"The Extasie"
By John Donne

Transcription, correction, editorial commentary, and markup by Students and Staff of the University of Virginia, Rachel Retica

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Sources

London : M. F. for John Marriot, 1633We have taken our text from the Text Creation Partnership's digitized version of the 1633 edition of Donne's poems: https://github.com/textcreationpartnership/A69225/blob/master/A69225.xml. Donne's poems circulated in manuscript during his life time, and were not issued in a print version until this edition, which came out after Donne's death in 1632. The long "s" of the original has been modernized, but we have otherwise kept the original spelling. The title page has been sourced from Princeton University Special Collections.

Editorial Statements

Research informing these annotations draws on publicly-accessible resources, with links provided where possible. Annotations have also included common knowledge, defined as information that can be found in multiple reliable sources. If you notice an error in these annotations, please contact lic.open.anthology@gmail.com.

Original spelling and capitalization is retained, though the long s has been silently modernized and ligatured forms are not encoded.

Hyphenation has not been retained, except where necessary for the sense of the word.

Page breaks have been retained. Catchwords, signatures, and running headers have not.

Materials have been transcribed from and checked against first editions, where possible. See the Sources section for more information.

Citation

Donne, John. "The Extasie". Poems, by J. D., With Elegies on the Authors Death, M. F. for John Marriot, 1633 , 200 . Literature in Context: An Open Anthology. http://anthologydev.lib.virginia.edu/work/Donne/donne-extasie. Accessed: 2024-12-27T10:54:19.145Z

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[TP] POEMS,
By J. D[onne].
WITH
ELEGIES
ON THE AUTHOR'S
Death.

LONDON.
Printed by M. F. for [J]OHN MARRIOT,
and are to be sold at his shop in St Dunstans
Church-yard in Fleet-street. 1633. The Extasie. 1WHere, like a pillow on a bed, 2A Pregnant banke swel'd up, to rest 3The violets reclining head, 4Sat we two, one anothers best;
5Our hands were firmely cimented 6With a fast balme, which thence did spring, 7Our eye-beames twisted, and did thred 8Our eyes, upon one double string,
9So to'entergraft our hands, as yet 10Was all the meanes to make us one, 11And pictures in our eyes to get 12Was all our propagation.
13As 'twixt two equall Armies, Fate 14Suspends uncertaine victorie, 15Our soules, (which to advance their state, 16Were gone out,) hung 'twixt her, and mee.
17And whil'st our soules negotiate there, 18Wee like sepulchrall statues lay, 19All day, the same our postures were, 20And wee said nothing, all the day.
21If any, so by love refin'd, 22That he soules language understood, 23And by good love were growen all minde, 24Within convenient distance stood,
25He (though he knowes not which soule spake, 26Because both meant, both spake the same) 27Might thence a new concoction take, 28And part farre purer then he came.
29This Extasie doth unperplex 30(We said) and tell us what we love, 31Wee see by this, it was not sexe 32Wee see, we saw not what did move:
33But as all severall soules containe 34Mixture of things, they know not what, 35Love, these mixt soules, doth mixe againe, 36And makes both one, each this and that.
37A single violet transplant, 38The strength, the colour, and the size, 39(All which before was poore, and scant,) 40Redoubles still, and multiplies.
41When love, with one another so 42Interanimates two soules, 43That abler soule, which thence doth flow, 44Defects of lonelinesse controules.
45Wee then, who are this new soule, know, 46Of what we are compos'd, and made, 47For, th'Atomies of which we grow, 48Are soules, whom no change can invade.
49But O alas, so long, so farre 50Our bodies why doe wee forbeare? 51They are ours, though not wee, Wee are 52The intelligences, they the spheares.
53We owe them thankes, because they thus, 54Did us, to us, at first convay, 55Yeelded their senses force to us, 56Nor are drosse to us, but allay.
57On man heavens influence workes not so, 58But that it first imprints the ayre, 59For soule into the soule may flow, 60Though it to body first repaire.
61As our blood labours to beget 62Spirits, as like soules as it can, 63Because such fingers need to knit 64That subtile knot, which makes us man:
65So must pure lovers soules descend 66T'affections, and to faculties, 67Which sense may reach and apprehend, 68Else a great Prince in prison lies.
69To'our bodies turne wee then, that so 70Weake men on love reveal'd may looke; 71Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, 72But yet the body is his booke.
73And if some lover, such as wee, 74Have heard this dialogue of one, 75Let him still marke us, he shall see 76Small change, when we'are to bodies gone.