John Donne

Here you will find the Poem Ode of poet John Donne


I. VENGEANCE will sit above our faults ; but till 
She there do sit, 
We see her not, nor them. Thus blind, yet still 
We lead her way ; and thus, whilst we do ill, 
We suffer it. 

2. Unhappy he whom youth makes not beware 
Of doing ill. 
Enough we labour under age, and care ; 
In number, th' errors of the last place are 
The greatest still. 

3. Yet we, that should the ill we now begin 
As soon repent, 
Strange thing ! perceive not ; our faults are not seen, 
But past us ; neither felt, but only in 
The punishment. 

4. But we know ourselves least ; mere outward shows 
Our minds so store, 
That our souls no more than our eyes disclose 
But form and colour. Only he who knows 
Himself, knows more.