The Poetry of John Donne

by John Donne

A central figure of the 17th century metaphysical movement, John Donne is considered one of the greatest poets in the English language. Written nearly 400 years ago, his verse speaks to us as directly and passionately as if the poet were whispering in our ear. His poems are animated by an intoxicating use of metaphor and imagery - see, for example, The Flea or A Forbidding Mourning. Reflecting his life story, his work traces a course from romance and erotica through satire to devotional verse. This splendid collection includes songs, sonnets, elegies, epithalamia, satires and devotional poems.

Genres: Poetry

240 pages, Paperback

Published April 15, 2019

About the author

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.

Reviews

[Chelsea Roles]

3.5 ⭐
If the whole book was Section 1 it would have been 5 stars.

'When I am dead, and doctors know not why,
And my friends' curiosity
Will have me cut up to survey each part,
When they shall find your picture in my heart,
You think a sudden damp of love
Will through all their senses move,
And work on them as me, and so prefer
Your murder to the name of massacre.'

[Sara]

I liked his poetry best when he was a slut but it’s all good, helps to know the historical and biographical context

[Rachel]

From what I gather, John Donne is the 16th century's answer to Bukowksi. He's perpetually whining about getting his dick wet, yet - just like Bukowski - divides all women into sluts and whores who will help him in this, or withholding bitches who are still sluts and whores, but just not right now for him particularly. He's got a great reputation as a love poet, but this is mostly lust, and it's the lust for objects, not people.

The Fever:
"For I had rather owner be
Of thee one hour, than all else ever."

Like yes, that's romantic, but only if you're playing the game in Stalker Mode.

The Indifferent:
"Must I, who came to travail through you,
Grow your fix'd subject, because you are true?"

I mean, yeah, there's a strong argument to be made against your whining here?

Love's Alchemy:
"Hope not for mind in women; at their best
Sweetness and wit, they are but mummy, possess'd."

GEE THANKS. Just a thought - maybe you'd lose less affection from these 'false' women if you were less of a TOTAL DICK to them.

Even the famous 'Song'...
"Though she were true when you met her,
And last, till you write your letter,
Yet she
Will be
False, ere I come, to two, or three."

OKAY JOHNNY I THINK YOU MUST ACCEPT THAT THE COMMON DENOMINATOR ALL THE TIME IS ... YOU.

Elegy VIII
The Comparison:
"Rank sweaty froth they mistress' brow defiles,
Like spermatic tissue of ripe menstruous boils
[...]
Are not your kisses then as filthy, and more
As a worm sucking an envenomed sore?"

So that's actively gross. Thank you next.

But when he's good, he's very very good! Just ... my overall takeaway is that he's not My Poet.

The Broken Heart:
"I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me.
if it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to show
More pity unto me; but love, alas,
At one first blow did shiver it as glass."

A Nocturnal Upon St Lucy's Day:
"For I am every dead thing,
In whom love wrought new alchemy.
For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness;
He ruin'd me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death: things which are not."

The Will:
"My constancy I to the planets give;
My truth to them who at the court do live;
My ingenuity and openness,
To Jesuits; to buffoons my pensiveness;
My silence to any, who abroad hath been;
My money to a Capuchin:"

Elegy IX
The Autumnal:
"If we love things long sought, age is a thing,
Which we are fifty years in compassing.
[...]
Not panting after growing beauties, so,
I shall ebb out with them, who homeward go."

Elegy X
The Dream:
"So, if I dream I have you, I have you,
For all our joys are but fantastical.
[...]
Fill'd with her love, may I be rather grown
Mad with much heart, than idiot with none."

Elegy XIII
His Parting from Her:
For this to th' comfort of my dear I vow,
My deeds shall still be what my words are now;
The poles shall move to teach me ere I start;
And when I change my love, I'll change my heart;
Nay, if I wax but cold in my desire,
Think, heaven hath motion lost, and the world, fire:
Much more I could, but many words have made
That oft suspected which men would persuade;
Take therefore all in this: I love so true,
As I will never look for less in you."

Elegy XVI
The Expostulation:
"Love was as subtly catch'd as a disease.
But being got, it is a treasure sweet,
Which to defend is harder than to get;
And ought not to be profaned, on either part,
For though 'tis got by chance, 'tis kept by art."

The Storm:
"Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfill
All offices of death, except to kill."

Holy Sonnets:
"At the round earth's imagined corners blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
from death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go;
All whom the flood did, and fire shall o'erthrow,
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance hath slain, and you, whose eyes
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe."

Favourites: The Bait; Lover's Infiniteness; Love's Diet; The Message.

[Ashley]

If the stereotypical "nice guy" was a poetry book. Although he has some beautiful words at times, he lacks the morals and the intellect to create a collection worth reading.

[Andrew Pitkin]

John Donne's poetry is crazy - it combines unusual conceits in unusual ways to say interesting things about the dirt of human existence. Of note to any reader should be: "The Flea," "The Canonization," "The Sun Rising," "The Ecstasy," "The Bait," "The Burnt Ship," "The Dream," and "The Apparition."

Donne interests me for being a great poet, yes, but more so for influencing the Modernist movement.
T.S. Eliot was immensely influenced by him, as "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," 'The Waste Land', and pretty much every other poem Eliot wrote contain Donne's penchant for complicating imagery and human experience.

Everyone should read Donne or Marvell at least, when it comes to the Metaphysical Poets. They are essential.

[Karen Butman]

Poetry book #3...much the same as the two others of Elizabeth Barrett Browning and Emily Dickenson. This author is from the 17th century, I think. Anyway, more of the same...archaic language, reference to historical events that I am unfamiliar with, use of mythology terminology. I know it would be of benefit for me, and probably greater enjoyment, to research these things. But, it would take the time I am not sure I am willing to put in, which is probably to my detriment. I didn't like many of his poems until I got to the section that were poems written after his religious conversion. They were mostly Biblically sound. I would say those were my favorites. I understood the text quite well and even enjoyed them. Onto the next poet....

[Jackie]

Romantic, slutty (in a positive way), and at times incel-ish?
Overall I enjoyed his works, section 3 was my least favorite (marriage songs) and section 6 dragged a little bit for me.
The way he wrote flows very well and also has me rethinking how to write poetry since I've never thought to break up a word across lines to make the rhyme work, or even just breaking sentences in odd places to work with the flow.

[Jacob Cronin]

I still am not a huge fan of poetry, so take that into consideration with my rating. I also think that John Donne’s poetry is just too religious for me. I didn’t know anything about him going in, and I just wasn’t a fan after finishing.

[Kenneth Bennion]

Donne certainly is a master of form, however saccharine.

I dog-earred sonnets "Love's Growth" and "The Triple Fool"; elegy XIII "His Parting from Her"; as well as divine poems "Good Friday...", "La Corona", and "Death be not proud".

[Hannah]

Got it as part of a set. Half the book was a "woe is me" collection love poems, and at that I was like, "Please let the book be over." His religious poems weren't half bad.

[Zee]

I always forget how much I love Elizabethan pretty. It was a delightful evening reading through this. The book deserves way more than a one sitting perusal.