Thou knowst thyself so little, as thou knowst not,
How thou didst die, nor how thou wast begot.
Thou neither knowst, how thou at first camst in,
Nor how thou tookst the poison of mans sin.
Nor dost thou, (though thou knowst, thou art so)
By what way thou art made immortal, know.
Thou art too narrow, wretch, to comprehend
Even thyself; yea though thou wouldst but bend
To know thy body.
Have not all souls thought
For many ages, that our body is wrought
Of air, & fire, & other elements?
And now they think of new ingredients,
And one soul thinks one, & another way
Another thinks,
& tis an even lay.
Knowst thou but how the stone doth enter in
The bladders cave, & never breaks the skin?
Knowst thou how blood, which to the heart doth flow,
Doth from one ventricle to th'other go?
And for the putrid stuff, which thou dost spit,
Knowst thou how thy lungs have attracted it?
There are no passages, so that there is
(For aught thou knowst) piercing of substances.
And of those many opinions, which men raise
Of nails & hairs, dost thou know which to praise?
What hope have we to know ourselves, when we
Know not the least things, which for our use to be?
John Donne The Second Anniversary 254-280
Imagine not knowing what hair & nails are made of. Having the media filled with people arguing the point, calling their opponents ignorant or stupid.
Although it is easy to feel quite smug about how much more 'we' know these days, I often wonder if it is possible to say whether an individual can know more than did someone like Donne? OK, a lot of what he knew was wrong (we think) but theres also an awful lot 'we' have forgotten because it is not much use to us in our daily lives
