'An Anatomy Of The World...' by John Donne
AI and Tech Aggregator
Download Mp3s Free
Tears of the Kingdom Roleplay
Best Free University Courses Online
TOTK Roleplay
AN ANATOMY OF THE WORLD Wherein, by occasion of the untimely death of
Mistress Elizabeth Drury, the frailty and the decay of this whole world is
represented THE FIRST ANNIVERSARY
When that rich soul which to her heaven is gone,
Whom all do celebrate, who know they have one
(For who is sure he hath a soul, unless
It see, and judge, and follow worthiness,
And by deeds praise it? He who doth not this,
May lodge an inmate soul, but 'tis not his)
When that queen ended here her progress time,
And, as t'her standing house, to heaven did climb,
Where loath to make the saints attend her long,
She's now a part both of the choir, and song;
This world, in that great earthquake languished;
For in a common bath of tears it bled,
Which drew the strongest vital spirits out;
But succour'd then with a perplexed doubt,
Whether the world did lose, or gain in this,
(Because since now no other way there is,
But goodness, to see her, whom all would see,
All must endeavour to be good as she)
This great consumption to a fever turn'd,
And so the world had fits; it joy'd, it mourn'd;
And, as men think, that agues physic are,
And th' ague being spent, give over care,
So thou, sick world, mistak'st thy self to be
Well, when alas, thou'rt in a lethargy.
Her death did wound and tame thee then, and then
Thou might'st have better spar'd the sun, or man.
That wound was deep, but 'tis more misery
That thou hast lost thy sense and memory.
'Twas heavy then to hear thy voice of moan,
But this is worse, that thou art speechless grown.
Thou hast forgot thy name thou hadst; thou wast
Nothing but she, and her thou hast o'erpast.
For, as a child kept from the font until
A prince, expected long, come to fulfill
The ceremonies, thou unnam'd had'st laid,
Had not her coming, thee her palace made;
Her name defin'd thee, gave thee form, and frame,
And thou forget'st to celebrate thy name.
Some months she hath been dead (but being dead,
Measures of times are all determined)
But long she'ath been away, long, long, yet none
Offers to tell us who it is that's gone.
But as in states doubtful of future heirs,
When sickness without remedy impairs
The present prince, they're loath it should be said,
"The prince doth languish," or "The prince is dead;"
So mankind feeling now a general thaw,
A strong example gone, equal to law,
The cement which did faithfully compact
And glue all virtues, now resolv'd, and slack'd,
Thought it some blasphemy to say sh'was dead,
Or that our weakness was discovered
In that confession; therefore spoke no more
Than tongues, the soul being gone, the loss deplore.
But though it be too late to succour thee,
Sick world, yea dead, yea putrified, since she
Thy' intrinsic balm, and thy preservative,
Can never be renew'd, thou never live,
I (since no man can make thee live) will try,
What we may gain by thy anatomy.
Her death hath taught us dearly that thou art
Corrupt and mortal in thy purest part.
Let no man say, the world itself being dead,
'Tis labour lost to have discovered
The world's infirmities, since there is none
Alive to study this dissection;
For there's a kind of world remaining still,
Though she which did inanimate and fill
The world, be gone, yet in this last long night,
Her ghost doth walk; that is a glimmering light,
A faint weak love of virtue, and of good,
Reflects from her on them which understood
Her worth; and though she have shut in all day,
The twilight of her memory doth stay,
Which, from the carcass of the old world free,
Creates a new world, and new creatures be
Produc'd. The matter and the stuff of this,
Her virtue, and the form our practice is.
And though to be thus elemented, arm
These creatures from home-born intrinsic harm,
(For all assum'd unto this dignity
So many weedless paradises be,
Which of themselves produce no venomous sin,
Except some foreign serpent bring it in)
Yet, because outward storms the strongest break,
And strength itself by confidence grows weak,
This new world may be safer, being told
The dangers and diseases of the old;
For with due temper men do then forgo,
Or covet things, when they their true worth know.
There is no health; physicians say that we
At best enjoy but a neutrality.
And can there be worse sickness than to know
That we are never well, nor can be so?
We are born ruinous: poor mothers cry
That children come not right, nor orderly;
Except they headlong come and fall upon
An ominous precipitation.
How witty's ruin! how importunate
Upon mankind! It labour'd to frustrate
Even God's purpose; and made woman, sent
For man's relief, cause of his languishment.
They were to good ends, and they are so still,
But accessory, and principal in ill,
For that first marriage was our funeral;
One woman at one blow, then kill'd us all,
And singly, one by one, they kill us now.
We do delightfully our selves allow
To that consumption; and profusely blind,
We kill our selves to propagate our kind.
And yet we do not that; we are not men;
There is not now that mankind, which was then,
When as the sun and man did seem to strive,
(Joint tenants of the world) who should survive;
When stag, and raven, and the long-liv'd tree,
Compar'd with man, died in minority;
When, if a slow-pac'd star had stol'n away
From the observer's marking, he might stay
Two or three hundred years to see't again,
And then make up his observation plain;
When, as the age was long, the size was great
(Man's growth confess'd, and recompens'd the meat),
So spacious and large, that every soul
Did a fair kingdom, and large realm control;
And when the very stature, thus erect,
Did that soul a good way towards heaven direct.
Where is this mankind now? Who lives to age,
Fit to be made Methusalem his page?
Alas, we scarce live long enough to try
Whether a true-made clock run right, or lie.
Old grandsires talk of yesterday with sorrow,
And for our children we reserve tomorrow.
So short is life, that every peasant strives,
In a torn house, or field, to have three lives.
And as in lasting, so in length is man
Contracted to an inch, who was a span;
For had a man at first in forests stray'd,
Or shipwrack'd in the sea, one would have laid
A wager, that an elephant, or whale,
That met him, would not hastily assail
A thing so equall to him; now alas,
The fairies, and the pigmies well may pass
As credible; mankind decays so soon,
We'are scarce our fathers' shadows cast at noon,
Only death adds t'our length: nor are we grown
In stature to be men, till we are none.
But this were light, did our less volume hold
All the old text; or had we chang'd to gold
Their silver; or dispos'd into less glass
Spirits of virtue, which then scatter'd was.
But 'tis not so; w'are not retir'd, but damp'd;
And as our bodies, so our minds are cramp'd;
'Tis shrinking, not close weaving, that hath thus
In mind and body both bedwarfed us.
We seem ambitious, God's whole work t'undo;
Of nothing he made us, and we strive too,
To bring our selves to nothing back; and we
Do what we can, to do't so soon as he.
With new diseases on our selves we war,
And with new physic, a worse engine far.
Thus man, this world's vice-emperor, in whom
All faculties, all graces are at home
(And if in other creatures they appear,
They're but man's ministers and legates there
To work on their rebellions, and reduce
Them to civility, and to man's use);
This man, whom God did woo, and loath t'attend
Till man came up, did down to man descend,
This man, so great, that all that is, is his,
O what a trifle, and poor thing he is!
If man were anything, he's nothing now;
Help, or at least some time to waste, allow
T'his other wants, yet when he did depart
With her whom we lament, he lost his heart.
She, of whom th'ancients seem'd to prophesy,
When they call'd virtues by the name of she;
She in whom virtue was so much refin'd,
That for alloy unto so pure a mind
She took the weaker sex; she that could drive
The poisonous tincture, and the stain of Eve,
Out of her thoughts, and deeds, and purify
All, by a true religious alchemy,
She, she is dead; she's dead: when thou knowest this,
Thou knowest how poor a trifling thing man is,
And learn'st thus much by our anatomy,
The heart being perish'd, no part can be free,
And that except thou feed (not banquet) on
The supernatural food, religion,
Thy better growth grows withered, and scant;
Be more than man, or thou'rt less than an ant.
Then, as mankind, so is the world's whole frame
Quite out of joint, almost created lame,
For, before God had made up all the rest,
Corruption ent'red, and deprav'd the best;
It seiz'd the angels, and then first of all
The world did in her cradle take a fall,
And turn'd her brains, and took a general maim,
Wronging each joint of th'universal frame.
The noblest part, man, felt it first; and then
Both beasts and plants, curs'd in the curse of man.
So did the world from the first hour decay,
That evening was beginning of the day,
And now the springs and summers which we see,
Like sons of women after fifty be.
And new philosophy calls all in doubt,
The element of fire is quite put out,
The sun is lost, and th'earth, and no man's wit
Can well direct him where to look for it.
And freely men confess that this world's spent,
When in the planets and the firmament
They seek so many new; they see that this
Is crumbled out again to his atomies.
'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone,
All just supply, and all relation;
Prince, subject, father, son, are things forgot,
For every man alone thinks he hath got
To be a phoenix, and that then can be
None of that kind, of which he is, but he.
This is the world's condition now, and now
She that should all parts to reunion bow,
She that had all magnetic force alone,
To draw, and fasten sund'red parts in one;
She whom wise nature had invented then
When she observ'd that every sort of men
Did in their voyage in this world's sea stray,
And needed a new compass for their way;
She that was best and first original
Of all fair copies, and the general
Steward to fate; she whose rich eyes and breast
Gilt the West Indies, and perfum'd the East;
Whose having breath'd in this world, did bestow
Spice on those Isles, and bade them still smell so,
And that rich India which doth gold inter,
Is but as single money, coin'd from her;
She to whom this world must it self refer,
As suburbs or the microcosm of her,
She, she is dead; she's dead: when thou know'st this,
Thou know'st how lame a cripple this world is
....
Editor 1 Interpretation
Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World: A Poetic Voyage through Time and Space
John Donne's poetic masterpiece, "Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World," takes readers on a journey through time and space, exploring the complexities of the universe and the human condition. Written in the early 17th century, this poem is a striking example of the metaphysical poetry that was popularized during the period. Through its use of intricate metaphors, paradoxes and imagery, Donne explores the themes of mortality, love, and the human soul, invoking both religious and philosophical ideas to create a work that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally moving.
Background and Context
Before we dive into the poem and its themes, it is essential to understand the historical context in which it was written. John Donne was born in 1572 in London, England, during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I. He was raised in a Roman Catholic family, which was a significant challenge in a country that had officially adopted Protestantism. Donne was educated at Oxford University, where he studied both law and theology. He was a prominent figure in English literature, known for his poetry and his sermons, both of which were characterized by their intellectual depth and striking imagery.
Donne's poetry, which was primarily produced during the early 17th century, is known for its metaphysical style. This style was characterized by its use of intricate metaphors, paradoxes, and intellectual themes. The metaphysical poets were concerned with exploring the complexities of the universe and the human condition, often drawing on religious and philosophical ideas to do so. Donne was a central figure in this movement, and his poetry is considered some of the most significant works of the period.
Poem Analysis
"Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World" is a long and complex poem, consisting of four sections, each exploring different themes and ideas. The poem begins with a description of the world before the fall of man. Donne presents the universe as a perfect and harmonious place, where everything fits together flawlessly. He uses vivid imagery to describe the natural world, painting a picture of a world that is full of beauty and wonder.
However, as the poem progresses, Donne's tone changes. He begins to explore the fall of man and the resulting imperfections that have come into the world. He uses the metaphor of a body to describe the world and its various parts, highlighting the ways in which different elements come together to create a whole. He describes the earth as a "muddy vesture of decay," highlighting the way in which it has become corrupted and fallen from its original state.
Donne then moves on to explore the theme of mortality. He uses the metaphor of a clock to describe the passage of time, highlighting the way in which all things must come to an end. He reflects on the fleeting nature of life, and the inevitability of death, suggesting that even the most powerful and important people in the world must eventually succumb to it.
The final section of the poem is perhaps the most significant. Here, Donne explores the theme of love, using it to suggest that there is hope for redemption and salvation, even in a world that has been corrupted by sin. He uses the metaphor of a ship to describe the journey of the soul, suggesting that love can act as a guide, leading us towards the light.
Themes and Interpretations
"Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World" is a complex and multi-faceted poem, exploring a range of themes and ideas. Perhaps the most significant of these themes is the idea of mortality. Donne reflects on the fleeting nature of life, suggesting that all things must come to an end. He uses the metaphor of a clock to describe the passage of time, highlighting the way in which even the most powerful and important people in the world must ultimately succumb to death.
Another significant theme in the poem is that of love. Donne suggests that love can act as a guide, leading us towards the light, even in a world that has been corrupted by sin. He uses the metaphor of a ship to describe the journey of the soul, highlighting the importance of love as a guiding force.
The theme of the fall of man is also significant in the poem. Donne suggests that the world was once perfect and harmonious, but has become corrupted and fallen from its original state. He uses the metaphor of a body to describe the world and its various parts, highlighting the ways in which different elements come together to create a whole.
Literary Techniques
One of the most striking aspects of "Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World" is the use of intricate metaphors and imagery. Donne uses language in a way that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally moving, creating a work that is both intellectually challenging and emotionally engaging.
The metaphor of a clock, which is used to describe the passage of time, is particularly powerful. Donne uses this metaphor to highlight the fleeting nature of life, suggesting that even the most powerful and important people in the world must ultimately succumb to death.
Another powerful metaphor in the poem is that of a ship. Donne uses this metaphor to describe the journey of the soul, suggesting that love can act as a guide, leading us towards the light.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "Poetry, An Anatomy Of The World" is a remarkable work of poetry, exploring a range of themes and ideas in a way that is both intellectually stimulating and emotionally moving. Through its use of intricate metaphors, paradoxes, and imagery, Donne creates a work that is both intellectually challenging and emotionally engaging, inviting readers to explore the complexities of the universe and the human condition. While the poem was written over 400 years ago, its themes and ideas remain relevant today, making it a work that continues to resonate with readers.
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
John Donne’s “An Anatomy of the World” is a classic poem that delves into the themes of mortality, the nature of the universe, and the role of humanity in it. Written in the early 17th century, the poem is a reflection of the intellectual and philosophical currents of the time, as well as Donne’s own personal beliefs and experiences.
The poem is divided into two parts, each of which explores different aspects of the world and humanity’s place in it. The first part is a meditation on the nature of the universe, while the second part is a lament for the death of Elizabeth Drury, a young girl who was a friend of Donne’s.
In the first part of the poem, Donne uses the metaphor of the world as a body to explore the interconnectedness of all things. He describes the world as a “great creature” with various parts that are all necessary for its functioning. He compares the stars to the eyes of the world, the sun to its heart, and the oceans to its veins. This metaphorical language serves to emphasize the idea that everything in the world is interconnected and that each part has a role to play in the functioning of the whole.
Donne also explores the idea of mortality in this section of the poem. He describes the world as a “great dying” and emphasizes the transience of all things. He notes that even the stars, which seem eternal, will eventually die out. This emphasis on mortality serves to remind the reader of the impermanence of life and the importance of making the most of the time we have.
The second part of the poem is a lament for the death of Elizabeth Drury, a young girl who was a friend of Donne’s. In this section, Donne uses the metaphor of the world as a ship to explore the idea of death and the afterlife. He describes Elizabeth as a “little world made cunningly” and notes that she has now “sailed into the haven where she would be”. This metaphorical language serves to emphasize the idea that death is not an end, but rather a transition to a new state of being.
Donne also explores the idea of grief in this section of the poem. He notes that grief is a natural response to loss, but also emphasizes the importance of accepting death as a part of life. He notes that Elizabeth’s death is a reminder that “all things are but toys” and that we should not become too attached to the things of this world.
Overall, “An Anatomy of the World” is a complex and thought-provoking poem that explores a range of themes and ideas. Through his use of metaphorical language and his exploration of mortality, Donne encourages the reader to reflect on the nature of the universe and their place in it. The poem is a testament to Donne’s skill as a poet and his ability to capture the complexities of the human experience in his writing.
Editor Recommended Sites
Crypto Lending - Defi lending & Lending Accounting: Crypto lending options with the highest yield on altsLoading Screen Tips: Loading screen tips for developers, and AI engineers on your favorite frameworks, tools, LLM models, engines
Changelog - Dev Change Management & Dev Release management: Changelog best practice for developers
Multi Cloud Ops: Multi cloud operations, IAC, git ops, and CI/CD across clouds
Best Scifi Games - Highest Rated Scifi Games & Top Ranking Scifi Games: Find the best Scifi games of all time
Recommended Similar Analysis
Death by William Butler Yeats analysisSonnet 66: Tired with all these, for restful death I cry by William Shakespeare analysis
Sonnet XXXVI by William Shakespeare analysis
Book Of The Duchesse by Geoffrey Chaucer analysis
Salut Au Monde by Walt Whitman analysis
Riprap by Gary Snyder analysis
A Work Of Artifice by Marge Piercy analysis
To A Young Ass by Samuel Taylor Coleridge analysis
Sweet Skepticism of the Heart- by Emily Dickinson analysis
To M.L.S. by Edgar Allan Poe analysis