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Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.

John Donne

All occasions invite His mercies, and all times are His seasons.
JOHN DONNE

Invitation Mercy Occasion Sesaon Time
I do not love a man, except I hate his vices, because those vices are the enemies, and the destruction of that friend whom I love.
JOHN DONNE

Enemy Exception Friendship God Love Man Myself Vice
God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
JOHN DONNE

God Justice Pieces Sick Translation War
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
Nature hath no goal though she hath law.
JOHN DONNE

Goal Law Nature
If I dream I have you, I have you, for all our joys are but fantastical.
JOHN DONNE

Dreams Fantasy God Joy Myself Relationship
No man is an island unto himself.
JOHN DONNE

Himself Island Man
O Lord, never suffer us to think that we can stand by ourselves, and not need thee.
JOHN DONNE

God Need Stand Suffering Thinking
Love’s mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
JOHN DONNE

Body Book Grow Love Mystery Soul
What if this present were the world’s last night?
JOHN DONNE

End Night Present World
Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
JOHN DONNE

Gold Hands Happiness Live Love Silver
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.
JOHN DONNE

Forever Parents Short Time
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
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
Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
JOHN DONNE

Death Deep Equality Philosophy Spiritual Wisdom
I sing the progress of a deathless soul.
JOHN DONNE

Death Myself One Liner Progress Sing Soul
Art is the most passionate orgy within man’s grasp.
JOHN DONNE

Art Compassionate Hold Man
For love all love of other sights controls and makes one little room an everywhere.
JOHN DONNE

Control Love Oneself Room
Only our love hath no decay; this, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, running it never runs from us away, but truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day.
JOHN DONNE

Love Ourselves Run True
I am a little world made cunningly.
JOHN DONNE

Build Myself One Liner World
Our critical day is not the very day of our death; but the whole course of our life.
JOHN DONNE

Criticism Death Life Ourselves
Full nakedness! All my joys are due to thee, as souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be, to taste whole joys.
JOHN DONNE

Body Clothes Joy Naked Soul Taste
Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
JOHN DONNE

Love Season Time
True joy is the earnest which we have of heaven, it is the treasure of the soul, and therefore should be laid in a safe place, and nothing in this world is safe to place it in.
JOHN DONNE

Heaven Joy Place Safety True World
We give each other a smile with a future in it.
JOHN DONNE

Each Other Future One Liner
When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.
JOHN DONNE

Better Book Death Language Man Translation
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I Did, till we lov’d?
JOHN DONNE

Life Love Myself Wonder

Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.

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Poetry is a counterfeit creation, and makes things that are not, as though they were.

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