Donne by John Donne Page A

keepes all in awe;
    Jeasts like a licenc’d foole, commands like law.
    Tyr’d, now I leave this place, and but pleas’d so
    As men which from gaoles to’execution goe,
    Goe through the great chamber (why is it hung
    With the seaven deadly sinnes?) being among
    Those Askaparts, men big enough to throw
    Charing Crosse for a barre, men that doe know
    No token of worth, but Queenes man, and fine
    Living, barrells of beefe, flaggons of wine;
    I shooke like a spyed Spie; Preachers which are
    Seas of Wits and Arts, you can, then dare,
    Drowne the sinnes of this place, for, for mee
    Which am but a scarce brooke, it enough shall bee
    To wash the staines away; though I yet
    With
Macchabees
modestie, the knowne merit
    Of my worke lessen: yet some wise man shall,
    I hope, esteeme my writs Canonicall.
SATYRE V
    Thou shalt not laugh in this leafe, Muse, nor they
    Whom any pitty warmes; He which did lay
    Rules to make Courtiers, (hee being understood
    May make good Courtiers, but who Courtiers good?)
    Frees from the sting of jests all who in extreme
    Are wreched or wicked: of these two a theame
    Charity and liberty give me. What is hee
    Who Officers rage, and Suiters misery
    Can write, and jest? If all things be in all,
    As I thinke, since all, which were, are, and shall
    Bee, be made of the same elements:
    Each thing, each thing implyes or represents.
    Then man is a world; in which, Officers
    Are the vast ravishing seas; and Suiters,
    Springs; now full, now shallow, now drye; which, to
    That which drownes them, run: These selfe reasons do
    Prove the world a man, in which, officers
    Are the devouring stomacke, and Suiters
    The excrements, which they voyd; all men are dust;
    How much worse are Suiters, who to mens lust
    Are made preyes. O worse then dust, or wormes meat
    For they do eate you now, whose selves wormes shall eate.
    They are the mills which grinde you, yet you are
    The winde which drives them; and a wastfull warre
    Is fought against you, and you fight it; they
    Adulterate lawe, and you prepare their way
    Like wittals, th’issue your owne ruine is;
    Greatest and fairest Empresse, know you this?
    Alas, no more then Thames calme head doth know
    Whose meades her armes drowne, or whose corne o’rflow:
    You Sir, whose righteousness she loves, whom I
    By having leave to serve, am most richly
    For service paid, authorized, now beginne
    To know and weed out this enormous sinne.
    O Age of rusty iron! Some better wit
    Call it some worse name, if ought equall it;
    The iron Age
that
was, when justice was sold, now
    Injustice is sold dearer farre; allow
    All demands, fees, and duties; gamsters, anon
    The mony which you sweat, and sweare for, is gon
    Into other hands: So controverted lands
    Scape, like Angelica, the strivers hands.
    If Law be the Judges heart, and hee
    Have no heart to resist letter, or fee,
    Where wilt thou appeale? powre of the Courts below
    Flow from the first maine head, and these can throw
    Thee, if they sucke thee in, to misery,
    To fetters, halters; But if the injury
    Steele thee to dare complaine, Alas, thou goest
    Against the stream, when upwards: when thou art most
    Heavy and most faint; and in these labours they,
    ’Gainst whom thou should’st complaine, will in the way
    Become great seas, o’r which, when thou shalt bee
    Forc’d to make golden bridges, thou shalt see
    That all thy gold was drown’d in them before;
    All things follow their like, only who have may have more.
    Judges are Gods; he who made and said them so,
    Meant not that men should be forc’d to them to goe,
    By meanes of Angels; When supplications
    We send to God, to Dominations,
    Powers, Cherubins, and all heavens Courts, if wee
    Should pay fees as here, Daily bread would be
    Scarce to Kings; so ’tis. Would it not anger
    A Stoicke, a coward, yea a Martyr,
    To see a Pursivant come in, and call
    All his cloathes, Copes; Bookes, Primers; and all
    His Plate, Challices; and mistake them away,
    And aske a fee for comming? Oh, ne’r