Part 2 (2/2)
And yet this death of mine, I fear, Will ominous to her appear: When sound in every other part, Her sacrifice is found without an heart.
For the last tempest of my death Shall sigh out that too, with my breath.
That the chaos was harmonized, has been recited of old; but whence the different sounds arose remained for a modern to discover:
Th' ungovern'd parts no correspondence knew; An artless war from thwarting motions grew; Till they to number and fixt rules were brought.
Water and air he for the tenor chose; Earth made the base; the treble, flame arose. COWLEY.
The tears of lovers are always of great poetical account; but Donne has extended them into worlds. If the lines are not easily understood, they may be read again:
On a round ball A workman, that hath copies by, can lay An Europe, Afric, and an Asia, And quickly make that, which was nothing, all.
So doth each tear, Which thee doth wear, A globe, yea world, by that impression grow, Till thy tears mixt with mine do overflow This world, by waters sent from thee my heaven dissolved so.
On reading the following lines, the reader may, perhaps, cry out, ”Confusion worse confounded:”
Here lies a she-sun, and a he-moon here, She gives the best light to his sphere, Or each is both, and all, and so They unto one another nothing owe. DONNE.
Who but Donne would have thought that a good man is a telescope?
Though G.o.d be our true gla.s.s, through which we see All, since the being of all things is he, Yet are the trunks, which do to us derive Things in proportion fit, by perspective Deeds of good men; for by their living here, Virtues, indeed remote, seem to be near.
Who would imagine it possible, that in a very few lines so many remote ideas could be brought together?
Since 'tis my doom, love's undershrieve, Why this reprieve?
Why doth my she-advowson fly Inc.u.mbency?
To sell thyself dost thou intend By candle's end, And hold the contrast thus in doubt, Life's taper out?
Think but how soon the market fails, Your s.e.x lives faster than the males; And if, to measure age's span, The sober Julian were th' account of man, Whilst you live by the fleet Gregorian. CLEIVELAND.
Of enormous and disgusting hyperboles, these may be examples:
By every wind that comes this way, Send me, at least, a sigh or two, Such and so many I'll repay As shall themselves make winds to get to you. COWLEY.
In tears I'll waste these eyes, By love so vainly fed; So l.u.s.t of old the deluge punished. COWLEY.
All arm'd in bra.s.s, the richest dress of war, (A dismal glorious sight!) he shone afar.
The sun himself started with sudden fright, To see his beams return so dismal bright. COWLEY.
An universal consternation:
His b.l.o.o.d.y eyes he hurls round, his sharp paws Tear up the ground; then runs he wild about, Las.h.i.+ng his angry tail, and roaring out.
Beasts creep into their dens, and tremble there; Trees, though no wind is stirring, shake with fear; Silence and horror fill the place around; Echo itself dares scarce repeat the sound. COWLEY.
Their fictions were often violent and unnatural.
Of his mistress bathing:
The fish around her crowded, as they do To the false light that treacherous fishers shew, And all with as much ease might taken be, As she at first took me; For ne'er did light so clear Among the waves appear, Though every night the sun himself set there. COWLEY.
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