by John Donne
O Thou which to
search out
the secret parts
Of the
India, or rather
Paradise Of knowledge,
hast with
courage and
adviceLately 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.