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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
Live
Sand
Sands
Come
Silver
Crystal
Heart
Golden
Anniversary
Love
Prove
Brooks
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Marriage
Hook
Lines
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Hooks

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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.
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There is no health physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
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Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.
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Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock breathe, shine, and seek to mend That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
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But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.
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I shall not live 'till I see God and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.
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If we consider eternity, into that time never entered eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.
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When God's hand is bent to strike, it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God but to fall out of the hands of the living God is a horror beyond our expression, beyond our imagination.
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And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
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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?
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What gnashing is not a comfort, what gnawing of the worm is not a tickling, what torment is not a marriage bed to this damnation, to be secluded eternally, eternally, eternally from the sight of God?
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Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?
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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.
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If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
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That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither but an obscenity.
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And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
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The rich have no more of the kingdom of heaven than they have purchased of the poor by their alms.
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It is too little to call man a little world Except God, man is a diminutive to nothing.
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