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Take me to you, imprison me, for I, except you enthrall me, never shall be free, nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
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
Free
Ever
Take
Ravish
Never
Imprison
Infatuation
Chaste
Except
Shall
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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
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When I died last, and, Dear, I die As often as from thee I go Though it be but an hour ago, And lovers' hours be full eternity.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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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.
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
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My love though silly is more brave.
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Poor heretics there be,Which think to establish dangerous constancy,But I have told them, ‘Since you will be true,You shall be true to them, who are false to you.
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I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I Did, till we loved? were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures, childishly? Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
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And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?
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Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.
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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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Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
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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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Great sorrows cannot speak.
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. . . Change is the nursery Of musicke, joy, life and eternity.
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The flea, though he kill none, he does all the harm he can.
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Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
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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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The distance from nothing to a little, is ten thousand times more, than from it to the highest degree in this life.
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Be more than man, or thou'rt less than an ant.
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