John Donne
John Donne
John Donnewas an English poet and a cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. His works are noted for their strong, sensual style and include sonnets, love poems, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially compared to that of his contemporaries. Donne's style is characterised by abrupt openings and various paradoxes, ironies and dislocations...
actions evil good wicked worse
For good and evil in our actions meet; wicked is not much worse than indiscreet
princes
She is all States, and all Princes, I, / Nothing else is. / Princes do but play us.
licence
Licence my roving hands, and let them goBefore, behind, between, above, below.
shall thy
If yet I have not all thy love, / Dear, I shall never have it all.
catch child falling past
Go, and catch a falling star, / Get with child a mandrake root, / Tell me, where all past years are, / Or who cleft the Devil's foot.
heart love rags
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore, but after one such love can love no more.
batter seek shine three
Batter my heart, three personed God; for you / As yet but knock, breathe, shine and seek to mend.
church himself man
For as every man is a world in himself, so every man is a church in himself
faith fears god hears sees
As he that fears God hears nothing else, so, he that sees God sees every thing else.
bell send thee therefore whom
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee
dream joys
So, if I dream I have you, I have you, / For all our joys are but fantastical.
love thou whom
O, if thou car'st not whom I love alas, thou lov'st not me.
busy call curtains dost motions seasons thou thy unruly
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, / Why dost thou thus, / Through windows, and through curtains call on us? / Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
broke dear dream happy less strong thee theme therefore thou
Dear love, for nothing less than thee / Would I have broke this happy dream, / It was a theme / For reason, much too strong for fantasy, / Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet / My dream thou brok'st not, but continued'st it.