Listening to: Beethoven: String Quartet No.10
I know my body's of so frail a kind
As force without, fevers within, can kill;
I know the heavenly nature of my mind,
But 'tis corrupted both in wit and will;I know my soul hath power to know all things,
Yet is she blind and ignorant of all;
I know I am one of nature's little kings,
Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.I know my life's a pain and but a span,
I know my sense is mocked with everything;
And to conclude, I know myself a man,
Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing.
From the poem 'Nosce Teipsum' ['know yourself'] by Sir John Davies (1569-1626).
I'm not a poetry reader but saw part of this poem in a newspaper at St Pancras station the other day and noted down the details so I could read the whole thing later.
The whole poem is a powerful description of the fall, although the newspaper didn't acknowledge that Christian belief underlying it. It describes how a desire for knowledge led to the fall, but the result of that was that we can no longer bare to look at ourselves in the mirror, however suffering forces us to examine ourselves and see who we really are.
Sir John Davies was the Attorney General of Ireland under James I when not writing poetry.
