Diary of the Plague Year: Day 99 22 June 2020: Quotidian Poetry: John Donne (1572 – 1631)

SONG

Goe, and catche a falling starre,
    Get with child a mandrake roote,
Tell me, where all past yeares are,
     Or who cleft the Divels foot,
Teach me to heare Mermaides singing,
     Or to keep off envies stinging,
                     And finde
                     What winde
Serves to advance an honest minde.
 
If thou beest borne to strange sights,
     Things invisible to see,
Ride ten thousand daies and nights,
     Till age snow white haires on thee,
Thou, when thou retorn’st, wilt tell mee
All strange wonders that befell thee,
                     And sweare
                     No where
Lives a woman true, and faire.
 
If thou findst one, let mee know,
     Such a Pilgrimage were sweet;
Yet doe not, I would not goe,
     Though at next doore wee might meet,
Though she were true, when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
                     Yet shee
                     Will bee
False, ere I come, to two, or three.

FROM:

John Donne

COMPLETE POETRY 
& SELECTED PROSE

Edited by John Hayward

THE NONESUCH PRESS

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