Quote

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.

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
Death
Souls
Imagined
Earth
Blow
Hath
Soul
Despair
Angels
Dearth
Angel
Tyranny
Tyrannies
Law
Round
Numberless
Age
Rounds
Slain
Chance
Corners
Trumpets
War
Arise
Infinity

More quotes by John Donne

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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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To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
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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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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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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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Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
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Lust-bred diseases rot thee.
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Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie Flat on this bed.
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Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.
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As states subsist in part by keeping their weaknesses from being known, so is it the quiet of families to have their chancery and their parliament within doors, and to compose and determine all emergent differences there.
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When God's hand is bent to strike, it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God but to fall out of the hands of the living God is a horror beyond our expression, beyond our imagination.
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God made sun and moon to distinguish the seasons, and day and night and we cannot have the fruits of the earth but in their seasons. But God hath made no decrees to distinguish the seasons of His mercies. In Paradise the fruits were ripe the first minute, and in heaven it is always autumn. His mercies are ever in their maturity.
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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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Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so. For, those, whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow. Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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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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Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?
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Death, thou shalt die.
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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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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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