“This is joy's bonfire, then, where love's strong arts Make of so noble individual parts One fire of four inflaming eyes, and… — John Donne Copy Share Image
We can die by it, if not live by love, And if unfit for tombs and hearse Our legend be, it will… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Death be not proud, though some have called thee mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so.” — John Donne Copy Share Image
“ Death Be Not Proud Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were — John Donne Copy Share Image
“My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares, And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest, Where can we finde… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Grief brought to numbers cannot be so fierce, For, he tames it, that fetters it in verse.” — John Donne Copy Share Image
“If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.” — John Donne Copy Share Image
“How blest am I in this discovering thee! To enter in these bonds is to be free; Then where my hand is… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“At the round earth's imagined corners blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to… — John Donne Copy Share Image
I am two fools, I know, for loving, and for saying so in whining poetry. — John Donne Copy Share Image
Commemoration of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 He was the Word that spake it; He took the bread and brake it; And… — John Donne Copy Share Image
“ The Good-Morrow I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then?… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Verse hath a middle nature: heaven keeps souls, The grave keeps bodies, verse the fame enrols. — John Donne Copy Share Image
“I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry; But where's that wiseman, that would not… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life. — John Donne Copy Share Image
All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but… — John Donne Copy Share Image
We study health, and we deliberate upon our meats and drink and air and exercises, and we hew and we polish every stone that… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my… — John Donne Copy Share Image
Various content To your eyes, ears, and tongue, and every part. If then your body go, what need you a heart? — John Donne Copy Share Image
“Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ; That I may rise,… — John Donne Copy Share Image
That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither; but an obscenity. — John Donne Copy Share Image
For I am every dead thing In whom love wrought new alchemy For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull… — John Donne Copy Share Image
As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and… — John Donne Copy Share Image
All Kings, and all their favorites, All glory of honors, beauties, wits, The sun itself, which makes times, as they pass, Is elder by… — John Donne Copy Share Image
