Holy Sonnet 9
If poisonous minerals, and if that tree
Whose fruit through death on else immortal us,
If lecherous goats, if serpents envious,
Cannot be damned, alas, why should I be?
Why should intent or reason, born in me,
Make sins, else equal, in me more heinous?
And mercy being easy and glorious
To God, in his stern wrath, why threatens he?
But who am I that dare dispute with thee?
O God, O! of thine only worthy blood
And my tears, make a heavenly Lethean flood
And drown in it my sins’ black memory.
That thou remember them, some claim as debt;
I think it mercy if thou wilt forget.
John Donne
Categories: poetry · theology
The Altar
George Herbert
A broken ALTAR, Lord thy servant rears,
Made of a heart, and cemented with teares:
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workmans tool hath touch’d the same
A HEART alone
Is such a stone,
As nothing but
Thy pow’r doth cut.
Wherefore each part
Of my hard heart
Meets in this frame,
To praise thy Name:
That if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
O let thy blessed SACRIFICE be mine,
And sanctifie this ALTAR to be thine.
Categories: de verite · poetry · theology
Holy Sonnet 1
John Donne
Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste;
I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday.
I dare not move my dim eyes any way,
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh.
Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee
By Thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me
That not one hour myself I can sustain.
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And Thou like adamant draw mine iron heart.
Categories: poetry · theology
The Fair Singer
Andrew Marvell
To make a final conquest of all me,
Love did compose so sweet an enemy,
In whom both beauties to my death agree,
Joining themselves in fatal harmony;
That while she with her eyes my heart does bind,
She with her voice might captivate my mind.
I could have fled from one but singly fair,
My disentangled soul itself might save,
Breaking the curled trammels of her hair.
But how should I avoid to be her slave,
Whose subtle art invisibly can wreath
My fetters of the very air I breathe?
It had been easy fighting in some plain,
Where victory might hang in equal choice,
But all resistance against her is vain,
Who has th’ advantage both of eyes and voice,
And all my forces needs must be undone,
She having gained both the wind and sun.
Categories: poetry
Tagged: andrew, marvell, metaphysical, poetry
THE DAWNING
AWAKE, sad heart, whom sorrow ever drowns ;
Take up thine eyes, which feed on earth ;
Unfold thy forehead, gathered into frowns ;
Thy Saviour comes, and with Him mirth :
Awake, awake,
And with a thankful heart His comforts take.
But thou dost still lament, and pine, and cry,
And feel His death, but not His victory.
Arise, sad heart ; if thou dost not withstand,
Christ’s resurrection thine may be ;
Do not by hanging down break from the hand
Which, as it riseth, raiseth thee :
Arise, Arise;
And with His burial linen drie thine eyes.
Christ left His grave-clothes, that we might, when grief
Draws tears or blood, not want a handkerchief.
George Herbert
Categories: poetry
Tagged: george herbert metaphysical poetry dawning awake resurr
The Dying Christian To His Soul
Vital spark of heav’nly flame!
Quit, O quit, this mortal frame:
Trembling, hoping, ling’ring, flying,
O the pain, the bliss of dying!
Cease, fond Nature, cease thy strife,
And let me languish into life.
Hark! they whisper; angels say,
Sister Spirit, come away!
What is this absorbs me quite?
Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
The world recedes; it disappears!
Heav’n opens on my eyes! My ears
With sounds seraphic ring!
Lend your wings! I mount, I fly!
O Grave! where is thy victory?
O Death! where is thy sting?
Alexander Pope
Categories: poetry
Tagged: alexander, christian, death, dying, grave, metaphysical, poetry, pope, soul, spirit, sting, victory
I have received a lot of flak from friends recently about the intermittency of my blog posts. In this digital-print-rich world, frequency is as important as volume and clarity, and I have been neglecting my blog at my own peril. Over the last two weeks, my blog has averaged two hits a day. Boy, if I cared about stats, that would be a real blow to my ego.
Anyway…I thought of an interesting series of posts for the next couple of weeks. I’ve always been a big fan of metaphysical poetry–that is, poetry that conveys spiritual and supernatural truths and insights. But I’ve noticed that many of the poems I take as the most fascinating are
- Not known by literary hacks (like me) because most of them think “metaphysical” means superstitious, and
- Not known by many of my Christian friends because most of them aren’t literary hacks (like me) and have seen little reason to investigate the history of poetics.
So. I’m going to start posting some of my favorites. I’ll post one every day or two, or maybe week, for as long as I can sustain such a thing…I’ll invite comments on each of the poems and then, in typical Schmidt-classroom style, pronounce my authoritative (ha! as if) interpretation after everyone has had her/his say.
I’m going to post the first poem tomorrow night, after (perhaps) some of my old audience have seen a flag on their RSS feeds that says schmidtty is posting again. I hope at least one of the five people who read this blog will encounter at least one new poem to add to her/his favorites…one person, one poem–that’s what I live for.
Cheers, everyone.
Categories: Uncategorized
One: my wife and I are okay; Hurricane Ike did not damage our home, and we had power back as early as Tuesday night. We are very blessed.
Two: a short, revealing, readable, popular-level analysis and fact-check of McCain/Palin’s claims about Barack Obama is right here. (It’s especially revealing about Palin’s claim that Obama never authored any major legislation at either the state or the national level. Amazing what she can get away with saying.)
Three: Tina Fey has achieved a new level of hilarity in her portrayal of our ill-fated future would-be Vice President:
Categories: news
Tagged: barack obama, john mccain, sarah palin, tina fey
