A coal-pit has not often found its poet; but, that it may not want its due honour, Cleiveland has ralleled it with the Sun: The moderate value of our guiltless ore Had he our pits, the Persian would admire The sun's heaven's coalery, and coals our sun. Death, a Voyage: No family E'er rigged a soul for Heaven's discovery, pa DONNE. THEIR thoughts and expressions were sometimes grossly absurd, and such as no figures or licence can reconcile to the understanding. A Lover neither dead nor alive: Then down I laid my head Down on cold earth; and for a while was dead, And my freed soul to a strange somewhere fled; Ah, sottish soul, said I, When back to its cage again I saw it fly: And row her galley here again! Where it condemn'd and destin'd is to burn! Once dead, how can it be, Death should a thing so pleasant seem to thee, That thou should'st come to live it o'er again in me? A Lover's heart, a hand grenado: Wo to her stubborn heart, if once mine come "Twill tear and blow up all within, Like a grenado shot into a magazin. Then shall Love keep the ashes, and torn parts, Shall out of both one new one make: From her's th' allay, from mine the metal take. The poetical propagation of Light: The prince's favour is diffus'd o'er all, COWLEY. COWLEY. From which all fortunes, names, and natures fall: Then from those wombs of stars, the bride's bright eyes, At every glance a constellation flies, And sowes the court with stars, and doth prevent, First her eye kindles other ladies' eyes, Then from their beams their jewels' lustres rise: VOL. IX. D DONNE. THEY were in very little care to clothe their notions with elegance of dress, and therefore miss the notice and the praise which are often gained by those who think less, but are more diligent to adorn their thoughts. That a Mistress beloved is fairer in idea than in reality, is by Cowley thus expressed: Thou in my fancy dost much higher stand, That prayer and labour should co-operate, are thus taught by Donne: In none but us are such mix'd engines found, As hands of double office: for the ground We till with them; and them to heaven we raise: By the same author, a common topick, the danger of procrastination, is thus illustrated: That which I should have begun In my youth's morning, now late must be done; Which stray or sleep all day, and having lost All that man has to do is to live and die; the sum of humanity is comprehended by Donne in the following lines: Think in how poor a prison thou didst lie; Think, when 'twas grown to most, 'twas a poor inn, Think thy shell broke, think thy soul hatch'd but now. THEY were sometimes indelicate and disgusting. Cowley thus apostrophises beauty: Thou tyrant, which leav'st no man free! Thou subtle thief, from whom nought safe can be! Thou murderer, which hast kill'd; and devil, which would'st damn me! Thus he addresses his Mistress : Thou who, in many a propriety, So truly art the sun to me, Add one more likeness, which I'm sure you can, And let me and my sun beget a man. Thus he represents the meditations of a Lover: Though in thy thoughts scarce any tracts have been So much as of original sin, Such charms thy beauty wears, as might Desires in dying confest saints excite. Thou with strange adultery Dost in each breast a brothel keep; And some enjoy thee when they sleep. The true taste of Tears. Hither with crystal vials, lovers, come, For all are false, that taste not just like mine. DONNE. This is yet more indelicate : As the sweet sweat of roses in a still, As that which from chaf'd musk-cat's pores doth trill, Such are the sweet drops of my mistress' breast. DONNE. THEIR expressions sometimes raise horror, when they intend perhaps to be pathetick : As men in hell are from diseases free, Free from their known formality: COWLEY. They were not always strictly curious, whether the opinions from which they drew their illustrations were true; it was enough that they were popular. Bacon remarks, that some falsehoods are continued by tradition, because they supply commodious allusions. It gave a piteous groan, and so it broke: |