The Grand and the Glorious
aka Praise God for John Donne. Here's another of his nearly miraculous Holy Sonnets. I had wondered where Philip Jose Farmer had gotten the fantastic title for one of the novels (the 2nd?) in his Riverboat series. "When what to my wondering eyes should appear..." this Holy Sonnet.
Holy Sonnet VII John Donne
At the round earths imagin'd corners, blow
Your trumpets, Angells, and arise, arise
From death, you numberlesse infinities
Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow,
All whom warre, dearth, sage, agues, tyrannies,
Despaire, law chance, hath slaine, and you whose eyes,
Shall behold God, and never tast deaths woe.
But let them sleepe, Lord, and mee mourne a space,
For, if above all these, my sinnes abound,
'Tis late to aske abundance of thy grace,
When wee are there; here on this lowly ground,
Teach mee how to repent; for that's as good
As if thou'hadst seal'd my pardon, with thy blood.
Forthcoming, another inductee into the Glorious Seventeenth Century Poets Society. (Hint: it's not Dylan, he transcends mere centuries! Truly A Man for All Seasons (and I don't say that lightly considering the high esteem in which I hold the original of that title)).
