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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.

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
Earth
Trumpets
Imagined
Angels
Round
Rounds
Corners
Blow
Angel

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The day breaks not, it is my heart.
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To a large degree, since the beginning of time, charisma or the lack of it has impacted upon those in quest of acclaim. As media expands, this has become ever more vital. Thus, demeanor if unappealing, can defeat one's likelihood of success, causing the death of prospects whilst they are still embryonic.
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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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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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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
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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.
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Kind pity chokes my spleen.
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Friends are ourselves.
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Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy glory.
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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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That thou remember them, some claim as debt I think it mercy, if thou wilt forget.
John Donne
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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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I shall die reading since my book and a grave are so near.
John Donne
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...Whatever dies was not mixed equally, If our two loves be one Or thou and I love so alike That none can slacken, none can die.
John Donne
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Men are sponges, which, to pour out, receive Who know false play, rather than lose, deceive. For in best understandings sin began, Angels sinn'd first, then devils, and then man. Only perchance beasts sin not wretched we Are beasts in all but white integrity.
John Donne
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My world's both parts, and 'o! Both parts must die.
John Donne
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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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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.
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I have done one braver thing than all the Worthies did, and yet a braver thence doth spring, which is, to keep that hid.
John Donne