Religion
TEMPLE.
With his kinde mother who partakes thy woe,
Ioseph turne backe; see where your child doth sit,
Blowing, yea blowing out those sparks of wit,
Which himselfe on the Doctors did bestow;
The Word but lately could not speake, and loe
It sodenly speakes wonders, whence comes it,
That all which was, and all which should be writ,
A shallow seeming child, should deeply know?
His Godhead was not soule to his manhood,
Nor had time mellowed him to this ripenesse,
But as for one which hath a long taske, 'Tis good,
With the Sunne to beginne his businesse,
He in his ages morning thus began
By miracles exceeding power of man.
Cite this poem
MLA
Donne, John. “TEMPLE.” Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/donne/3/.
Chicago
Donne, John. “TEMPLE.” Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/donne/3/.
Read this poem with the Codex →