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...
pain sleep
Sleep is pain's easiest salve
sleep calling may
Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy glory.
integrity sleep night
Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.
pain sleep office
Sleep is pain's easiest salve, and doth fulfill all the offices of death, except to kill
sleep past dies
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
running sleep doubt
Doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is.
sleep men soul
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
sleep thinking
But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.
life sleep men
Men have conceived a twofold use of sleep; it is a refreshing of the body in this life, and a preparing of the soul for the next.
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.