Poetry
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The Anniversary by John Donne
ALL kings, and all their favourites,All glory of honours, beauties, wits,The sun it self, which makes time, as they pass,Is…
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The Apparition by John Donne
WHEN by thy scorn, O murd’ress, I am dead,And that thou thinkst thee freeFrom all solicitation from me,Then shall my…
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The Bait by John Donne
COME live with me, and be my love,And we will some new pleasures proveOf golden sands, and crystal brooks,With silken…
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The Blossom by John Donne
LITTLE think’st thou, poor flower,Whom I’ve watch’d six or seven days,And seen thy birth, and seen what every hourGave to…
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The Broken Heart by John Donne
He is stark mad, whoever says,That he hath been in love an hour,Yet not that love so soon decays,But that…
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The Canonization by John Donne
FOR God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love;Or chide my palsy, or my gout;My five gray hairs, or…
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The Computation by John Donne
For my first twenty years, since yesterday,I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;For forty more I fed on favours…
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The Curse by John Donne
WHOEVER guesses, thinks, or dreams, he knowsWho is my mistress, wither by this curse;Him, only for his purseMay some dull…
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The Damp by John Donne
WHEN I am dead, and doctors know not why,And my friends’ curiosityWill have me cut up to survey each part,When…
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The Dissolution by John Donne
SHE’s dead; and all which dieTo their first elements resolve;And we were mutual elements to us,And made of one another.My…
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