth of England. I wonder if Donne's Puritan politics made praising him unthinkable during the restoration. Charles the second had lists of republicans he considered traitors, and kept the headsman busy, beginning by hanging the corpse of Cromwell.
"Deign at my hands..." Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise, Weav'd in my low devout melancholy, Thou which of good, hast, yea art treasury, All changing unchanged Ancient of days, But do not, with a vile crown of frail bays, Reward my muse's white sincerity, But what thy thorny crown gained, that give me, A crown of Glory, which doth flower always; The ends crown our works, but thou crown'st our ends, For at our end begins our endlesse rest, The first last end, now zealously possest, With a strong sober thirst, my soul attends. 'Tis time that heart and voice be lifted high, Salvation to all that will is nigh. -- John Donne
"Deign at my hands..."
Deign at my hands this crown of prayer and praise, Weav'd in my low devout melancholy, Thou which of good, hast, yea art treasury, All changing unchanged Ancient of days, But do not, with a vile crown of frail bays, Reward my muse's white sincerity, But what thy thorny crown gained, that give me, A crown of Glory, which doth flower always; The ends crown our works, but thou crown'st our ends, For at our end begins our endlesse rest, The first last end, now zealously possest, With a strong sober thirst, my soul attends. 'Tis time that heart and voice be lifted high, Salvation to all that will is nigh. -- John Donne
Share this