This poem is in the public domain. The Baite Come live with mee, and bee my love, And wee will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and christall brookes, With silken lines, and silver hookes. There will the river whispering runne Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the Sunne.
And there the'inamor'd fish will stay, Begging themselves they may betray. When thou wilt swimme in that live bath, Each fish, which every channell hath, Will amorously to thee swimme, Gladder to catch thee, than thou him. If thou, to be so seene, beest loath, By Sunne, or Moone, thou darknest both, And if my selfe have leave to see, I need not their light, having thee. Let others freeze with angling reeds, And cut their legges, with shells and weeds, Or treacherously poore fish beset, With strangling snare, or windowie net: Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest The bedded fish in banks out-wrest, Or curious traitors, sleavesilke flies Bewitch poore fishes wandring eyes.
For thee, thou needst no such deceit, For thou thy selfe art thine owne bait; That fish, that is not catch'd thereby, Alas, is wiser farre than I.
John Donne Air and Angels Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name; So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be; Still when, to where thou wert, I came, Some lovely glorious nothing I did see, But since my soul, whose child love is, Takes limbs of flesh, and else could nothing do, More subtle than the parent is Love must not be, but take a body too, And therefore what thou wert, and who I bid love ask, and now That it assume thy body, I allow, And fix itself in thy lip, eye, and brow.
Whilst thus to ballast love, I thought, And so more steadily to have gone, With wares which would sink admiration, I saw, I had love's pinnace overfraught, Every thy hair for love to work upon Is much too much, some fitter must be sought; For, nor in nothing, nor in things Extreme, and scatt'ring bright, can love inhere; Then as an angel, face and wings Of air, not pure as it, yet pure doth wear, So thy love may be my love's sphere; Just such disparity As is 'twixt air and angels' purity, 'Twixt women's love, and men's will ever be.
At the round earth's imagined corners Holy Sonnet 7 At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go, All whom the flood did, and fire shall, o'erthrow, All whom war, dearth, age, agues, 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. This explains Donne's cry of victory at the end of the poem and the prediction of Death's demise. From the moment that Jesus was resurrected from the dead, he defeated the grave rendering death powerless. Even though people die, Donne wants his readers to know that has killed them; it was just God calling them home.
He wants his readers to feel at peace with the concept of death because in his eyes, it is a reason for rejoicing instead of an occasion for sorrow. In other analysis' , critifcs view this as a call for us to defeat death, which is impossible by biblical standards. They use Donne's previous sermons and work off of them.
For example, in one of his sermons Donne leans off of the following verse from Job "Man is born into trouble. He translates it "Man is born into labor" Reeder He's saying that from the moment humans are born, they have work that needs to be done both in the spiritual sense and the worldly sense. Likewise, from the moment we are born things are expected of us and it only grows as we progress in life and take on more responsibilities in work, church, and family.
The critics surmise that through Donne, God is saying from the moment we are born He has a plan for us and we are expected, or at least He hopes, that the person will make it their priority to follow His plan for us.
Because like a father he wants only the best for us in life and after death. When death kills our earthly bodies God sees that as a victory and He rejoices because death is at His beck and call. Basically, Donne tells the audience that Death is not as mighty as we would like to believe. In fact, death is weak and he will not triumph in the end of all days nor does he triumph in the days of men. Other critics choose to focus on the whole of Donne's poetry, not just this one.
Christopher D'Addario explains, "Numerous critics have noted in Donne's lyrics an intense focus on the moment" D'Addario They say that Donne basically just explodes the moment or phrase and that is why he is so great. Although, some English professors might disagree. They might say that Donne is famous because of the way he sees the world and because of the way he refused to believe that he was left to fend for himself on this earth.
In every single one of his Holy poems, Donne teaches the scripture through parable and personal experience; this one is no exception.
He clearly states Death's defeat and attributes the victory to God. In the poem he say "Why swellest thou then? Basically, Donne is saying why should death be proud? He claims credit for something that is not his doing. He simply puts us into a deep slumber until we wake up in heaven and live forever from there on. Then after the time of tribulation is at an end and all of God's people are gathered up in the rapture, God vanquishes him forevermore because He will have no need for him.
There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. All of the things that hurt us, will vanquish once we reach heaven and this includes death. This poem, not unlike Donne's other poems, is known for its almost satirical nature. Patel states this wonderfully. The secondary grouping of six lines will act as response. The speaker presses the idea of the reversal of power, with those in a position of strength, the humans, indulging in pity of death, which is weak.
Death serves as merely one small part of a general plan of transitory earthly existence and attends humans only when circumstances determine. Donne chides death as if he were a child, asking why he would swell with pride over power not exclusively his own. As Donne, he chose to believe that death proved only a beginning of life beyond that experienced by mortal humans.
John Donne: The Divine Poems. Oxford: Clarendon Press, Lancashire, Ian. The Department of English, University of Toronto.
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