John Donne

John Donne was an English poet, satirist, lawyer and a cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. Wikipedia

The Good-Morrow

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers’ den? ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. If ever any beauty...

By John Donne
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06 March

“If men be worlds”

If men be worlds, there is in every one Something to answer in proportion All the world’s riches: and in good men, this Virtue, our form’s form, and our soul’s soul, is. John Donne...

By John Donne
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15 February

Death Rebuked

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so, For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much...

By John Donne
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12 October

The Bait

COME live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines and silver hooks. There will the river whisp'ring run Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun ; And there th' enamour'd fish will stay, Begging themselves they...

By John Donne
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15 September

Love’s Growth

I SCARCE believe my love to be so pure As I had thought it was, Because it doth endure Vicissitude, and season, as the grass ; Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore My love was infinite, if spring make it more. But if this medicine, love, which cures all...

By John Donne
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24 August

A Lecture upon the Shadow

STAND still, and I will read to thee A lecture, Love, in Love's philosophy. These three hours that we have spent, Walking here, two shadows went Along with us, which we ourselves produced. But, now the sun is just above our head, We do those shadows tread, And to brave clearness all...

By John Donne
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16 August

Study Me Then, You Who Shall Lovers Be

Study me then, you who shall lovers be At the next world, that is, at the next spring; For I am every dead thing, In whom Love wrought new alchemy. For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull privations, and lean emptiness; He ruin'd me, and I am...

By John Donne
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06 August

The Paradox

NO lover saith, I love, nor any other Can judge a perfect lover ; He thinks that else none can or will agree, That any loves but he ; I cannot say I loved, for who can say He was kill'd yesterday. Love with excess of heat, more young than old, Death...

By John Donne
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04 July