Submitted by: Mallon Faircloth
My Donne library is terribly incomplete. I have only a few of the Holy Sonnets. I can suggest what is commonly called A Hymn by Donne which I think is most appropriate to the Lenten season. I believe it is more of a confession of sins and a prayer for forgiveness – sins from original sin to the multitude of those personally perpetrated. The poem has a very nice twist at the end.
By John Donne
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive those sins through which I run,
And do them still, though still I do deplore?
When thou has done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I won
Others to sin? and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou has done, thou has not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by thyself, that at my death thy Sun
Shall shine as it shines now, and heretofore;
And having done that, thou hast done,
I have no more.
Note the capitalization of the word Sun and Donne’s description of eternity.
Editor’s note: Donne’s poetry frequently plays off puns, rhyming, wit etc. An example is seen in the word Sun, which also refers to Son, and “thou has done” (Donne). Donne excelled at this kind of intellectual word play, but was also sincere in his religious beliefs.
Submitted by Dianne Armstrong
Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward
1Let mans Soule be a Spheare, and then, in this,
2The intelligence that moves, devotion is,
3And as the other Spheares, by being growne
4Subject to forraigne motion, lose their owne,
5And being by others hurried every day,
6Scarce in a yeare their naturall forme obey:
7Pleasure or businesse, so, our Soules admit
8For their first mover, and are whirld by it.
9Hence is’t, that I am carryed towards the West
10This day, when my Soules forme bends toward the East.
11There I should see a Sunne, by rising set,
12And by that setting endlesse day beget;
13But that Christ on this Crosse, did rise and fall,
14Sinne had eternally benighted all.
15Yet dare I’almost be glad, I do not see
16That spectacle of too much weight for mee.
17Who sees Gods face, that is selfe life, must dye;
18What a death were it then to see God dye?
19It made his owne Lieutenant Nature shrinke,
20It made his footstoole crack, and the Sunne winke.
21Could I behold those hands which span the Poles,
22And tune all spheares at once peirc’d with those holes?
23Could I behold that endlesse height which is
24Zenith to us, and our Antipodes,
25Humbled below us? or that blood which is
26The seat of all our Soules, if not of his,
27Made durt of dust, or that flesh which was worne
28By God, for his apparell, rag’d, and torne?
29If on these things I durst not looke, durst I
30Upon his miserable mother cast mine eye,
31Who was Gods partner here, and furnish’d thus
32Halfe of that Sacrifice, which ransom’d us?
33Though these things, as I ride, be from mine eye,
34They’are present yet unto my memory,
35For that looks towards them; and thou look’st towards mee,
36O Saviour, as thou hang’st upon the tree;
37I turne my backe to thee, but to receive
38Corrections, till thy mercies bid thee leave.
39O thinke mee worth thine anger, punish mee,
40Burne off my rusts, and my deformity,
41Restore thine Image, so much, by thy grace,
42That thou may’st know mee, and I’ll turne my face.
1] Good Friday: the Friday before Easter Sunday, a moveable feast in the Christian church commemorating Christ’s death on the cross. In 1613, Good Friday was on April 2 (Handbook of Dates for Students of English History, ed. C. R. Cheney [London: Royal Historical Society, 1970).
Each planet or sphere was thought to hold an angelic intelligence by which it moved in a perfect motion, a circle, in worship of God, but because planetary orbits took an elliptical form, they failed to obey this “natural form.” Astronomers tried to save appearances by proposing that the fixed stars (the planets) moved in complicated circular motions as they orbited. Apparent irregularities were explained as eccentric circles within circles.
8] first mover: primum mobile, the tenth sphere beyondthe nine planets that communicated the circular motion to them; also a term for God, the source of all perfection. whirl’d: possibly punning on “world.”
11] a Sunne: Christ, son of God, died or “set” by rising on the cross.
14] benighted: put into darkness; also perhaps quibbling on “be-knighted,” that is, made a knight by the lifting and letting fall of a sword on the shoulders of a squire.
17] God warned Moses that no man could see His face and live (Exodus 33.20). In 1 Corinthians 13:12, the Paul describes the end of the world: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall understand fully, even as I have been fully understood.”
19] Lieutenant: chief ruler and law-giver, deputized by a higher authority to control a region.
20] The earth, God’s “footstoole,” suffered an earthquake, and the sun endured an eclipse, at Christ’s death on the cross.
21] Donne alludes to the prophecy of Zechariah: “And I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of compassion and supplication, so that, when they look on him whom they have pierced, they shall mourn for him, as one mourns for an only child, and weep bitterly over him, as one weeps over a new-born” (12:10). At John 19:34-37, Christ’s crucifixion is said to fulfil this prophecy: “But one of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water…. For these things took place that the scripture might be fulfilled…. And again another scripture says, `They shall look on him whom they have pierced.'” See A. B. Chambers, “`Goodfriday, 1613. Riding Westward’: Looking Back,” John Donne Journal 6.2 (1987): 185-201.
22] tune: the music of the spheres was thought to be “tuned” by God. pierc’d: a past participle mainly modifying “those hands” (21), but placed ambiguously so that it might also characterize Donne himself (“I” at line 21) and the spheres just preceding it, both of whom would have suffered (been pierced) by the sight of Christ crucified. Donne uses the same effect in locating the past participle “ragg’d” later (28), where it applies equally to Christ’s flesh and apparell.
23] height: the elevation of a heavenly body above the horizon.
24] Zenith: the point directly vertical to anyone standing on the earth.
Antipodes: the point directly below the zenith on the other side of the earth.
25] that blood: when drinking the communion wine, Christians partake literally or figuratively of Christ’s blood, which redeems them from the power of hell and so provides their souls a “seat” in heaven. God’s blood serves no such purpose for himself.
30] miserable: pitiable.
36] tree: cross.
38] leave: leave off, stop (administering a whipping to the back).
41] God made man in his image (Genesis 1.27).
Commentary by Ian Lancashire
Born London in 1572 to a father who died when John was four and a mother who survived until three months before his death, John Donne was educated as a lawyer. This training with words made him an astounding Church of England preacher and a better poet. Donne may have studied at Cambridge before entering Thavies Inn in 1591 and Lincoln’s Inn a year later. After joining expeditions to Cadiz and the Azores in 1596-97, he entered the service of Sir Thomas Egerton, the Lord Keeper. Donne then threw away his promising career as a courtier by marrying Ann More secretly in December 1601, defying the will of her father, Sir George More. Jailed for this marriage the next year, dismissed by Egerton from his service, and excluded from court service, Donne spent most of his next dozen years struggling to support his wife and children. His English poems circulated in manuscript for all his life. One poem, “The Expiration,” was published in 1609, and a longer elegy, An Anatomy of the World, in 1611. After briefly serving as member of Parliament for Taunton in 1614, Donne was ordained as a priest at St. Paul’s Cathedral and appointed a royal chaplain the next year. He preached at court from 1616 to his death. Faithful Ann died August 15, 1617, in childbed again, this time a stillbirth. Donne became Dean of St Paul’s Cathedral in 1621 and England’s most cherished court preacher. He died March 31, 1631, and was buried in St Paul’s on April 3.
Labeled a “metaphysical” poet for his strange extended comparisons, Donne’s poetry spanned his entire life and passions. Everything he did, from sexual libertinism to religious fervour, found expression in his verse. Often Donne portrayed himself in the middle of great opposites, the love of life, and despair that it was prescribed by God as a punishment.
Sometime on April 2, 1613, John Donne was riding from London westward to Exeter, evidently to Sir Edward Harbert in Wales. Early 17th-century England was almost uniformly Christian. The Church of England, led by James I, set aside Good Friday, the day of Christ’s crucifixion, to remember its saviour’s suffering and death. Christians withdrew from worldly affairs that day, just as they had abstained from meat during the period of Lent, which would end on Easter Sunday, two days later, when Christ’s resurrection was commemorated. By taking on human form, and by innocently dying a terrible death on the cross, God’s son was believed to have paid for the sins of all mankind and so to have released Adam and Eve, and their offspring through the ages, from God’s punishment, which was life itself after expulsion from Eden, lingering into death and eternal damnation in hell. By believing in Christ, his followers obtained salvation. As a sign of their redemption, they partook weekly of the Mass or communion, where the priest fed the faithful with bread and wine, symbolically Christ’s flesh and blood, shed on the friday that they, for that reason, called Good. Easter Friday church services poignantly recalled, through readings from the Old and New Testaments of the Bible, and in the act of communion itself, the agony and purpose of Christ’s death. It satisfied God’s justice by sacrificing his only begotten son in order to redeem his creation.
Donne’s brief title bespeaks, in itself, the poet’s shame and guilt for being on the road, instead of in church, on that particular Good Friday. He need not say more. To ride westward, in Donne’s times, implied a journey to Tyburn, in London’s western suburbs, where thieves and murderers were hanged publicly (OED, adv, 2). Going westward also meant seeking wealth in the new world, the Americas. Traditionally, because the sun set in the west, it was associated with dying. A poem with this title draws attention to itself.
In 21 couplets, Donne writes an apologia for the faithless act his title documents. He gives five arguments, first blaming fallen Nature generally (1-14). His riding, he says, follows the influence of the stars, which (from any observer’s perspective) move uniformly across the sky every night from east to west, from where Christ the Son of God took on humanity, from where he died on the cross at Golgotha near Jerusalem. Second, citing the Bible, Donne explains that looking on God, face to face, is death to any creature (15-28). He averts his eyes because he dares not look. Out of pity, third, Donne says he cannot bear to witness Christ’s mother Mary’s sufferings (29-32). Fourth, Donne affirms that he observes the sufferings of Christ and Mary in his mind’s eye, in “memory” (33-35), as he should. Last, he explains that, by turning his back on Christ, he also submits himself to deserved “Corrections” (35-40), to a scourging. The poem’s final couplet moves all responsibility to a God who, if he punished Donne as he should, would discover that he, unashamed, willingly turning his face to his creator.
W. H. Auden writes, in his “Under Which Lyre: A Reactionary Tract for the Times (Phi Beta Kappa Poem, Harvard, 1946),”
And nerves that steeled themselves to slaughter
Are shot to pieces by the shorter
Poems of Donne
amusing testimony to how hard a time post-World-War-II students had in interpreting poems like “Good Friday, 1613.”
Is Donne being serious in this poem? He evidently accounts himself a lame excuse-giver, a coward, and a masochist, but so cunningly does he argue, translating abstract thoughts into incongruous, complex image clusters, that readers are unsure how to take him. Donne’s figures of speech in “Good Friday, 1613,” create icons, themselves asking for thought.
They first compare human beings explicitly with entire worlds. Initially, a man’s soul is likened to a sphere, one of the nine planets that circle the earth in a Ptolemaic universe. The soul’s devotion, what it longs for, is thus the angelic spirit of that sphere, its so-called “intelligence.” Because the spheres emulate God’s perfection in this old world-view, they ought to take a circular, perfect orbit, but in fact their path is elliptical. Early astronomy explained such theoretically undesirable orbits as resulting from circular orbits within circular orbits, that is, from “eccentric” sub-orbits. These lead the sphere, not only to be tracked in positions inconsistent with the dominant circular orbit, but mean that the sphere seems to move alternately in both easterly and westerly directions (as it traverses the path of one of the sub-orbits within the orbit). Donne alludes to this when he says that, “subject to foreign motion,” they do not obey their “natural form” (4, 6). Secondly, God becomes like another sphere, the sun, which has an “endless height” (or elevation above the horizon). Word play and extended comparisons make the “sun” into the “son” (of God), ascending on the cross like the sunrise, and being taken down dead from it like a sunset, and having hands that span the north and south poles as if they were like the crossbeam of a crucifix.
Donne regularly subverts the logic of these images. By poem’s end, he transforms the man’s “Soul’s form,” the sphere, into a rusted metal “Image” of a “deformity,” a face that fire alone can restore to its God-like original. Donne also twists the other anthropomorphic metaphor. He makes the Sun not only Christ but a witness to Christ’s crucifixion: “It made … the Sun wink” (20). God as “endless height” and as Zenith, as well, becomes the Antipodes “below us,” “durt of dust”, and his flesh as torn clothes (23-28). Donne may even compare the cross to a sword that a lord uses to knight, or ennoble, one of his followers. Little wonder that Donne, in mid-day looking east, fails to see the sun (11-16). It and the human soul are various things, different things.
There are, however, reasons why Donne’s imagery, fusing thought and sensation, is difficult to grasp. His images are absent from him and his readers. He “should see” God as the sun (11) but does not (15, 23, 29, 33). The image of God in Donne’s face, likewise, is obscured with rust. Also, the faculty transforming these icons into language is “memory” (34), which both Donne and we know to be often uncontrollably associative. Donne is indeed “Riding Westward.” His apologia comes from a guilty creature who deserves God’s angry punishment and purification. His imagery, as well as his “Image,” is deformed and rusty. The poignant beauty of Donne’s self-analysis arises partly from its truthfulness, the way in which his poetic form and devices mirror its content. He shows how a guilty creature thinks.
By the final couplet, Donne’s imperfect icons give way to simplicity. The poet abandons his abstract, inconsistent spheric imagery for a plain, literal statement, adapted from the Bible: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him” (Genesis 1:27); and “Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old nature with its practices and have put on the new nature, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator” (Colossians 3:9-10). The only explanations of Donne’s behaviour are shame and fear. The sinful creature, from Adam and Eve through their descending generations, hides its face from its maker, ashamed of its deformity. Once redeemed by grace, Donne says, “I’ll turn my face.” Knowing what happens to a man when he sees God’s face, these are not just words.