English poem
To Mr. Samuel Brooke
by John Donne
O Thou which to search out the secret parts Of the India, or rather Paradise Of knowledge, hast with courage and advice Lately launch’d into the vast sea of arts; Disdain not in thy constant travelling To do as other voyagers, and make Some turns into less creeks, and wisely take Fresh water at the Heliconian spring. I sing not, siren-like, to tempt, for I Am harsh; nor as those schismatics with you, Which draw all wits of good hope to their crew; But seeing in you bright sparks of poetry, I, though I brought no fuel, had desire With these articulate blasts to blow the fire.
More by John Donne
- To Mr. Rowland Woodward: Kindly I Envy Thy Song’s Perfection
- To Mr. Rowland Woodward: Like One Who in Her Third Widowhood Doth Profess
- To Mr. Rowland Woodward: Muse Not That by Thy Mind Thy Body Is Led
- To Mr. Rowland Woodward: Zealously My Muse Doth Salute All Thee
- To Mr. Thomas Woodward: All Hail, Sweet Poet, More Full of More Strong Fire
- To Mr. Thomas Woodward: At Once from Hence My Lines and I Depart
- To Mr. Thomas Woodward: Haste Thee, Harsh Verse, as Fast as Thy Lame Measure
- To Mr. Thomas Woodward: Pregnant Again with th’ Old Twins, Hope and Fear