But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep. John Donne More Quotes by John Donne More Quotes From John Donne Commemoration of John Donne, Priest, Poet, 1631 He was the Word that spake it; He took the bread and brake it; And what that Word did make it I do believe, and take it. John Donne doctrinebreadbelieve Commemoration of Richard Meux Benson, Founder of the Society of St John the Evangelist, 1915 Our critical day is not the very day of our death, but the whole course of our life; I thank him, that prays for me when my bell tolls; but I thank him much more, that catechizes me, or preaches to me, or instructs me how to live. John Donne bellstollslife There is in every miracle a silent chiding of the world, and a tacit reprehension of them who require, or who need miracles. John Donne miracleworldneeds The difference between the reason of man and the instinct of the beast is this, that the beast does but know, but the man knows that he knows. John Donne differencesmenphilosophy Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feign'd deaths to die. John Donne selflovedeath 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? John Donne wonderlovecountry 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. John Donne anniversarycutelove Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harm Nor question much That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm; The mystery, the sign you must not touch, For 'tis my outward soul, Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone, Will leave this to control, And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution. John Donne soulhairheaven I will not look upon the quickening sun, But straight her beauty to my sense shall run; The air shall note her soft, the fire most pure; Water suggest her clear, and the earth sure; Time shall not lose our passages. John Donne firetimerunning At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain. John Donne angelblowwar And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot. John Donne philosophyfatherson Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were John Donne creationcreativitypoetry-is Eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period. John Donne timephilosophyart Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then? John Donne kingswarart If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee. John Donne theeifsdream Here lies a she sun, and a he moon there; She gives the best light to his sphere; Or each is both, and all, and so They unto one another nothing owe; And yet they do, but are So just and rich in that coin which they pay, That neither would, nor needs forbear, nor stay; Neither desires to be spared nor to spare. They quickly pay their debt, and then Take no acquittances, but pay again; They pay, they give, they lend, and so let fall No such occasion to be liberal. More truth, more courage in these two do shine, Than all thy turtles have and sparrows, Valentine. John Donne valentinelyingfall A bride, before a "Good-night" could be said, Should vanish from her clothes into her bed, As souls from bodies steal, and are not spied. But now she's laid; what though she be? Yet there are more delays, for where is he? He comes and passeth through sphere after sphere; First her sheets, then her arms, then anywhere. Let not this day, then, but this night be thine; Thy day was but the eve to this, O Valentine. John Donne valentineclothesgood-night That soul that can reflect upon itself, consider itself, is more than so. John Donne soul Great sins are great possessions; but levities and vanities possess us too; and men had rather part with Christ than with any possession. John Donne vanitysinmen Filled with her love, may I be rather grown Mad with much heart, than idiot with none. John Donne madheartmay
