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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
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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
Pastor
Poet
Politician
Songwriter
Translator
Writer
London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Pleasure
Cute
Hooks
Live
Sand
Sands
Come
Silver
Crystal
Heart
Golden
Anniversary
Love
Prove
Brooks
Couple
Crystals
Marriage
Hook
Lines
Pleasures
Silken
More quotes by John Donne
There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.
John Donne
In heaven it is always autumn.
John Donne
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
John Donne
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
Who are a little wise the best fools be.
John Donne
Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
John Donne
My love though silly is more brave.
John Donne
As God loves a cheerful giver, so he also loves a cheerful taker. Who takes hold of his gifts with a glad heart.
John Donne
To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
John Donne
Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
John Donne
Let me arrest thy thoughts, wonder with me, Why ploughing, building, ruling and the rest, Or most of those arts, whence our lives are blessed, By cursed Cain's race invented be, And blessed Seth vexed us with astronomy.
John Donne
Eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period.
John Donne
I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.
John Donne
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
John Donne
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
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
Twice or thrice had I loved thee before I knew thy face or name, so in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, angels affect us oft, and worshiped be.
John Donne
That thou remember them, some claim as debt I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.
John Donne
Between these two, the denying of sins, which we have done, and the bragging of sins, which we have not done, what a space, what a compass is there, for millions of millions of sins!
John Donne
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
John Donne