Elegy Upon the Untimely Death of the Incomparabl

Name: Elegy Upon the Untimely Death of the Incomparable Prince Henry
Author: John Donne

The poem opens with the speaker addressing his own faith and God, describing reason and faith as two centres within him, both shaken by the same crisis. Reason, he explains, governs everyday, comprehensible things that fit within a single circumference, while faith alone can grasp the vast, disproportionate matters of God's essence, place, and providence, and of what becomes of departed souls. He notes that reason, extended to its furthest limit, can almost meet faith and make the two centres one, and says nothing ever came so near to achieving that union as contemplation of the prince now lost. Everything faith could credit of mankind, reason seconded as true of this prince. The speaker then asks what must happen to the world when both centres are thrown into such confusion that one no longer knows what to believe or know. He recalls how it was once firmly believed that this prince's reputation kept neighbouring states in a kind of suspended wakefulness, uncertain how to act until he revealed his intentions; that princes who tried to read his designs were left stupefied, as if struck by a torpedo fish; and that study of his likely course was his great father's chief instrument for carrying the "soul of peace" through Christianity. It was believed he would extend a general peace so that it might outlast time itself, touching truths of which earthly peace is only an emblem. As confirmation of this belief, heaven allowed that even in peaceful times, mere rumors of war arose only from his bearing and activity. But now, the speaker says, that former faith has become heresy: humanity must simply endure, "vex," and remain bound to dust. He turns to reproach a seemingly stingy providence, asking whether God has spent all His plagues on humanity and now, when death would ease their suffering, withholds even the "curse" of dying. He compares this to the futility of the lowest earth desiring to sink further, suggesting that God recognizes any human wish for death as merely a disguised wish for ease amid wretchedness, and so denies it. Therefore people go on living, though their life is likened to mandrakes growing on the prince's grave, sustained by his "putrefaction" and animated only by grief, since the world now has no other soul than that grief. He imagines that if grief could rise as high as heaven, the celestial choir, forgetting their new joy at receiving him, would wish him still alive below to correct the errors they foresee among the living. The speaker then questions whether reason, the "other centre," is any steadier than faith. He argues reason depends on a connection of causes, and with the prince gone there is no longer any such connection available to human understanding: just as it would be mad to investigate an accident once all substance were spent, so it is vain to look for reason once its very subject — the prince — is gone. He likens fate to a chain of links that industrious men trace, but says that when a "miracle" (an extraordinary, unlooked-for event) inserts a new link, men lose track of where to begin reasoning again; reason is even more broken when death itself severs such a link. He adds that to offer elaborate proof that humanity has lost its reason would itself disprove the claim, and the same applies to overly composed lamentation. Therefore, he concludes, it is safer to say that the living are dead rather than the prince, and that whether or not their grief is well expressed, there is a double excuse: he is not truly dead, and they themselves are. Yet the speaker declares he would not wish to die yet, even though he is too limited to comprehend the prince fully as he now is, at the "mid-period" of the soul's long journey toward contemplating God. Still, he says he can, without dishonour, reach toward the prince by considering how the prince embraced "the fires of love" along with the living. He then prays that, while he lives, he might see or hear the particular "she-intelligence" who moved this sphere — addressing an unknown, unnamed woman, saying that whoever possesses the "noble conscience" he describes is she. He conjures her, by all the charms the prince spoke, by the oaths that only the two of them never broke, and by all the sighs exchanged between their souls, that if she reads these lines she would wish the speaker knew their history. He closes by saying that, insofar as the two of them were like mutual heavens here on earth, he would become an angel singing of what they were.

By John Donne · First published 1613 · Genre: Elegy, Metaphysical Poetry, Memorial Poetry · 1,252 words

First lines

Look to me, faith, and look to my faith, God; / For both my centres feel this period. / Of weight one centre, one of greatness is; / And reason is that centre, faith is this; / For into our reason flow, and there do end, / All that this natural world doth comprehend, / Quotidian things, and equidistant hence, / Shut in, for man, in one circumference. / But for th' enormous greatnesses, which are / So disproportion'd and so angular, / As is God's essence, place, and providence, / Where, how, when, what souls do, departed hence, / These things (eccentric else) on faith do strike; / Yet neither all, nor upon all, alike. / For reason, put to her best extension, / Almost meets faith, and makes both centres one / And nothing ever came so near to this, / As contemplation of that prince we miss. / For all that faith might credit mankind could, / Reason still seconded that this prince would. / If, then, least moving of the centre make, / More than if whole hell belch'd, the world to shake, / What must this do, centres distracted so, / That we see not what to believe or know? / Was it not well believed till now, that he, / Whose reputation was an ecstasy / On neighbour states, which knew not why to wake, / Till he discover'd what ways he would take; / For whom, what princes angled, when they tried, / Met a torpedo, and were stupefied; / And others' studies, how he would be bent, / Was his great father's greatest instrument, / And activest spirit, to convey and tie / This soul of peace through Christianity? / Was it not well believed, that he would make / This general peace th' eternal overtake, / And that his times might have stretch'd out so far, / As to touch those of which they emblems are? / For to confirm this just belief, that now / The last days came, we saw heaven did allow / That, but from his aspect and exercise, / In peaceful times rumours of wars did rise. / But now this faith is heresy; we must / Still stay, and vex our great-grandmother, Dust. / O, is God prodigal? hath He spent His store / Of plagues on us; and only now, when more / Would ease us much, doth He grudge misery, / And will not let's enjoy our curse-to die? / As for the earth thrown lowest down of all, / 'Twere an ambition to desire to fall, / So God, in our desire to die, doth know / Our plot for ease, in being wretched so. / Therefore we live; though such a life we have, / As but so many mandrakes on his grave. / What had his growth and generation done, / When, what we are, his putrefaction / Sustains in us, earth, which griefs animate? / Nor hath our world now other soul than that; / And could grief get so high as heaven, that choir, / Forgetting this their new joy, would desire / -With grief to see him-he had stay'd below, / To rectify our errors they foreknow. / Is the other centre, reason, faster then? / Where should we look for that, now we're not men? / For if our reason be our connection / Of causes, now to us there can be none. / For, as if all the substances were spent, / 'Twere madness to enquire of accident, / So is 't to look for reason, he being gone, / The only subject reason wrought upon. / If fate have such a chain, whose divers links / Industrious man discerneth, as he thinks, / When miracle doth come, and so steal in / A new link, man knows not where to begin. / At a much deader fault must reason be, / Death having broke off such a link as he. / But now, for us, with busy proof to come, / That we've no reason, would prove we had some. / So would just lamentations; therefore we / May safelier say, that we are dead, than he; / So, if our griefs we do not well declare, / We've double excuse; he is not dead, and we are. / Yet I would not die yet; for though I be / Too narrow to think him, as he is he / -Our souls best baiting and mid-period, / In her long journey, of considering God- / Yet, no dishonour, I can reach him thus, / As he embraced the fires of love, with us. / O may I, since I live, but see or hear / That she-intelligence which moved this sphere, / I pardon fate, my life; whoe'er thou be, / Which hast the noble conscience, thou art she. / I conjure thee by all the charms he spoke, / By th' oaths, which only you two never broke, / By all the souls ye sigh'd, that if you see / These lines, you wish I knew your history; / So, much as you two mutual heavens were here, / I were an angel, singing what you were.

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Elegy Upon the Untimely Death of the Incomparable Prince Henry is listed on Textopian as a poem by John Donne, dated 1613 CE.

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Work type: Poem
Author: John Donne
Date: 1613 CE
Language: English
Genres: Elegy, Metaphysical Poetry, Memorial Poetry, Philosophical Poetry, Religious Poetry
Length: 1,252 words
Structure: 1 section, 1 paragraphs
Reading fit: Standard (8th-9th Grade)

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Genres

Elegy — The title explicitly identifies this as an elegy—a poem of mourning and lamentation for the dead. The work's primary purpose is to commemorate and grieve the death of Prince Henry.
Metaphysical Poetry — Exemplifies metaphysical conceits with abstract philosophical wit, particularly the elaborate geometric conceit of faith and reason as two centers. Demonstrates characteristic Metaphysical complexity and baroque imagery central to Donne's style.
Memorial Poetry — Formally commemorates a specific historical figure, Prince Henry, employing traditional elegiac conventions of praise, lamentation, and remembrance to honor the deceased.
Philosophical Poetry — Engages in sustained philosophical inquiry into reason, knowledge, causality, mortality, and the nature of human understanding, using logical and epistemological arguments throughout.