Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO MR. R.W. [ROWLAND WOODWARD] (1), by JOHN DONNE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO MR. R.W. [ROWLAND WOODWARD] (1), by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: If, as mine is, thy life a slumber be
Last Line: Vertue, our formes forme and our soules soule, is.


If, as mine is, thy life a slumber be,
Seeme, when thou read'st these lines, to dreame of me,
Never did Morpheus nor his brother weare
Shapes soe like those Shapes, whom they would appeare,
As this my letter is like me, for it
Hath my name, words, hand, feet, heart, minde and wit;
It is my deed of gift of mee to thee,
It is my Will, my selfe the Legacie.
So thy retyrings I love, yea envie,
Bred in thee by a wise melancholy,
That I rejoyce, that unto where thou art,
Though I stay here, I can thus send my heart,
As kindly'as any enamored Patient
His Picture to his absent Love hath sent.

All newes I thinke sooner reach thee then mee;
Havens are Heavens, and Ships wing'd Angles be,
The which both Gospell, and sterne threatnings bring;
Guyanaes harvest is nip'd in the spring,
I feare; And with us (me thinkes) Fate deales so
As with the Jewes guide God did; he did show
Him the rich land, but bar'd his entry in:
Oh, slownes is our punishment and sinne.
Perchance, these Spanish businesse being done,
Which as the Earth betweene the Moone and Sun
Eclipse the light which Guyana would give,
Our discontinued hopes we shall retrive:
But if (as all th'All must) hopes smoake away,
Is not Almightie Vertue'an India?

If men be worlds, there is in every one
Some thing to answere in some proportion
All the worlds riches: And in good men, this,
Vertue, our formes forme and our soules soule, is.





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