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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!

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
Perplexed
Poor
Soul

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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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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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Great sorrows cannot speak.
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Death, thou shalt die.
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
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There is no health physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
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Despair is the damp of hell, as joy is the serenity of heaven.
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Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
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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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No man is an island, entire of itself every man is a piece of the continent.
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That which attempts to elevate the ugly to the level of beauty becomes neither but an obscenity.
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Who are a little wise the best fools be.
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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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