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Love is a growing, or full constant light And his first minute, after noon, is night.

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
Firsts
Noon
First
Minute
Love
Constant
Minutes
Full
Growing
Night
Light

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Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?
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Enjoyment always has a spoiling, otherwise it cannot be so.
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Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone.
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Great sorrows cannot speak.
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Old grandsires talk of yesterday with sorrow, And for our children we reserve tomorrow.
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But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.
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Festive alcohol sometimes leads to an excess of honesty.
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Pleasure is none, if not diversified.
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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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...Whatever dies was not mixed equally, If our two loves be one Or thou and I love so alike That none can slacken, none can die.
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To roam Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.
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If every gnat that flies were an archangel, all that could but tell me that there is a God and the poorest worm that creeps tells me that.
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At the round earth's imagined corners, blow your trumpets, angels.
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That soul that can reflect upon itself, consider itself, is more than so.
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All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
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Who are a little wise the best fools be.
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And swear No where Lives a woman true, and fair.
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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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To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent to a competent I must answer.
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This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.
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