George Herbert's "Jordan (II)"

George Herbert
“Jordan (II)”
When first my lines of heav'nly joyes made mention,
Such was their lustre, they did so excell,
That I sought out quaint words, and trim invention ;
My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,
Curling with metaphors a plain intention,
Decking the sense, as if it were to sell.

Thousands of notions in my brain did runne,
Off'ring their service, if I were not sped :
I often blotted what I had begunne ;
This was not quick enough, and that was dead.
Nothing could seem too rich to clothe the sunne,
Much lesse those joyes which trample on his head.

As flames do work and winde, when they ascend,
So did I weave my self into the sense.
But while I bustled, I might heare a friend
Whisper, How wide is all this long pretence !
There is in love a sweetnesse readie penn'd :
Copie out only that, and save expense.

Herbert conveys his difficulty in reconciling his religion with his poetry. As a poet, he’s driven by an impulse to compose his thoughts into flowery, rich language, yet his religion requires the very modesty that would prohibit this type of expression. Herbert opens the first stanza describing his initial attempts to put his “heav’nly joyes” to paper. He describes his faith and his poetry using rich metaphor, pointing to the fact that he cannot even express his sentiments in this poem without violating God’s supposed call for modesty. He says that his poetry begins to “burnish, sprout and swell” his faith, implying that poetry can polish and beautify his love for God. Yet, Herbert goes on to say that his poetry begins “curling with metaphors a plain intention.” For all its richness, Herbert’s poetic language curls and thus distorts the purity of his “plain” faith. Herbert employs an unflattering simile to convey this degradation, stating that writing rich words is akin to “decking the sense, as if it were to sell.” Selling one’s sentiments is hardly pious, and Herbert implies that decorating one’s faith with flowery language is ostentatious.

Herbert’s second stanza conveys how consuming his practice can become. “I often blotted what I had begunne;” he says, pointing to how expressing one’s religion in poetry can often subject one’s faith to unnecessary scrutiny and alteration. If Herbert feels the need to blot out his words, his poetry reflects a certain vanity or preoccupation with his own merit rather than a devotion to God. Herbert’s poem builds insidiously to a climax when he states that “nothing could seem too rich to clothe the sunne.” Herbert attempts to encompass the greatness of God, or “the sunne” with “rich words.” Yet, he is aware that “nothing” can emulate God’s strength and that it is futile to think that a poem can measure up to his glory. Herbert concludes his poem with a friend’s wise admonition to “copie out only” the pure sentiment of faith and avoid the “long pretense” of rich wording. There is a certain futility in the whole endeavor of composing this poem, for Herbert employs the very literary devices he is warned to stay away from. In fact, he implies that poetry itself is “pretense” that distracts from true faith. When man is concerned with composing beautiful stanzas, he obsesses over himself rather than focusing on his love towards God. Herbert’s sentiments indicate that he’s greatly torn between his poetry and his faith.