Explore "Upon the Translation of the Psalms by Sir Philip Sidney, and the Countess of Pembroke, his Sister" by John Donne on Textopian.
Eternal God-for whom who ever dare / Seek new expressions, do the circle square, / And thrust into straight corners of poor wit / Thee, who art cornerless and infinite- / I would but bless Thy name, not name Thee now / -And Thy gifts are as infinite as Thou- / Fix we our praises therefore on this one, / That, as thy blessed Spirit fell upon / These Psalms' first author in a cloven tongue / -For 'twas a double power by which he sung / The highest matter in the noblest form- / So Thou hast cleft that Spirit, to performs / That work again, and shed it here, upon / Two, by their bloods, and by Thy Spirit one; / A brother and a sister, made by Thee / The organ, where Thou art the harmony. / Two that make one John Baptist's holy voice, / And who that Psalm, "Now let the Isles rejoice," / Have both translated, and applied it too, / Both told us what, and taught us how to do. / They show us islanders our Joy, our King; / They tell us why, and teach us how to sing. / Make all this all three choirs, heaven, earth, and spheres; / The first, Heaven, hath a song, but no man hears; / The spheres have music, but they have no tongue, / Their harmony is rather danced than sung; / But our third choir, to which the first gives ear / -For angels learn by what the Church does here- / This choir hath all. The organist is he / Who hath tuned God and man, the organ we; / The songs are these, which heaven's high holy Muse / Whisper'd to David, David to the Jews; / And David's successors in holy zeal, / In forms of joy and art do re-reveal / To us so sweetly and sincerely too, / That I must not rejoice as I would do, / When I behold that these Psalms are become / So well attired abroad, so ill at home, / So well in chambers, in Thy Church so ill, / As I can scarce call that reform'd until / This be reform'd; would a whole state present / A lesser gift than some one man hath sent? / And shall our Church unto our Spouse and King / More hoarse, more harsh than any other, sing? / For that we pray, we praise Thy name for this, / Which, by this Moses and this Miriam, is / Already done; and as those Psalms we call, / -Though some have other authors-David's all, / So though some have, some may some Psalms translate, / We Thy Sidneian psalms shall celebrate, / And, till we come th' extemporal song to sing / -Learn'd the first hour that we see the King, / Who hath translated those translators-may / These their sweet learned labours all the way / Be as our tuning, that when hence we part, / We may fall in with them, and sing our part!