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If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned alas why should I be?

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
Else
Damned
Lecherous
Cannot
Alas
Serpents
Immortal
Minerals
Envy
Goats
Fruit
Poisonous
Whose
Serpent
Tree
Envious
Death
Threw

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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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Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.
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The difference between the reason of man and the instinct of the beast is this, that the beast does but know, but the man knows that he knows.
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Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
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Commemoration of Richard Meux Benson, Founder of the Society of St John the Evangelist, 1915 Our critical day is not the very day of our death, but the whole course of our life I thank him, that prays for me when my bell tolls but I thank him much more, that catechizes me, or preaches to me, or instructs me how to live.
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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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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.
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Oft from new truths, and new phrase, new doubts grow, As strange attire aliens the men we know.
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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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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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Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
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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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I will not look upon the quickening sun, But straight her beauty to my sense shall run The air shall note her soft, the fire most pure Water suggest her clear, and the earth sure Time shall not lose our passages.
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I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
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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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O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
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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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Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls it tolls for thee.
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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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