The Everyman's Library Pocket Poets hardcover series is popular for its compact size and reasonable price which does not compromise content. Poems: Donne contains Songs and Sonnets, Letters to the Countess of Bedford, The First Anniversary, Holy Sonnets, Divine Poems, excerpts from Paradoxes and Problems, Ignatius His Conclave, The Sermons, Essays and Devotions, and an index of first lines.
John Donne was an English poet, preacher and a major representative of the metaphysical poets of the period. His works are notable for their realistic and sensual style and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially as compared to that of his contemporaries.
Despite his great education and poetic talents, he lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. In 1615 he became an Anglican priest and, in 1621, was appointed the Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London.
This was a lot. I know most poetry isn't designed to be read like a novel, but I read it really spread out, some days it was really hard and I definitely had to force myself. A few sections stuck with me, but ultimately I feel these works are historically relevant, but not my thing.
When Donne is at his best, he's wonderful and clearly the best of the metaphysical poets. This old Oxford Standard Authors edition arranges the poem by type, of course, but I recommend jumping between types/forms. Reading his Songs and Sonnets straight through gets tiresome, but they stay fresh if you intersperse readings of the Epigrams, Elegies, Satyres, and Divine Poems. The introduction, I think by Sir Herbert Grierson, is helpful but mostly unremarkable. He says Donne had an "instinct for beauty ... too arrogantly controlled by a restless intellect" (xxii-xxiii). Whatever that means. Donne was obviously a sensuous and restless guy, which makes some of his poetry remarkably powerful.
"Drown my world with my weeping earnestly, Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more: But oh it must be burnt! alas the fire Of lust and envie have burnt it heretofore, And made it fouler; Let their flames retire, And burne me o Lord, with a fiery zeale Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heale."
"Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe, ... One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die."
"Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow mee, and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.... Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I Except you enthrall mee, never shall be free, Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee."