Short Poem 02

This poem is by Francis Quarles (1592-1644) a prolific poet and father (he had 18 children). See here and here. This is not a particularly well known poem but it was anthologised in a Penguin book of metaphysical poetry many years ago and that is where I found it. I like the way it reflects on the biblical narrative and plays with the ideas that arise in that charming Gospel story. Its brevity is also admirable.

Zaccheus

Methinks I see with what a busy haste
Zaccheus climbed the tree. But, O how fast
How full of speed, canst thou imagine (when
Our Saviour called) he powdered down again!
He ne’er made trial if the boughs were sound,
Or rotten; nor how far 'twas to the ground.
There was no danger feared. At such a call
He’ll venture nothing, that dare fear a fall.
Needs must he down, by such a spirit driven;
Nor could he fall, unless he fell to Heaven.
Down came Zaccheus, ravished from the tree;
Bird that was shot, ne’er dropped so quick as he.