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Poetry

Sunday Sonnet

16

The Bride of Christ is the Church. The hatred of the Church is because the saints: the members of the church invisible, will become one, righteous, pure, holy, sanctified, and together with Christ. He waits for us.

Despite the depredations of the time. Donne was writing during a century of war, particularly in Germany, but spreading to the British Isles.

Holy Sonnet 18

Show me, dear Christ, thy spouse so bright and clear.
What! is it she which on the other shore
Goes richly painted? or which, robbed and tore,
Laments and mourns in Germany and here?
Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year?
Is she self-truth, and errs? now new, now outwore?
Doth she, and did she, and shall she evermore
On one, on seven, or on no hill appear?
Dwells she with us, or like adventuring knights
First travel we to seek, and then make love?
Betray, kind husband, thy spouse to our sights,
And let mine amorous soul court thy mild dove,
Who is most true and pleasing to thee then
When she is embraced and open to most men.

John Donne