Section: «Poems»
Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings:
artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.);
a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").
At The Round Earth's Imagin'D Corners
At the round earths imagin'd corners, blowYour trumpets, Angells, and arise, ariseFrom death, you numberlesse infinitiesOf soules, and to your..
© John Donne
Woman's Constancy
Now thou hast loved me one whole day,Tomorrow when thou leav'st, what wilt thou say?Wilt thou then antedate some new-made vow? Or say that nowWe..
© John Donne
Hym To God, My God In My Sickness
Since I am coming to that holy room,Where, with thy choir of saints for evermore,I shall be made thy music; as I comeI tune the instrument here at..
© John Donne
Break Of Day
'Tis true, 'tis day; what though it be?O wilt thou therefore rise from me?Why should we rise, because 'tis light?Did we lie down, because 'twas..
© John Donne
Elegy Xix: To His Mistress Going To Bed
Come, madam, come, all rest my powers defy,Until I labor, I in labor lie.The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,Is tired with standing though he..
© John Donne
Witchcraft By A Picture
I fix mine eye on thine, and therePity my picture burning in thine eye;My picture drowned in a transparent tear,When I look lower I espy.Hadst thou..
© John Donne
Holy Sonnet I: Thou Hast Made Me
Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste;I run to death, and death meets me as fast,And all my..
© John Donne
A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day
'Tis the year's midnight, and it is the day's,Lucy's, who scarce seven hours herself unmasks;The sun is spent, and now his flasksSend forth light..
© John Donne
Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go
Sweetest love, I do not go,For weariness of thee,Nor in hope the world can showA fitter love for me;But since that IMust die at last, 'tis bestTo use..
© John Donne
A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany
In what torn ship soever I embark,That ship shall be my emblem of thy Ark;What sea soever swallow me, that floodShall be to me an emblem of thy..
© John Donne
A Valediction Of Weeping
Let me pour forthMy tears before thy face, whilst I stay here,For thy face coins them, and thy stamp they bear,And by this mintage they are something..
© John Donne
Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud
Death, be not proud, though some have callèd theeMighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrowDie not..
© John Donne
A Lecture Upon The Shadow
Stand still, and I will read to theeA lecture, love, in love's philosophy.These three hours that we have spent,Walking here, two shadows wentAlong..
© John Donne
The Flea
Mark but this flea, and mark in this,How little that which thou deny'st me is;It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,And in this flea, our two bloods..
© John Donne
A Burnt Ship
Out of a fired ship, which by no wayBut drowning could be rescued from the flame,Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they cameNear the foes' ships..
© John Donne
A Fever
Oh do not die, for I shall hateAll women so, when thou art gone,That thee I shall not celebrate,When I remember, thou wast one.But yet thou canst not..
© John Donne
Daybreak
STAY, O sweet and do not rise!The light that shines comes from thine eyes;The day breaks not: it is my heart, Because that you and I must..
© John Donne
Go And Catch A Falling Star
Go and catch a falling star,Get with child a mandrake root,Tell me where all past years are,Or who cleft the devil's foot,Teach me to hear mermaids..
© John Donne
Confined Love
Some man unworthy to be possessorOf old or new love, himself being false or weak,Thought his pain and shame would be lesserIf on womankind he might..
© John Donne
Good Morrow
I wonder, by my truth, what thou and IDid, till we loved; were we not weaned till then,But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?Or snorted we in..
© John Donne
A Lame Beggar
I am unable, yonder beggar cries,To stand, or move; if he say true, he lies.
© John Donne
Air And Angels
Twice or thrice had I loved thee,Before I knew thy face or name;So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame,Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be;Still..
© John Donne
The Sun Rising
Busy old fool, unruly Sun,Why dost thou thus,Through windows, and through curtains, call onus?Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?Saucy pedantic..
© John Donne
A Hymn To God The Father
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,Which was my sin, though it were done before?Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,And do run..
© John Donne
For Whom The Bell Tolls
PERCHANCE he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill, as that heknows not it tolls for him; and perchance I may think myself somuch better than I am..
© John Donne