Public-domain source text

Ode

by John Donne

From Standard Ebooks · standardebooks/john-donne_poetry

Vengeance Will Sit Above Our Faults; But Till
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.
II
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.
III
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.
IV
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.

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