Poetry Worthy of Thought

I have never been a huge fan of poetry for various reasons. One is that I have always viewed poetry as somewhat forced, with the structure of sentences often adjusted away from their normal usage to fit the rhyme and meter of the poem. Of course there is "free verse," which seems to me to be prose with spastic return key. Of course, I do generally like the poetry of Ogden Nash, particularly his "Very Like a Whale." I suppose I like it because it gets to the heart of communication. But be that as it may ...

Last night, someone gave to my wife two boxed volumes of poetry, one of John Keats, and the other of John Donne. Flipping through it last night, I came across one of my favorite sonnets from Donne's collection. It is, to my mind, poetry worthy of thought.

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee;
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou'art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie,' or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then they stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more, Death thou shalt die.

As a side note, it is interesting that three of English literature's greatest poets all lived at the same time: Donne, Edmund Spenser, and William Shakespeare.