The Art of Letters

by Robert Lynd

And that fear fans their heat; whilst knowing eyes

Will not admire

At this strange fire

That here is mingled with thy sacrifice,

But dare read even thy wanton story

As thy confession, not thy glory;

And will so envy both to future times,

That they would buy thy goodness with thy crimes.

To the modern reader, on the contrary, it will seem that there is as much divinity in the best of the love-poems as in the best of the religious ones. Donne’s last word as a secular poet may well be regarded as having been uttered in that great poem in celebration of lasting love, The Anniversary, which closes with so majestic a sweep:

Here upon earth we are kings, and none but we