
Love's Deity
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost,
Who died before the god of love was born.
I cannot think that he, who then loved most,
Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn.
But since this god produced a destiny,
And that vice-nature, custom, lets it be,
I must love her that loves not me.
Sure, they which made him god, meant not so much,
Nor he in his young godhead practised it.
But when an even flame two hearts did touch,
His office was indulgently to fit
Actives to passives. Correspondency
Only his subject was ; it cannot be
Love, till I love her, who loves me.
But every modern god will now extend
His vast prerogative as far as Jove.
To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend,
All is the purlieu of the god of love.
O ! were we waken'd by this tyranny
To ungod this child again, it could not be
I should love her, who loves not me.
Rebel and atheist too, why murmur I,
As though I felt the worst that love could do?
Love might make me leave loving, or might try
A deeper plague, to make her love me too ;
Which, since she loves before, I'm loth to see.
Falsehood is worse than hate ; and that must be,
If she whom I love, should love me.
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost,
Who died before the god of love was born.
I cannot think that he, who then loved most,
Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn.
But since this god produced a destiny,
And that vice-nature, custom, lets it be,
I must love her that loves not me.
Sure, they which made him god, meant not so much,
Nor he in his young godhead practised it.
But when an even flame two hearts did touch,
His office was indulgently to fit
Actives to passives. Correspondency
Only his subject was ; it cannot be
Love, till I love her, who loves me.
But every modern god will now extend
His vast prerogative as far as Jove.
To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend,
All is the purlieu of the god of love.
O ! were we waken'd by this tyranny
To ungod this child again, it could not be
I should love her, who loves not me.
Rebel and atheist too, why murmur I,
As though I felt the worst that love could do?
Love might make me leave loving, or might try
A deeper plague, to make her love me too ;
Which, since she loves before, I'm loth to see.
Falsehood is worse than hate ; and that must be,
If she whom I love, should love me.
This is a poem by John Donne that I had to analyze for my literature class. It is about a man who has fallen in love with a woman who will never love him, so he curses Cupid for failing to do his job and making the woman love him. But as the poem progresses he comes to the realization that his perspective of the situation is much smaller than Cupid. This poem is about divine perspective versus earthly perspective. Basically the point of this poem is that what may seem as something bad to us, is just part of a whole bigger plan that God has for us. There are many people in the world who are going through some difficult times and feel as though God has abandoned them. But in hard situations one should remain faithful because hard times are always accompanied by good times as well. God has a plan for everyone and it will involve difficult times but in the end we will receive happiness.
5 comments:
FIRST COMMENTERR!!!=]
i love the poem
eventhough i didn't really read it, YET
Wow ... what a deep insight …. It is such a joy to meet you here again out side of class … you looks a lot taller and bigger here … Thank you for sharing …. .
What's this remind me of?
I like this poem. hehe.
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