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There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.

John Donne

To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.
JOHN DONNE

Body One Liner Worth
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
JOHN DONNE

Kiss Letter Soul
Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.
JOHN DONNE

Art Build Creation Poetry
One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And Death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
JOHN DONNE

Death Forever Past Short Sleep Wake Up
Love was as subtly caught, as a disease; But being got it is a treasure sweet, which to defend is harder than to get: And ought not be profaned on either part, for though ‘Tis got by chance, ‘Tis kept by art.
JOHN DONNE

Art Hard Love Sick Sweet Treasure
Ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
JOHN DONNE

Bell God
Poor intricated soul! Riddling, perplexed, labyrinthical soul!
JOHN DONNE

Confusion Poor Soul
Licence my roving hands, and let them go Before, behind, between, above, below.
JOHN DONNE

Hands Let Go
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
JOHN DONNE

God Need Stand Suffering Thinking
I throw myself down in my chamber, and I call in, and invite God, and his Angels thither, and when they are there, I neglect God and his Angels, for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
JOHN DONNE

Angel Animal God Invitation Myself Noise Sound
Be more than man, or thou’rt less than an ant.
JOHN DONNE

Animal Man Worth Yourself
How imperfect is all our knowledge!
JOHN DONNE

Knowledge Ourselves Perfection
Solitude is a torment which is not threatened in hell itself.
JOHN DONNE

Hell Solitude Threat
Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
JOHN DONNE

Break Breathe Force God Heart Myself Rise Seek
Love’s mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
JOHN DONNE

Body Book Grow Love Mystery Soul
To know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.
JOHN DONNE

Expression Feeling Grave Human Thinking Word

There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.

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There is nothing that God hath established in a constant course of nature, and which therefore is done every day, but would seem a Miracle, and exercise our admiration, if it were done but once.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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