Love's Deity by John Donne I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her that loves not me.
24 May 2018 11:28

Love's Deity by John Donne I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her that loves not me. 

Love's Deity by John Donne
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost,
Who died before the God of Love was born:
I cannot think that he, who then loved most,
Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn.
But since this god produced a destiny,
And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be,
I must love her that loves not me.

Sure, they which made him god meant not so much,
Nor he in his young godhead practised it;
But when an even flame two hearts did touch,
His office was indulgently to fit
Actives to passives. Correspondency
Only his subject was; it cannot be
Love, till I love her that loves me.

But every modern god will now extend
His vast prerogative as far as Jove.
To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend,
All is the purlieu of the God of Love.
Oh were we wakened by this tyranny
To ungod this child again, it could not be
I should love her who loves not me.

Rebel and atheist too, why murmur I
As though I felt the worst that love could do?
Love might make me leave loving, or might try
A deeper plague, to make her love me too,
Which, since she loves before, I'm loth to see;
Falsehood is worse than hate; and that must be,
If she whom I love should love me.

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Holy Sonnet VII: At The Round Earth's Imagined Corners Blow by John Donne At the round earth's imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go, Love's Deity by John Donne I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the God of Love was born: I cannot think that he, who then loved most, Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn. But since this god produced a destiny, And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be, I must love her that loves not me. Bhagavad Gita: Chapter 2, Verse 65    प्रसादे सर्वदु:खानां हानिरस्योपजायते | प्रसन्नचेतसो ह्याशु बुद्धि: पर्यवतिष्ठते || 65||  prasāde sarva-duḥkhānāṁ hānir asyopajāyate prasanna-chetaso hyāśhu buddhiḥ paryavatiṣhṭhate  prasāde—by divine grace; sarva—all; duḥkhānām—of sorrows; hāniḥ—destruction; asya—his; upajāyate—comes; prasanna-chetasaḥ—with a tranquil mind; hi—indeed; āśhu—soon; buddhiḥ—intellect; paryavatiṣhṭhate—becomes firmly established Translation BG 2.65: By divine grace comes the peace in which all sorrows end, and the intellect of such a person of tranquil mind soon becomes firmly established in God.
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