The Good-Morrow By John Donne

The Good-Morrow By John Donne I wonder, by my troth, what thou and IDid, 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 I did see,Which I desired, and got, ’twas but a […]

The Flea By John Donne

The Flea By John Donne Mark but this flea, and mark in this,How little that which thou deny’st me is;It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be;Thou knowest that this cannot be saidA sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead.Yet this enjoys before it woo,And pampered, swells […]

A Hymn to God the Father By John Donne

A Hymn to God the Father By John Donne Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,         Which was my sin, though it were done before?Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,         And do run still, though still I do deplore?                When thou hast done, thou hast not done,                        For I have more. Wilt thou forgive that […]

Death Be Not Proud By John Donne

Death Be Not Proud By John Donne Death be not proud, though some have called theeMighty 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 […]

The Sun Rising By John Donne

The Sun Rising By John Donne   Busy old fool, unruly sun,               Why dost thou thus,Through windows, and through curtains call on us?Must to thy motions lovers’ seasons run?               Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide               Late school boys and sour prentices,         Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride,         Call country ants to harvest offices,Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,Nor […]

The Apparition By John Donne

The Apparition By John Donne When by thy scorn, O murd’ress, I am dead         And that thou think’st thee freeFrom all solicitation from me,Then shall my ghost come to thy bed,And thee, feign’d vestal, in worse arms shall see;Then thy sick taper will begin to wink,And he, whose thou art then, being tir’d before,Will, if thou […]

No Man is an Island By John Donne

No Man Is An Island By John Donne No man is an island,Entire of itself,Every man is a piece of the continent,A part of the main.If a clod be washed away by the sea,Europe is the less.As well as if a promontory were.As well as if a manor of thy friend’sOr of thine own were:Any […]

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning By John Donne

A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning By John Donne As virtuous men pass mildly away,   And whisper to their souls to go,Whilst some of their sad friends do say,   “The breath goes now,” and some say, “No,” So let us melt, and make no noise,   No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move;‘Twere profanation of our joys   To tell the […]

Holy Sonnet 10: Death Be Not Proud By John Donne

Holy Sonnet 10: Death Be Not Proud By John Donne Death, be not proud, though some have called theeMighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrowDie not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,Much pleasure; then from thee much […]