John Donne Quotes

Love was as subtly catched, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, Which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, For though 'tis got by chance,'tis kept by art.
John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. repr. In Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John Hayward (1929). The Expostulation, Elegies (1633). Last lines of poem.
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This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed, and mariage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met, And cloystered in these living walls of Jet.
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Flea (l. 12-15). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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A sinne, nor shame, nor losse of maidenhead,
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Flea (l. 6). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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Whate'er she meant by it, bury it with me, For since I am Love's martyr, it might breed idolatry, If into others' hands these Reliques came; As 'twas humility To afford to it all that a Soul can do, So, 'tis some bravery, That since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Funeral (l. 18-25). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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And now good morrow to our waking souls, Which watch not one another out of fear; For love all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room an everywhere. Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown, Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Good-Morrow (l. 8-14). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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I can love both fair and brown; Her whom abundance melts, and her whom want betrays; Her who loves loneness best, and her who masks and plays; Her whom the country formed, and whom the town; Her who believes, and her who tries; Her who still weeps with spongy eyes; And her who is dry cork, and never cries. I can love her, and her, and you and you, I can love any, so she be not true.
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Indifferent (l. 1-9). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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When I died last, and, dear, I die As often as from thee I go Though it be but an hour ago, And lovers' hours be full eternity.
John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. repr. In Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John Hayward (1929). The Legacy, Songs and Sonnets (1633).
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Let me arrest thy thoughts; wonder with me, Why plowing, building, ruling and the rest, Or most of those arts, whence our lives are blest, By cursed Cain's race invented be, And blest Seth vexed us with Astronomie.
John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. The Progress of the Soul, st. 52.
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Yet, love and hate mee too, So, these extreames shall neithers office doe; Love mee, that I may die the gentler way; Hate mee, because thy love is too great for mee;
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Prohibition (l. 17-20). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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A bracelet of bright hair about the bone, Will he not let us alone, And think that there a loving couple lies Who thought that this device might be some way To make their souls, at the last busy day, Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?
John Donne (1572-1631), British poet. The Relic (l. 5-11). . . The Complete English Poems [John Donne]. A. J. Smith, ed. (1971) Penguin Books.
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