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One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more Death, thou shalt die.

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
Sleep
Dies
Death
Shalt
Past
Eternally
Wake
Thou
Short
Shall

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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
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My love though silly is more brave.
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How many times go we to comedies, to masques, to places of great and noble resort, nay even to church only to see the company.
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Love is a growing, or full constant light And his first minute, after noon, is night.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
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There is no health physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
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Lust-bred diseases rot thee.
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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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Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?
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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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And if there be any addition to knowledge, it is rather a new knowledge than a greater knowledge rather a singularity in a desire of proposing something that was not knownat all beforethananimproving, anadvancing, a multiplying of former inceptions and by that means, no knowledge comes to be perfect.
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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?
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's.
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To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent to a competent I must answer.
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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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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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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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