This twilight of two years, not past nor next, DONNE. Yet more abstruse and profound is Donne's reflection upon man as a microcosm: If men be worlds, there is in every one Of thoughts so far-fetched, as to be not only unexpected, but unnatural, all their books are full, To a lady, who wrote poesies for rings : They, who above do various circles find, For it wanteth one as yet, COWLEY. The difficulties which have been raised about identity in philosophy, are by Cowley, with still more perplexity, applied to Love : Five years ago (says story) I lov'd you, Must of all things most strangely inconstant prove, From whence these take their birth, which now are here. 'Twere incest, which by nature is forbid. The love of different women is, in geographical poetry, compared to travels through different countries : Hast thou not found each woman's breast Or wild, and uninhabited? Lust, the scorching dog-star, here The soil's all barren sand, or rocky stone. COWLEY. A lover, burnt up by his affection, is compared to Egypt: The fate of Egypt I sustain, And never feel the due of rain From clouds which in the head appear; But all my too-much moisture owe COWLEY. The lover supposes his lady acquainted with the ancient laws of augury and rites of sacrifice : And yet this death of mine, I fear, When sound in every other part, 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; 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. 10. Here lies a she sun, and a he moon hère, 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 God be our true glass through which we see 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 doth my she advowson fly To sell thyself dost thou intend And hold the contrast thus in doubt, Think but how soon the market fails, And if to measure age's span, The jober 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 lust of old the deluge punished. COWLEY. All arm'd in brass, the richest dress of war, COWLEY. An universal consternation : COWLEY. Their fictions were often violent and unnatural. Of his mistress bathing. The fish around her crowded, as they do 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. The poetical effect of a lover's name upon glass : My name engrav'd herein Doth contribute my firmness to this glass; As hard as that which grav'd it was. DONNE. |