To John Donne

Related poetry:

1. To Lucy, Countess of Bedford, with John Donne's Satires Lucy, you brightness of our sphere, who are Life of the Muses’ day, their morning star! If works, not th’ author’s, their own grace should look, Whose poems would not wish to be your book? But these, desir’d by you, the maker’s ends Crown with their own. Rare poems ask rare friends. Yet satires, since […]...
2. Tu m'as donnè une arme Poem by Anne-Marie Derése. Tu m’as donnè une arme Dans le troupeau humain, Tu as lancè tes mots Commes des pierres. Les blessures furent Bonnes lècher. Tu as rèveillè le feulement. Tu t’es donnè comme on prend....
3. John Donne – The Paradox No Lover saith, I love, nor any other Can judge a perfect Lover; Hee thinkes that else none can, nor will agree That any loves but hee; I cannot say I’lov’d. for who can say Hee was kill’d yesterday? Lover withh excesse of heat, more yong than old, Death kills with too much cold; Wee […]...
4. On Donne's Poetry ”With Donne, whose muse on dromedary trots, Wreathe iron pokers into true-love knots ; Rhyme’s sturdy cripple, fancy’s maze and clue, Wit’s forge and fire-blast, meaning’s press and screw.”...
5. John Gorham “Tell me what you’re doing over here, John Gorham, Sighing hard and seeming to be sorry when you’re not; Make me laugh or let me go now, for long faces in the moonlight Are a sign for me to say again a word that you forgot.”- “I’m over here to tell you what the moon […]...
6. Of Such Simplicity You and me, The proof is there to see, Our lives are held within the spell of great simplicity, We’re free of all the shadows dwelling in the hall, Seen in awe like pretty pictures hanging on the wall; Was it meant to be, intentionally, Of such simplicity? The pace of Life Is not predictably […]...
7. Mine Own John Poynz Mine own John Poynz, since ye delight to know The cause why that homeward I me draw, And flee the press of courts, whereso they go, Rather than to live thrall under the awe Of lordly looks, wrappèd within my cloak, To will and lust learning to set a law: It is not for because […]...
8. An Elegy upon the Death of the Dean of St. Paul's, Dr. John Can we not force from widow’d poetry, Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy To crown thy hearse? Why yet dare we not trust, Though with unkneaded dough-bak’d prose, thy dust, Such as th’ unscissor’d churchman from the flower Of fading rhetoric, short-liv’d as his hour, Dry as the sand that measures it, should […]...
9. The Vanquished Knight I HAVE left all upon the shameful field, Honour and Hope, my God, and all but life; Spurless, with sword reversed and dinted shield, Degraded and disgraced, I leave the strife. From him that hath not, shall there not be taken E’en that he hath, when he deserts the strife? Life left by all life’s […]...
10. Faith Since all that is was ever bound to be; Since grim, eternal laws our Being bind; And both the riddle and the answer find, And both the carnage and the calm decree; Since plain within the Book of Destiny Is written all the journey of mankind Inexorably to the end; since blind And mortal puppets […]...
11. To A Young Beauty Dear fellow-artist, why so free With every sort of company, With every Jack and Jill? Choose your companions from the best; Who draws a bucket with the rest Soon topples down the hill. You may, that mirror for a school, Be passionate, not bountiful As common beauties may, Who were not born to keep in […]...
12. The Ships of Saint John Where are the ships I used to know, That came to port on the Fundy tide Half a century ago, In beauty and stately pride? In they would come past the beacon light, With the sun on gleaming sail and spar, Folding their wings like birds in flight From countries strange and far. Schooner and […]...
13. For John Clare Kind of empty in the way it sees everything, the earth gets to its feet andsalutes the sky. More of a success at it this time than most others it is. The feeling that the sky might be in the back of someone’s mind. Then there is no telling how many there are. They grace […]...
14. To England There are no postage stamps that send letters Back to England three centuries ago, No postage stamps that make letters Travel back until the grave hasn’t been dug yet, And John Donne stands looking out the window, It is just beginning to rain this April morning, And the birds are falling into the trees Like […]...
15. A Ballad of John Nicholson It fell in the year of Mutiny, At darkest of the night, John Nicholson by Jalбndhar came, On his way to Delhi fight. And as he by Jalбndhar came, He thought what he must do, And he sent to the Rajah fair greeting, To try if he were true. “God grant your Highness length of […]...
16. 70. Epistle to the Rev. John M'Math WHILE at the stook the shearers cow’r To shun the bitter blaudin’ show’r, Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour In idle rhyme. My musie, tir’d wi’ mony a sonnet On gown, an’ ban’, an’ douse black bonnet, Is grown right eerie now she’s done it, Lest […]...
17. The Monster When we might make with happy heart This world a paradise, With bombs we blast brave men apart, With napalm carbonize. Where we might till the sunny soil, And sing for joy of life, We spend our treasure and our toil In bloody strife. The fields of wheat are sheening gold, The flocks have silver […]...
18. The Verdicts Not in the thick of the fight, Not in the press of the odds, Do the heroes come to their height, Or we know the demi-gods. That stands over till peace. We can only perceive Men returned from the seas, Very grateful for leave. They grant us sudden days Snatched from their business of war; […]...
19. A PARANAETICALL, OR ADVISIVE VERSETO HIS FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKS Is this a life, to break thy sleep, To rise as soon as day doth peep? To tire thy patient ox or ass By noon, and let thy good days pass, Not knowing this, that Jove decrees Some mirth, t’ adulce man’s miseries? No; ’tis a life to have thine oil Without extortion from thy […]...
20. Adonais: An Elegy on the Death of John Keats I weep for Adonais he is dead! Oh, weep for Adonais! though our tears Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head! And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers, And teach them thine own sorrow, say: “With me Died Adonais; till the Future dares […]...
21. 67. Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs, Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an’ looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues May seize you quick. Poor gapin’, glowrin’ Superstition! Wae’s me, she’s in a sad condition: Fye: bring Black Jock, 1 her state physician, To see her water; Alas, […]...
22. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
23. To John Hamilton Reynolds O that a week could be an age, and we Felt parting and warm meeting every week, Then one poor year a thousand years would be, The flush of welcome ever on the cheek: So could we live long life in little space, So time itself would be annihilate, So a day’s journey in oblivious […]...
24. To John Keats Great master! Boyish, sympathetic man! Whose orbed and ripened genius lightly hung From life’s slim, twisted tendril and there swung In crimson-sphered completeness; guardian Of crystal portals through whose openings fan The spiced winds which blew when earth was young, Scattering wreaths of stars, as Jove once flung A golden shower from heights cerulean. Crumbled […]...
25. AN EVENING WITH JOHN HEATH-STUBBS Alone in Sutton with Fynbos my orange cat A long weekend of wind and rain drowning The tumultuous flurry of mid-February blossom A surfeit of letters to work through, a mountain Of files to sort, some irritation at the thought Of travelling to Kentish Town alone when My mind was flooded with the mellifluous voice […]...
26. John Hancock Otis As to democracy, fellow citizens, Are you not prepared to admit That I, who inherited riches and was to the manor born, Was second to none in Spoon River In my devotion to the cause of Liberty? While my contemporary, Anthony Findlay, Born in a shanty and beginning life As a water carrier to the […]...
27. If You are a Man If you are a man, and believe in the destiny of mankind Then say to yourself: we will cease to care About property and money and mechanical devices, And open our consciousness to the deep, mysterious life That we are now cut off from. The machine shall be abolished from the earth again; It is […]...
28. HIS AGE:DEDICATED TO HIS PECULIAR FRIEND, MR JOHN WICKES, UNDER THE NAME OFPOSTUMUS Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle from the brow; But we must on, As fate does lead or draw us; none, None, Posthumus, could e’er decline The doom of cruel Proserpine. The pleasing wife, the house, the ground Must all be […]...
29. On John Dawson, Butler Of C. C Dawson the Butler’s dead: Although I think Poets were ne’er infusde with single drinke Ile spend a farthing muse; some watry verse Will serve the turne to cast upon his hearse; If any cannot weepe amongst us here Take off his pott, and so squeeze out a tear: Weepe, O his cheeses, weepe till yee […]...
30. John Brown Though for your sake I would not have you now So near to me tonight as now you are, God knows how much a stranger to my heart Was any cold word that I may have written; And you, poor woman that I made my wife, You have had more of loneliness, I fear, Than […]...
31. John Rouat the Fisherman Margaret Simpson was the daughter of humble parents in the county of Ayr, With a comely figure, and face of beauty rare, And just in the full bloom of her womanhood, Was united to John Rouat, a fisherman good. John’s fortune consisted of his coble, three oars, and his fishing-gear, Besides his two stout boys, […]...
32. 347. Song-Ye Jacobites by Name YE Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear, Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, Ye Jacobites by name, Your fautes I will proclaim, Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear. What is Right, and What is Wrang, by the law, by the law? What is Right and what is Wrang by […]...
33. 26. John Barleycorn: A Ballad THERE was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and plough’d him down, Put clods upon his head, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn was dead. But the cheerful Spring came kindly on, […]...
34. John Barleycorn There were three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, An’ they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and ploughed him down, Put clods upon his head; An’ they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn was dead. But the cheerfu’ spring came kindly on, […]...
35. 350. Epistle to John Maxwell, Esq., of Terraughty HEALTH to the Maxwell’s veteran Chief! Health, aye unsour’d by care or grief: Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl leaf, This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o’ prief, Scarce quite half-worn. This day thou metes threescore eleven, And I can tell that bounteous Heaven (The second-sight, ye ken, is given To ilka Poet) […]...
36. The House of Prayer (Mark, xi.17) Thy mansion is the Christian’s heart, O Lord, Thy dwelling place secure! Bid the unruly throng depart, And leave the consecrated door. Devoted as it is to Thee, A thievish swarm frequents the place, They steal away my hopes from me, And rob my Saviour of His praise. There, too, a sharp designing […]...
37. My Will I’ve made my Will. I don’t believe In luxury and wealth; And to those loving ones who grieve My age and frailing health I give the meed to soothe their ways That they may happy be, And pass serenely all their days In snug security. That duty done, I leave behind The all I have […]...
38. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
39. Travels With John Hunter We who travel between worlds Lose our muscle and bone. I was wheeling a barrow of earth When agony bayoneted me. I could not sit, or lie down, Or stand, in Casualty. Stomach-calming clay caked my lips, I turned yellow as the moon And slid inside a CAT-scan wheel In a hospital where I met […]...
40. An Epitaph On Sr John Walter, Lord Cheife Baron Farewell Example, Living Rule farewell; Whose practise shew’d goodness was possible, Who reach’d the full outstretch’d perfection Of Man, of Lawyer, and of Christian. Suppose a Man more streight than Reason is, Whose grounded Habit could not tread amisse Though Reason slepd; a Man who still esteem’d His wife his Bone; who still his children […]...