Why doth the devil then usurp on me?

Why doth he steal, nay, ravish, that's thy right? 10 Except thou rise, and for thine own work fight,

[me,

Oh! I shall soon despair, when I shall see
That thou lov'st mankind well, yet wilt not choose
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.

111.

OH! might these sighs and tears return again Into my breast and eyes which I have spent,

That I might, in this holy discontent,

Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourn'd in vain?

In mine idolatry what show'rs of rain

14

Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent? That suffrance was my sin I now repent;

'Cause I did suffer, I must suffer pain.

Th' hydroptic drunkard, and night-scouting thief,
The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud,

Have th' remembrance of past joys for relief
Of coming ills. To (poor) me is allow'd
No ease, for long yet vehement grief hath been
Th' effect and cause, the punishment and sin.

IV.

On my black soul! now thou art summoned By Sickness, Death's herald and champion, Thou 'rt like a pilgrim which abroad hath done

10

14

Treason, and durst not turn to whence he is fled;
Or like a thief, which, till death's doom be read,
Wisheth himself delivered from prison;
But damn'd, and hawl'd to execution,
Wisheth that still he might b' imprisoned:
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack;
But who shall give thee that grace to begin?
Oh! make thyself with holy mourning black,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
Or wash thee in Christ's blood, which hath this might,
That, being red, it dyes red souls to white.

10

14

V.

I AM a little world, made cunningly Of elements and an angelic spright;

But black sin hath betray'd to endless night

My world's both parts, and (oh!) both parts must die.
You, which beyond that heav'n, which was most high,
Have found new spheres, and of new land can write,
Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might
Drown my world with my weeping earnestly,
Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more:
But, oh! it must be burnt: alas! the fire
Of lust and envy burnt it heretofore,
And made it fouler: let their flames retire,
And burn me, O Lord! with a fiery zeal
Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heal. 14
Ilume 1.

10

VI.

THIS is my play's last scene; here Heavens appoint My pilgrimage's last smile; and my race,

Idly yet quickly run, hath this last pace,
My span's last inch, my minute's latest point,
And gluttonous Death will instantly unjoint
My body and soul, and I shall sleep a space :
But my' ever-waking part shall see that face
Whose fear already shakes my every joint.
Then as my soul to heav'n, her first seat, takes flight,
And earth-born body in the earth shall dwell,

So fall my sins, that all may have their right,
To where they 're bred, and would press me to hell.
Impute me righteous; thus purg'd of evil,

For thus I leave the world, the flesh, the devil.

VII.

10

14

Ar the round earth's imagin'd corners blow Your trumpets, Angels! and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go, All whom th' flood did, and fire shall, overthrow; All whom war, death, age, ague's tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain; and you whose eyes Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe. But let them sleep, Lord! and me mourn a space; For if above all these my sins abound, 'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace

When we are there. Here on this holy ground

Teach me how to repent, for that's as good

As if thou hadst seal'd my pardon with thy blood.

VIII.

Ir faithful souls be alike glorify'd

As angels, then my father's soul doth see,

And adds this ev'n to full felicity,

That valiantly I hell's wide mouth o'erstride;

But if our minds to these souls be descry'd
By circumstances and by signs that be

Apparent in us not immediately,

14

How shall my mind's white truth by them be try'd?

They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn,

And stile blasphemous conjurers to call

On Jesus' name, and Pharisaical

Dissemblers feign devotion.. Then turn,
O pensive Soul! to God, for he knows best
Thy grief, for he put it into my breast.

IX.

Ir poisonous minerals, and if that tree

Whose fruit threw death on (else immortal) us;
If lecherous goats, if serpents envious,
Cannot be damn'd, alas! why should I be?
Why should intent or reason, born in me,
Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous ?
And mercy being easy and glorious

Donne.]

O ij

To God, in his stern wrath why threatens he?
But who am I that dare dispute with thee!
O God! oh! of thine only worthy blood,
And my tears, make a heav'nly Lethean flood,
And drown in it my sin's black memory:
That thou remember them some claim as debt,
I think it mercy if thou wilt forget.

X.

DEATH! be not proud, tho' some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;

10

34

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death! nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy picture be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;
And soonest qur best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

10

[men, Thou'rt slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate And dost with poison, war, and sickness, dwell, And poppy' or charms can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou, then? One short sleep past we wake, eternally;

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. 14

XI.

SPIT in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side,
Buffet and scoff, scourge and crucify me,
For I have sinn'd, and sinn'd, and only he
Who could do no iniquity hath dy'd,