
The speaker urges his own poem, however hindered by its imperfect meter, to hasten to Mr. Thomas Woodward carrying both his pain and his pleasure. He acknowledges having equipped the verse as best he can, giving it feet, a reasoning soul, and a tongue to speak, yet admits it remains too weak for the task. He instructs it to tell Woodward that all disputes men have argued over, concerning the location and the torments of hell, are now settled: it is decreed that hell is nothing but privation of Woodward himself, at least as experienced within this earthly dwelling. He locates himself in a place, a street, where infections continually follow, overtake, and meet one another. Whether he lives or dies, he declares that his love is sent by means of this verse, and calls the poem either his pawn or his testament.
By John Donne · First published 1633 · Genre: Metaphysical Poetry, Love Poetry, Lyric Poetry · 165 words
Haste thee, harsh verse, as fast as thy lame measure / Will give thee leave, to him-my pain and pleasure. / I've given thee, and yet thou art too weak, / Feet, and a reasoning soul, and tongue to speak. / Tell him all questions, which men have defended, / Both of the place and pains of hell, are ended; / And 'tis decreed, our hell is but privation / Of him, at least in this earth's habitation. / And 'tis where I am, where in every street / Infections follow, overtake, and meet. / Live I or die, by you my love is sent; / And you're my pawns, or else my testament.
To Mr. Thomas Woodward: Haste Thee, Harsh Verse, as Fast as Thy Lame Measure is listed on Textopian as a poem by John Donne, dated 1633 CE.
This source record anchors work identity, reading entry points, and catalog context for checking claims about the work.
poetry · epistolary · metaphysical · early modern english · satirical · wit · conceit · ironic · meta-poetic · critical · formal verse · renaissance