John Donne

John Donne
John Donnewas an English poet and a cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. His works are noted for their strong, sensual style and include sonnets, love poems, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially compared to that of his contemporaries. Donne's style is characterised by abrupt openings and various paradoxes, ironies and dislocations...
exercise air long
We study health, and we deliberate upon our meats and drink and air and exercises, and we hew and we polish every stone that goes to that building; and so our health is a long and regular work. But in a minute a cannon batters all, overthrows all, demolishes all; a sickness unprevented for all our diligence, unsuspected for all our curiosity, nay, undeserved, if we consider only disorder, summons us, seizes us, possesses us, destroys us in an instant.
love long ghost
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.
long eternity flux
Eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period.
time long eternity
If we consider eternity, into that time never entered; eternity is not an everlasting flux of time, but time is as a short parenthesis in a long period; and eternity had been the same as it is, though time had never been.
eye home long
Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee.
love-is great-love long
How great love is, presence best trial makes, But absence tries how long this love will be.
balm earth general hath sap
The world's whole sap is sunk: / The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk.
Be your own palace, or the world is your jail.
both break ghost happiest last selves sucks thou turn
So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, / Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away,/ Turn thou ghost that way, and let me turn this, / And let our selves benight our happiest day.
goes propose sea sick true whoever
Whoever loves, if he do not propose the right true end of love, he's one that goes to sea for nothing but to make him sick
crowns harm nor question shroud subtle
Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harm / Nor question much / That subtle wreath of hair, which crowns my arm.
almost blood body eloquent might pure spoke
Her pure and eloquent blood / Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, / That one might almost say, her body thought.
current except money nature nearer treasure
Tribulation is treasure in the nature of it, but it is not current money in the use of it, except we get nearer and nearer our home, heaven, by it.
busy call curtains dost motions seasons thou thy unruly
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, / Why dost thou thus, / Through windows, and through curtains call on us? / Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?