by John Donne

(Posted December 19, 1997 ?&nbspIssue 22; archived January 12, 1998)

'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,
Lucy's, who scarce even seven hours herself unmasks;
         The sun is spent, and now his flasks
         Send forth light squibs, no constant rays;
               The world's whole sap is sunk; 
The general balm th'hydroptic earth hath drunk, 
Whither, as to the bed's-feet, life is shrunk, 
Dead and interred; yet all these seem to laugh, 
Compared with me, who am their epitaph.
Study me then, you who shall lovers be
At the next world, that is, at the next spring
:        For I am every dead thing,
        In whom love wrought new alchemy.
               For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness;
He ruined me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not.
All others, from all things, draw all that's good,
Life, soul, form, spirit, whence they being have;
        I, by love's limbeck, am the grave
        Of all that's nothing. Oft a flood
               Have we two wept, and so
Drowned the whole world, us two; oft did we grow
To be two chaoses, when we did show
Care to aught else; and often absences
Withdrew our souls, and made us carcasses.
But I am by her death (which word wrongs her)
Of the first nothing the elixir grown;
        Were I a man, that I were one
        I needs must know; I should prefer,
               If I were any beast,
Some ends, some means; yea plants, yea stones detest,
And love; all, all some properties invest;
If I an ordinary nothing were,
As shadow, 'a light and body must be here.
But I am none; nor will my Sun renew.
You lovers, for whose sake the lesser sun
        At this time to the Goat is run
        To fetch new lust, and give it you,
               Enjoy your summer all;
Since she enjoys her long night's festival,
Let me prepare towards her, and let me call
This hour her Vigil, and her Eve, since this
Both the year's, and the day's deep midnight is.

John Donne (1572-1631) was born in London. He attended both Oxford and Cambridge Universities, but received a degree from neither. In 1593, he renounced Roman Catholicism and became a member of the Anglican Church, in which he took orders in 1615. His careers in the meantime included naval service, law, and Parliament. Satires, his first collection of poems, is considered one of his most important works; other major works include Divine Poems; Biathanatos; and the Holy Sonnets.

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