John Donne. Ode.

John Donne

ODE.

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.

Source:
Donne, John. Poems of John Donne. vol I.
E. K. Chambers, ed.
London: Lawrence & Bullen, 1896. 190-191.

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