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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.

John Donne

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John Donne
Died: 1631
Died: March 31
Lawyer
Pastor
Poet
Politician
Songwriter
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London
England
Very Rev. John Donne
Twice
Faces
Thee
Voice
Angel
Shapeless
Love
Loved
Thrice
Name
Flame
Knew
Affect
Flames
Names
Angels
Face

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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.
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Commemoration of Pandita Mary Ramabai, Translator of the Scriptures, 1922 A memory of yesterday's pleasures, a fear of tomorrow's dangers, a straw under my knees, a noise in my ear, a light in my eye, an anything, a nothing, a fancy, a chimera in my brain, troubles me in my prayers.
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I count all that part of my life lost which I spent not in communion with God, or in doing good.
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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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I shall not live 'till I see God and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.
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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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If every gnat that flies were an archangel, all that could but tell me that there is a God and the poorest worm that creeps tells me that.
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But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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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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The day breaks not, it is my heart.
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Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
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As God loves a cheerful giver, so he also loves a cheerful taker. Who takes hold of his gifts with a glad heart.
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Great sorrows cannot speak.
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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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God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath.
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So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us often.
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Verse hath a middle nature: heaven keeps souls, The grave keeps bodies, verse the fame enrols.
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Man hath weaved out a net, and this net throwne upon the Heavens, and now they are his own.
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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
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