"No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face."
"At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain."
10 likes
Source: John Donne, John Daniel Thieme (2014). “John Donne Holy Sonnets: with an introduction by John Daniel Thieme”, p.23, Vicarage Hill Press
About the author
Same author
More quotes by John Donne
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee."
"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent."
"Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time."
"Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes."
"Busy old fool, unruly Sun, why dost thou thus through windows and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers seasons run?"