Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SATIRE: UPON MR. THOMAS CORYATS CRUDITIES, by JOHN DONNE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SATIRE: UPON MR. THOMAS CORYATS CRUDITIES, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Oh to what height will love of greatness drive
Last Line: And rather then read all, I would reade none.
Variant Title(s): Commendatory Verses Upon Mr. Thomas Coryat's Crudities


Oh to what height will love of greatnesse drive
Thy leavened spirit, Sesqui-superlative?
Venice vast lake thou hadst seen, and would seek than
Some vaster thing, and found'st a Curtizan.
That inland Sea having discovered well,
A Cellar gulfe, where one might saile to hell
From Heydelberg, thou longdst to see: And thou
This Booke, greater then all, producest now.
Infinite worke, which doth so far extend,
That none can study it to any end.
'Tis no one thing, it is not fruit nor roote;
Nor poorely limited with head or foot.
If man be therefore man, because he can
Reason, and laugh, thy booke doth halfe make man.
One halfe being made, thy modestie was such,
That thou on th'other half wouldst never touch.
When wilt thou be at full, great Lunatique?
Not till thou exceed the world? Canst thou be like
A prosperous nose-borne wenne, which sometimes growes
To be farre greater then the Mother-nose?
Goe then; and as to thee, when thou didst go,
Munster did Townes, and Gesner Authors show,
Mount now to Gallo-belgicus; appear
As deepe a States-man, as a Gazettier.
Homely and familiarly, when thou com'st back,
Talke of Will. Conquerour, and Prester Jack.
Go bashfull man, lest here thou blush to looke
Vpon the progresse of thy glorious booke,
To which both Indies sacrifices send;
The West sent gold, which thou didst freely spend,
(Meaning to see't no more) upon the presse.
The East sends hither her deliciousnesse;
And thy leaves must imbrace what comes from thence,
The Myrrhe, the Pepper, and the Frankincense.
This magnifies thy leaves; but if they stoope
To neighbour wares, when Merchants do unhoope
Voluminous barrels; if thy leaves do then
Convey these wares in parcels unto men;
If for vast Tons of Currans, and of Figs,
Of Medicinall and Aromatique twigs,
Thy leaves a better method do provide,
Divide to pounds, and ounces sub-divide;
If they stoope lower yet, and vent our wares,
Home-manufactures, to thick popular Faires,
If omni-praegnant there, upon warme stalls,
They hatch all wares for which the buyer calls;
Then thus thy leaves we justly may commend,
That they all kinde of matter comprehend.
Thus thou, by means which th'Ancients never took,
A Pandect makest, and Vniversall Booke.
The bravest Heroes, for publike good,
Scattered in divers Lands their limbs and blood.
Worst malefactors, to whom men are prize,
Do publike good, cut in Anatomies;
So will thy booke in peeces; for a Lord
Which casts at Portescues, and all the board,
Provide whole books; each leafe enough will be
For friends to passe time, and keep company.
Can all carouse up thee? no, thou must fit
Measures; and fill out for the half-pint wit:
Some shall wrap pils, and save a friends life so,
Some shall stop muskets, and so kill a foe.
Thou shalt not ease the Criticks of next age
So much, at once their hunger to asswage:
Nor shall wit-pirats hope to finde thee lye
All in one bottome, in one Librarie.
Some Leaves may paste strings there in other books,
And so one may, which on another looks,
Pilfer, alas, a little wit from you;
But hardly much; and yet I think this true;
As Sibyls was, your booke is mysticall,
For every peece is as much worth as all.
Therefore mine impotency I confesse,
The healths which my braine bears must be far lesse:
Thy Gyant-wit'orethrowes me, I am gone;
And rather then read all, I would reade none.





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