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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419759" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Satire III</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Kind pity chokes my spleen; brave scorn forbids<br> Those tears to issue which swell my eyelids;<br> I must not laugh, nor weep sins and be wise;<br> Can railing, then, cure these worn maladies?<br> Is not our mistress, fair Religion,<br> As worthy of all our souls' devotion<br> As virtue was in the first blinded age?<br> Are not heaven's joys as valiant to assuage<br> Lusts, as earth's honour was to them? Alas,<br> As we do them in means, shall they surpass<br> Us in the end? and shall thy father's spirit<br> Meet blind philosophers in heaven, whose merit<br> Of strict life may be imputed faith, and hear<br> Thee, whom he taught so easy ways and near<br> To follow, damn'd? Oh, if thou dar'st, fear this;<br> This fear great courage and high valour is.<br> Dar'st thou aid mutinous Dutch, and dar'st thou lay<br> Thee in ships' wooden sepulchres, a prey<br> To leaders' rage, to storms, to shot, to dearth?<br> Dar'st thou dive seas, and dungeons of the earth?<br> Hast thou courageous fire to thaw the ice<br> Of frozen North discoveries? and thrice<br> Colder than salamanders, like divine<br> Children in th' oven, fires of Spain and the Line,<br> Whose countries limbecs to our bodies be,<br> Canst thou for gain bear? and must every he<br> Which cries not, 'Goddess,' to thy mistress, draw<br> Or eat thy poisonous words? Courage of straw!<br> O desperate coward, wilt thou seem bold, and<br> To thy foes and his, who made thee to stand<br> Sentinel in his world's garrison, thus yield,<br> And for forbidden wars leave th' appointed field?<br> Know thy foes: the foul devil, whom thou<br> Strivest to please, for hate, not love, would allow<br> Thee fain his whole realm to be quit; and as<br> The world's all parts wither away and pass,<br> So the world's self, thy other lov'd foe, is<br> In her decrepit wane, and thou loving this,<br> Dost love a wither'd and worn strumpet; last,<br> Flesh (itself's death) and joys which flesh can taste,<br> Thou lovest, and thy fair goodly soul, which doth<br> Give this flesh power to taste joy, thou dost loathe.<br> Seek true religion. O where? Mirreus,<br> Thinking her unhous'd here, and fled from us,<br> Seeks her at Rome; there, because he doth know<br> That she was there a thousand years ago,<br> He loves her rags so, as we here obey<br> The statecloth where the prince sate yesterday.<br> Crantz to such brave loves will not be enthrall'd,<br> But loves her only, who at Geneva is call'd<br> Religion, plain, simple, sullen, young,<br> Contemptuous, yet unhandsome; as among<br> Lecherous humours, there is one that judges<br> No wenches wholesome, but coarse country drudges.<br> Graius stays still at home here, and because<br> Some preachers, vile ambitious bawds, and laws,<br> Still new like fashions, bid him think that she<br> Which dwells with us is only perfect, he<br> Embraceth her whom his godfathers will<br> Tender to him, being tender, as wards still<br> Take such wives as their guardians offer, or<br> Pay values. Careless Phrygius doth abhor<br> All, because all cannot be good, as one<br> Knowing some women whores, dares marry none.<br> Graccus loves all as one, and thinks that so<br> As women do in divers countries go<br> In divers habits, yet are still one kind,<br> So doth, so is Religion; and this blind-<br> ness too much light breeds; but unmoved, thou<br> Of force must one, and forc'd, but one allow,<br> And the right; ask thy father which is she,<br> Let him ask his; though truth and falsehood be<br> Near twins, yet truth a little elder is;<br> Be busy to seek her; believe me this,<br> He's not of none, nor worst, that seeks the best.<br> To adore, or scorn an image, or protest,<br> May all be bad; doubt wisely; in strange way<br> To stand inquiring right, is not to stray;<br> To sleep, or run wrong, is. On a huge hill,<br> Cragged and steep, Truth stands, and he that will<br> Reach her, about must and about must go,<br> And what the hill's suddenness resists, win so.<br> Yet strive so that before age, death's twilight,<br> Thy soul rest, for none can work in that night.<br> To will implies delay, therefore now do;<br> Hard deeds, the body's pains; hard knowledge too<br> The mind's endeavours reach, and mysteries<br> Are like the sun, dazzling, yet plain to all eyes.<br> Keep the truth which thou hast found; men do not stand<br> In so ill case, that God hath with his hand<br> Sign'd kings' blank charters to kill whom they hate;<br> Nor are they vicars, but hangmen to fate.<br> Fool and wretch, wilt thou let thy soul be tied<br> To man's laws, by which she shall not be tried<br> At the last day? Oh, will it then boot thee<br> To say a Philip, or a Gregory,<br> A Harry, or a Martin, taught thee this?<br> Is not this excuse for mere contraries<br> Equally strong? Cannot both sides say so?<br> That thou mayest rightly obey power, her bounds know;<br> Those past, her nature and name is chang'd; to be<br> Then humble to her is idolatry.<br> As streams are, power is; those blest flowers that dwell<br> At the rough stream's calm head, thrive and do well,<br> But having left their roots, and themselves given<br> To the stream's tyrannous rage, alas, are driven<br> Through mills, and rocks, and woods, and at last, almost<br> Consum'd in going, in the sea are lost.<br> So perish souls, which more choose men's unjust<br> Power from God claim'd, than God himself to trust.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Donne">John Donne</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419759" data-title="Satire III de John Donne" data-description="Kind pity chokes my spleen; brave scorn forbids
 Those tears to issue which swell my eyelids;
 I must not laugh, nor weep sins and be wise;
 Can railing, then, cure these worn maladies?
 Is not our mistress, fair Religion,
 As worthy of all our so..."></div>
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