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John Donne

John Donne

John Donne was an English poet, preacher and a major representative of the metaphysical poets of the period. His works are notable for their realistic and sensual style and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially as compared to that of his contemporaries.

Despite his great education and poetic talents, he lived in poverty for several years, relying heavily on wealthy friends. In 1615 he became an Anglican priest and, in 1621, was appointed the Dean of St Paul's Cathedral in London.
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OK,’ they say: ‘things have been bad. They may be bad again; they may not. In the meantime, let’s take heart with the day. Let’s begin again and see what happens.
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Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
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Changed loves are but changed sorts of meat, And when he hath the kernel eat, Who doth not fling away the shell?
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If I were but mere dust and ashes I might speak unto the Lord, for the Lord's hand made me of this dust, and the Lord's hand shall re-collect these ashes; the Lord's hand was the wheel upon which this vessel of clay was framed, and the Lord's hand is the urn in which these ashes shall be preserved. I am the dust and the ashes of the temple of the Holy Ghost, and what marble is so precious? But I am more than dust and ashes: I am my best part, I am my soul. And being so, the breath of God, I may breathe back these pious expostulations to my God:
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Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt Thou forgive that sin through which I run, And do run still, though still I do deplore? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, For I have more. "Wilt Thou forgive that sin, which I have won Others to sin, and made my sin their door? Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun A year or two:—but wallow'd in a score? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done, For I have more. "I have a sin of fear, that when I've spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son Shall shine as He shines now, and heretofore; And having done that, Thou hast done, I fear no more.
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I am the dust and the ashes of the temple of the Holy Ghost, and what marble is so precious? But I am more than dust and ashes: I am my best part, I am my soul.
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I think it mercy if Thou wilt forget.
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I Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt thou forgive that sin, though which I run, And do run still: though still I do deplore? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For, I have more. II Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won Others to sin? And, made my sin their door? Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun A year, or two: but wallowed in, a score? When thou hast done, thou hast not done, For I have more. III I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by thy self, that at my death thy son Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore; And, having done that, thou hast done, I fear no more.
topics: self , sin  
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No man is an island.
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That our affections kill us not, nor dye.
topics: affection , love , passion  
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Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.
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It sucked me first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
topics: the-flea  
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Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone, All just supply, and all relation; Prince, subject, father, son, are things forgot, For every man alone thinks he hath got To be a phoenix, and that then can be None of that kind, of which he is, but he.
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Του κάθε ανθρώπου ο θάνατος, εμένα λιγοστεύει.
topics: death  
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Love is a golden bubble full of dreams, That waking breaks, and fills us with extremes. ---From “Hero and Leander, Sestiad III
topics: extremes , love  
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She is all states, and all princes, I. Nothing else is.
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Thou, sun, art half as happy as we.
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Hee that hath all can have no more
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O miserable condition of man, which is not imprinted by God, who, as he is immortal himself, had put a coal, a beam of immortality into us, which we might have blown into a flame, but blew it by our first sin; we beggared ourselves by hearkening after falses riches, and infatuated ourselves by hearkening after false knowledge.
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The force of originality “that made Donne so potent an influence in the seventeenth century makes him now at once for us, without his being the less felt as of his period, contemporary—obviously a living poet in the most important sense.” In “The Good-Morrow” Leavis said that
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