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No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.

John Donne

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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
Pastor
Poet
Politician
Songwriter
Translator
Writer
London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Faces
Seasons
Fall
Summer
Spring
Grace
Autumnal
Seen
Equinox
Beauty
September
Face
Autumn
Age
Hath

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Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.
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When my mouth shall be filled with dust, and the worm shall feed, and feed sweetly upon me, when the ambitious man shall have no satisfaction if the poorest alive tread upon him, nor the poorest receive any contentment in being made equal to princes, for they shall be equal but in dust.
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The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral thing both sexes fit, We die and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love.
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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
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If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two, Thy soul the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the other do.
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And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.
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Who are a little wise the best fools be.
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A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat .
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God is so omnipresent. . . . God is an angel in an angel, and a stone in a stone, and a straw in a straw.
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
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Can there be worse sickness, than to know that we are never well, nor can be so?
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There is no health physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
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That soul that can reflect upon itself, consider itself, is more than so.
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So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.
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Death, thou shalt die.
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To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend, All is the purlieu of the god of love.
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In heaven it is always autumn.
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Old grandsires talk of yesterday with sorrow, And for our children we reserve tomorrow.
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