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").
To The Earl Of Doncaster
SEE, sir, how, as the sun's hot masculine flameBegets strange creatures on Nile's dirty slime,In me your fatherly yet lusty rhyme—For these songs are..
© John Donne
To Mr. Tilman After He Had Taken Orders
THOU, whose diviner soul hath caused thee nowTo put thy hand unto the holy plough,Making lay-scornings of the ministryNot an impediment, but victory..
© John Donne
Mercurius Gallo-Belgicus
Like Esop's fellow-slaves, O Mercury,Which could do all things, thy faith is ; and ILike Esop's self, which nothing. I confessI should have had more..
© John Donne
Translated Out Of Gazaeus,
GOD grant thee thine own wish, and grant thee mine,Thou who dost, best friend, in best things outshine ;May thy soul, ever cheerful, ne'er know..
© John Donne
To Sir Henry Wotton Ii
HERE'S no more news than virtue ; I may as wellTell you Calais, or Saint Michael's tales, as tellThat vice doth here habitually dwell.Yet as, to get..
© John Donne
Raderus
Why this man gelded Martial I muse,Except himself alone his tricks would use,As Katherine, for the court's sake, put down stews.
© John Donne
Klockius
Klockius so deeply hath sworn ne'er more to comeIn bawdy house, that he dares not go home.
© John Donne
To Mr. Samuel Brooke
O THOU which to search out the secret partsOf the India, or rather ParadiseOf knowledge, hast with courage and adviceLately launch'd into the vast..
© John Donne
Holy Sonnet Xi: Spit In My Face You Jews, And Pierce My Side
Spit in my face you Jews, and pierce my side,Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me,For I have sinned, and sinned, and only heWho could do no..
© John Donne
To Mr. I. P.
BLEST are your north parts, for all this long timeMy sun is with you ; cold and dark's our clime ;Heaven's sun, which stay'd so long from us this..
© John Donne
To Mr.T.W.
PREGNANT again with th' old twins, Hope and Fear,Oft have I asked for thee, both how and whereThou wert ; and what my hopes of letters were ;As in..
© John Donne
Satire V
Thou shalt not laugh in this leafe, Muse, nor theyWhom any pity warmes; He which did layRules to make Courtiers, (hee being understoodMay make good..
© John Donne
Ralphius
Compassion in the world again is bred ;Ralphius is sick, the broker keeps his bed.
© John Donne
To The Countess Of Bedford Ii
TO have written then, when you writ, seem'd to meWorst of spiritual vices, simony ;And not to have written then seems little lessThan worst of civil..
© John Donne
To The Praise Of The Dead And The Anatomy
VVEll dy'de the World, that we might liue to seeThis World of wit, in his Anatomee:No euill wants his good: so wilder heyres;Bedew their Fathers..
© John Donne
Satire Ii
Sir; though (I thanke God for it) I do hatePerfectly all this towne, yet there's one stateIn all ill things so excellently best,That hate, towards..
© John Donne
To Mr. Rowland Woodward
LIKE one who in her third widowhood doth professHerself a nun, tied to retiredness,So affects my Muse, now, a chaste fallowness.Since she to few, yet..
© John Donne
To Mr.I.L.
OF that short roll of friends writ in my heart,Which with thy name begins, since their depart,Whether in th' English provinces they be,Or drink of..
© John Donne
To The Lady Magdalen Herbert, Of St. Mary Magdalen
HER of your name, whose fair inheritanceBethina was, and jointure Magdalo,An active faith so highly did advance,That she once knew, more than the..
© John Donne
Upon The Translation Of The Psalms By Sir Philip Sidney And The Countess Of Pembroke, His Sister
ETERNAL God—for whom who ever dareSeek new expressions, do the circle square,And thrust into straight corners of poor witThee, who art cornerless and..
© John Donne
Epithalamion Made At Lincoln's Inn
IHAIL sun-beams in the east are spread ;Leave, leave, fair bride, your solitary bed ;No more shall you return to it alone ;It nurseth sadness, and..
© John Donne
To Sir Henry Wotton At His Going Ambassador To Venice
AFTER those reverend papers, whose soul isOur good and great king's loved hand and fear'd name ;By which to you he derives much of his,And, how he..
© John Donne
Temple
With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe,Joseph, turn back ; see where your child doth sit,Blowing, yea blowing out those sparks of wit,Which..
© John Donne
To The Countess Of Bedford I
MADAM—Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right ;By these we reach divinity, that's you ;Their loves, who have the blessing of your light,Grew..
© John Donne
Elegy Xii
COME Fates ; I fear you not ! All whom I oweAre paid, but you ; then 'rest me ere I go.But Chance from you all sovereignty hath got ;Love woundeth..
© John Donne