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Homage to John Donne



When all around I scan epitomes of earth
And dire chastisement of my own worth
I see the thew, grain, stain of blood there felt
Of my Lord, as in Gethsemane He knelt.

Broken shard of muscle, sinew, thigh,
He was ourselves, even in His sigh
Of flesh and self, taking commonalty
Of thick stuff, our all mortality,

Laying our sin before God's mercy-seat
On guiltless penance' knees as paraclete.
Incarnate Lord, in this Thy grievous pain,
Embrace us, bring us to Thyself again.
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Submitted on May 01, 2011

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Lindsay George Hall Claim this poet

British born and brought up, classically educated.Apart from the Greek and Latin Classics, my special enthusiasms are English and German romantic poetry, but also (outwith that loop) the spare New Englander Emily Dickinson and Gerard Manley Hopkins. My own stuff here is largely 'retro', but I make no apology for that. Poetry, to be poetry, needs discipline.I am happy to review (or preview) poems by request (lindsayxix@gmail.com). more…

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    "Homage to John Donne" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2022. Web. 29 May 2022. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/73631/homage-to-john-donne>.

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