He rounds the aire, and breakes the hymnique notes
In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,
Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee
A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie.
In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,
Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee
A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie.
John Donne
_1633-69_]
[44-5 _omitted in 1633 between foot of one page and top of
next_]
[45 rarefie,] rectify, _D_, _H40_, _H49_, _JC_, _Lec_, _S96_]
[48 sometimes _1633 and MSS. :_ sometime _1635-69_, _and
Chambers_]
[52 teares,] tears _Chambers_
the . . . men _in brackets_ _A18_, _N_, _TC_]
[54 Death _D:_ death _1633-69_]
[58 women _1635-69_, _A18_, _A25_, _D_, _H49_, _JC_, _L74_,
_Lec_, _N_, _P_, _TC:_ woman _1633_, _Cy_
parts] parte _Cy_, _JC_. _This line written in large letters
in several MSS. _]
[60 vertues, _1633-35_, _1669:_ vertue, _1639-54_
thinke] thinks _1639_
old: _Ed:_ old. _1633-69_]
[62 tryumph _1633-69_, _A25_, _D_, _H40_, _Lec:_ triumphes
_A18_, _B_, _H49_, _JC_, _L74_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S96_, _TC_]
_Elegie on M^{ris}_ Boulstred.
Death I recant, and say, unsaid by mee
What ere hath slip'd, that might diminish thee.
Spirituall treason, atheisme 'tis, to say,
That any can thy Summons disobey.
Th'earths face is but thy Table; there are set 5
Plants, cattell, men, dishes for Death to eate.
In a rude hunger now hee millions drawes
Into his bloody, or plaguy, or sterv'd jawes.
Now hee will seeme to spare, and doth more wast,
Eating the best first, well preserv'd to last. 10
Now wantonly he spoiles, and eates us not,
But breakes off friends, and lets us peecemeale rot.
Nor will this earth serve him; he sinkes the deepe
Where harmelesse fish monastique silence keepe,
Who (were Death dead) by Roes of living sand, 15
Might spunge that element, and make it land.
He rounds the aire, and breakes the hymnique notes
In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,
Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee
A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie. 20
O strong and long-liv'd death, how cam'st thou in?
And how without Creation didst begin?
Thou hast, and shalt see dead, before thou dyest,
All the foure Monarchies, and Antichrist.
How could I thinke thee nothing, that see now 25
In all this All, nothing else is, but thou.
Our births and lives, vices, and vertues, bee
Wastfull consumptions, and degrees of thee.
For, wee to live, our bellowes weare, and breath,
Nor are wee mortall, dying, dead, but death. 30
And though thou beest, O mighty bird of prey,
So much reclaim'd by God, that thou must lay
All that thou kill'st at his feet, yet doth hee
Reserve but few, and leaves the most to thee.
And of those few, now thou hast overthrowne 35
One whom thy blow makes, not ours, nor thine own.
She was more stories high: hopelesse to come
To her Soule, thou'hast offer'd at her lower roome.
Her Soule and body was a King and Court:
But thou hast both of Captaine mist and fort. 40
As houses fall not, though the King remove,
Bodies of Saints rest for their soules above.
Death gets 'twixt soules and bodies such a place
As sinne insinuates 'twixt just men and grace,
Both worke a separation, no divorce. 45
Her Soule is gone to usher up her corse
Which shall be'almost another soule, for there
Bodies are purer, then best Soules are here,
Because in her, her virtues did outgoe
Her yeares, would'st thou, O emulous death, do so? 50
And kill her young to thy losse? must the cost
Of beauty,'and wit, apt to doe harme, be lost?
[44-5 _omitted in 1633 between foot of one page and top of
next_]
[45 rarefie,] rectify, _D_, _H40_, _H49_, _JC_, _Lec_, _S96_]
[48 sometimes _1633 and MSS. :_ sometime _1635-69_, _and
Chambers_]
[52 teares,] tears _Chambers_
the . . . men _in brackets_ _A18_, _N_, _TC_]
[54 Death _D:_ death _1633-69_]
[58 women _1635-69_, _A18_, _A25_, _D_, _H49_, _JC_, _L74_,
_Lec_, _N_, _P_, _TC:_ woman _1633_, _Cy_
parts] parte _Cy_, _JC_. _This line written in large letters
in several MSS. _]
[60 vertues, _1633-35_, _1669:_ vertue, _1639-54_
thinke] thinks _1639_
old: _Ed:_ old. _1633-69_]
[62 tryumph _1633-69_, _A25_, _D_, _H40_, _Lec:_ triumphes
_A18_, _B_, _H49_, _JC_, _L74_, _N_, _O'F_, _P_, _S96_, _TC_]
_Elegie on M^{ris}_ Boulstred.
Death I recant, and say, unsaid by mee
What ere hath slip'd, that might diminish thee.
Spirituall treason, atheisme 'tis, to say,
That any can thy Summons disobey.
Th'earths face is but thy Table; there are set 5
Plants, cattell, men, dishes for Death to eate.
In a rude hunger now hee millions drawes
Into his bloody, or plaguy, or sterv'd jawes.
Now hee will seeme to spare, and doth more wast,
Eating the best first, well preserv'd to last. 10
Now wantonly he spoiles, and eates us not,
But breakes off friends, and lets us peecemeale rot.
Nor will this earth serve him; he sinkes the deepe
Where harmelesse fish monastique silence keepe,
Who (were Death dead) by Roes of living sand, 15
Might spunge that element, and make it land.
He rounds the aire, and breakes the hymnique notes
In birds (Heavens choristers,) organique throats,
Which (if they did not dye) might seeme to bee
A tenth ranke in the heavenly hierarchie. 20
O strong and long-liv'd death, how cam'st thou in?
And how without Creation didst begin?
Thou hast, and shalt see dead, before thou dyest,
All the foure Monarchies, and Antichrist.
How could I thinke thee nothing, that see now 25
In all this All, nothing else is, but thou.
Our births and lives, vices, and vertues, bee
Wastfull consumptions, and degrees of thee.
For, wee to live, our bellowes weare, and breath,
Nor are wee mortall, dying, dead, but death. 30
And though thou beest, O mighty bird of prey,
So much reclaim'd by God, that thou must lay
All that thou kill'st at his feet, yet doth hee
Reserve but few, and leaves the most to thee.
And of those few, now thou hast overthrowne 35
One whom thy blow makes, not ours, nor thine own.
She was more stories high: hopelesse to come
To her Soule, thou'hast offer'd at her lower roome.
Her Soule and body was a King and Court:
But thou hast both of Captaine mist and fort. 40
As houses fall not, though the King remove,
Bodies of Saints rest for their soules above.
Death gets 'twixt soules and bodies such a place
As sinne insinuates 'twixt just men and grace,
Both worke a separation, no divorce. 45
Her Soule is gone to usher up her corse
Which shall be'almost another soule, for there
Bodies are purer, then best Soules are here,
Because in her, her virtues did outgoe
Her yeares, would'st thou, O emulous death, do so? 50
And kill her young to thy losse? must the cost
Of beauty,'and wit, apt to doe harme, be lost?
