ABSTRACT
In some things Donne was indeed the first poet of his time, Shakespeare alone excepted, and yet this place is not generally accorded to him, because, if he do not wholly perish, he does suffer neglect for not being understood, and is hard to read for not keeping of accent. More than this, few poets are so unequal as Donne; few, capable of such high reaches as he, sink lower than he at times descends. His verse must be sifted with a coarse sieve; much of it will run through the meshes, but when all that is worthless or worse has been sifted out, there remains a residue of the pure grain of poetry, of poetry rich in imagination, fancy, wit, passion, and reflection, and in strong and often not unmusical verse.
