Donne by John Donne Page B

may
    Faire lawes white reverend name be strumpeted,
    To warrant thefts: she is established
    Recorder to Destiny, on earth, and shee
    Speakes Fates words, and but tells us who must bee
    Rich, who poore, who in chaires, who in jayles:
    Shee is all faire, but yet hath foule long nailes,
    With which she scracheth Suiters; In bodies
    Of men, so in law, nailes are th’extremities,
    So Officers stretch to more then Law can doe,
    As our nailes reach what no else part comes to.
    Why barest thou to yon Officer? Foole, Hath hee
    Got those goods, for which erst men bared to thee?
    Foole, twice, thrice, thou hast bought wrong, and now hungerly
    Beg’st right; But that dole comes not till these dye.
    Thou had’st much, and lawes Urim and Thummim trie
    Thou wouldst for more; and for all hast paper
    Enough to cloath all the great Carricks Pepper.
    Sell that, and by that thou much more shalt leese,
    Then Haman, when he sold his Antiquities.
    O wretch that thy fortunes should moralize
    Esops fables, and make tales, prophesies.
    Thou art the swimming dog whom shadows cosened,
    And div’st, neare drowning, for what vanished.

LETTERS TO THE COUNTESS OF BEDFORD
REASON IS OUR SOULES LEFT HAND
    M ADAME ,
    Reason is our Soules left hand, Faith her right,
    By these wee reach divinity, that’s you;
    Their loves, who have the blessings of your light,
    Grew from their reason, mine from faire faith grew.
    But as, although a squint lefthandednesse
    Be’ungracious, yet we cannot want that hand,
    So would I, not to encrease, but to expresse
    My faith, as I beleeve, so understand.
    Therefore I study you first in your Saints,
    Those friends, whom your election glorifies,
    Then in your deeds, accesses, and restraints,
    And what you reade, and what your selfe devize.
    But soone, the reasons why you’are lov’d by all,
    Grow infinite, and so passe reasons reach,
    Then backe againe to’implicate faith I fall,
    And rest on what the Catholique voice doth teach;
    That you are good: and not one Heretique
    Denies it: if he did, yet you are so.
    For, rockes, which high top’d and deep rooted sticke,
    Waves wash, not undermine, nor overthrow.
    In every thing there naturally growes
    A
Balsamum
to keepe it fresh, and new,
    If’twere not injur’d by extrinsique blowes:
    Your birth and beauty are this Balme in you.
    But you of learning and religion,
    And vertue,’and such ingredients, have made
    A methridate, whose operation
    Keepes off, or cures what can be done or said.
    Yet, this is not your physicke, but your food,
    A dyet fit for you; for you are here
    The first good Angell, since the worlds frame stood,
    That ever did in womans shape appeare.
    Since you are then Gods masterpeece, and so
    His Factor for our loves; do as you doe,
    Make your returne home gracious; and bestow
    This life on that; so make one life of two.
        For so God helpe mee,’I would not misse you there
        For all the good which you can do me here.
YOU HAVE REFIN’D MEE
    M ADAME ,
    You have refin’d mee, and to worthyest things
    Vertue, Art, Beauty, Fortune, now I see
    Rarenesse, or use, not nature value brings;
    And such, as they are circumstanc’d, they bee.
        Two ills can ne’re perplexe us, sinne to’excuse;
        But of two good things, we may leave and chuse.
    Therefore at Court, which is not vertues clime,
    Where a transcendent height, (as, lownesse mee)
    Makes her not be, or not show: all my rime
    Your vertues challenge, which there rarest bee;
        For, as darke texts need notes: there some must bee
        To usher vertue, and say,
This is shee.
    So in the country’is beauty; to this place
    You are the season (Madame) you the day,
    ’Tis but a grave of spices, till your face
    Exhale them, and a thick close bud display.
        Widow’d and reclus’d else, her sweets she’enshrines
        As China, when the Sunne at Brasill dines.
    Out from your chariot, morning breaks at night,
    And falsifies both computations so;
    Since a new world doth