Away from thee.
The thought is Donne's, but not the airy note, the easy style, or the tripping prosody. Donne never writes of absence in this cheerful, confident strain. He consoles himself at times with the doctrine of inseparable souls, but the note of pain is never absent. He cannot cheat his passionate heart and senses with metaphysical subtleties.
The song Farewell to love, the second in the list of poems added in 1635, is found only in O'F and S96. There is therefore no weighty external evidence for assigning it to Donne, but no one can read it without feeling that it is his. The cynical yet passionate strain of wit, the condensed style, and the metaphysical turn given to the argument, are all in his manner. As printed in 1635 the point of the third stanza is obscured. As I have ventured to amend it, an Aristotelian doctrine is referred to in a way that only Donne would have done in quite such a setting.
The three Elegies, XII, XIII, and XIV (7, 8, 9 in the list), must also be assigned to Donne, unless some more suitable candidate can be advanced on really convincing grounds. The first of the three, His parting from her, is so fine a poem that it is difficult to think any unknown poet could have written it. In sincerity and poetic quality it is one of the finest of the Elegies,[15] and in this sincerer note, the absence of witty paradox, it differs from poems like The Bracelet and The Perfume and resembles the fine elegy called His Picture and two other pieces that stand somewhat apart from the general tenor of the Elegies, namely, the famous elegy On his Mistris, in which he dissuades her from travelling with him as a page:
By our first strange and fatal interview,
and that rather enigmatical poem The Expostulation, which found its way into Jonson's Underwoods:
To make the doubt clear that no woman's true,
Was it my fate to prove it strong in you?
All of these poems bear the imprint of some actual experience, and to this cause we may perhaps trace the comparative rareness with which His parting from her is found in manuscripts, and that it finally appeared in a mutilated form. The poet may have given copies only to a few friends and desired that it should not be circulated. In the Second Collection of poems in TCD it is signed at the close, 'Sir Franc: Wryothlesse.' Who is intended by this I do not know. The ascriptions in this collection are many of them purely fanciful. Still, that the poem is Donne's rests on internal evidence alone.
Of the other two elegies, Julia, which is found in only two manuscripts, B and O'F, is quite the kind of thing Donne might have amused himself by writing in the scurrilous style of Horace's invectives against Canidia, frequently imitated by Mantuan and other Humanists. The chief difficulty with regard to the second, A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife, is to find Donne writing in this vein at so late a period as 1609 or 1610, the date implied in several of the allusions. He was already the author of religious poems, including probably La Corona. In 1610 he wrote his Litanie, and, as Professor Norton points out, in the same letter in which he tells of the writing of the latter he refers to some poem of a lighter nature, the name of which is lost through a mutilation of the letter, and says, 'Even at this time when (I humbly thank God) I ask and have his comfort of sadder meditations I do not condemn in myself that I have given my wit such evaporations as those, if they be free from profaneness, or obscene provocations.' Whether this would cover the elegy in question is a point on which perhaps our age and Donne's would not decide alike. Donne's nature was a complex one. Jack Donne and the grave and reverend divine existed side by side for not a little time, and even in the sermons Donne's wit is once or twice rather coarser than our generation would relish in the pulpit. But once more we must add that it is possible Donne has in this case been made responsible for what is another's. Every one wrote this occasional poetry, and sometimes wrote it well.