John Donne
John Donne (1572-1631) has long been my favorite poet. Following are two reasons why:
Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee,'and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurpt town, to'another due,
Labour to'admit you, but Oh, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely'I love you,'and would be loved faine,
But am betroth'd unto your enemie:
Divorce me,'untie, or breake that knot againe,
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I,
Except you'enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.
-- Holy Sonnets, XIV, John Donne
Oh, to vex me, contraryes meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vowes, and in devotione.
As humorous is my contritione
As my profane Love, and as soon forgott:
As ridlingly distemper'd, cold and hott,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and to day
In prayers and flattering speeches I court God:
To morrow I quake with true feare of his rod.
So my devout fitts come and go away
Like a fantastique ague; save that here
Those are my best dayes, when I shake with feare.
-- Holy Sonnnets, XIX, John Donne
Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you
As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee,'and bend
Your force, to breake, blowe, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurpt town, to'another due,
Labour to'admit you, but Oh, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,
But is captiv'd, and proves weake or untrue.
Yet dearely'I love you,'and would be loved faine,
But am betroth'd unto your enemie:
Divorce me,'untie, or breake that knot againe,
Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I,
Except you'enthrall mee, never shall be free,
Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.
-- Holy Sonnets, XIV, John Donne
Oh, to vex me, contraryes meet in one:
Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot
A constant habit; that when I would not
I change in vowes, and in devotione.
As humorous is my contritione
As my profane Love, and as soon forgott:
As ridlingly distemper'd, cold and hott,
As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.
I durst not view heaven yesterday; and to day
In prayers and flattering speeches I court God:
To morrow I quake with true feare of his rod.
So my devout fitts come and go away
Like a fantastique ague; save that here
Those are my best dayes, when I shake with feare.
-- Holy Sonnnets, XIX, John Donne