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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.

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
Hath
Treasure
Joy
Suffering
Enough
Men
Scarce
Affliction

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To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
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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!
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Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?
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My love though silly is more brave.
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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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I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so.
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This Extasie doth unperplex (We said) and tell us what we love, Wee see by this, it was not sexe, Wee see, we saw not what did move: But as all severall soules contain Mixture of things, they know not what, Love, these mixt souls, doth mixe againe. Loves mysteries in soules doe grow, But yet the body is his booke.
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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.
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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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All other things to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay.
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O how feeble is man's power, that if good fortune fall, cannot add another hour, nor a lost hour recall!
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God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.
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As he that fears God fears nothing else, so he that sees God sees everything else.
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But I do nothing upon myself, and yet I am my own executioner.
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That subtle knot which makes us man So must pure lovers souls descend T affections, and to faculties, Which sense may reach and apprehend, Else a great Prince in prison lies.
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In the first minute that my soul is infused, the Image of God is imprinted in my soul so forward is God in my behalf, and so early does he visit me.
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No man is an island, entire of itself every man is a piece of the continent.
John Donne
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
John Donne
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My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest Where can we find two better hemispheres, Without sharp north, without declining west? Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die.
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Kind pity chokes my spleen.
John Donne