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John Donne's Poetry, by first line

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  • Where, like a pillow on a bed
    A pregnant bank swell'd up to rest
    77 lines, 1 comment
  • Stand still, and I will read to thee
    A lecture, love, in love's philosophy.
    26 lines
  • As virtuous men pass mildly away,
    And whisper to their souls, to go,
    36 lines, 6 comments
  • When my grave is broke up again
    Some second guest to entertain,
    33 lines
  • Some that have deeper digg'd love's mine than I,
    Say, where his centric happiness doth lie;
    24 lines
  • Here take my picture; though I bid farewell
    Thine, in my heart, where my soul dwells, shall dwell.
    20 lines
  • No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace
    As I have seen in one autumnal face.
    50 lines
  • Kind pity chokes my spleen; brave scorn forbids
    Those tears to issue which swell my eyelids;
    110 lines
  • Busy old fool, unruly Sun,
    Why dost thou thus,
    30 lines, 2 comments
  • Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
    Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
    14 lines, 4 comments
  • For the first twenty years since yesterday
    &n
    10 lines
  • I can love both fair and brown;
    Her whom abundance melts, and her whom want betrays;
    27 lines
  • I'LL tell thee now (dear love) what thou shalt do
    To anger destiny, as she doth us ;
    63 lines
  • [W.]
    IF her disdain least change in you can move,
    40 lines, 1 comment
  • I scarce believe my love to be so pure
    As I had thought it was,
    28 lines
  • BLASTED with sighs, and surrounded with tears,
    Hither I come to seek the spring,
    27 lines
  • To what a cumbersome unwieldiness
    And burdenous corpulence my love had grown,
    30 lines
  • Your mistress, that you follow whores, still taxeth
    you ;
    3 lines
  • Thy sins and hairs may no man equal call ;
    For, as thy sins increase, thy hairs do fall.
    2 lines, 2 comments
  • Thy father all from thee, by his last will,
    Gave to the poor ; thou hast good title still.
    2 lines
  • Thy flattering picture, Phryne, is like thee,
    Only in this, that you both painted be.
    2 lines
  • Philo with twelve years' study hath been grieved
    To be understood ; when will he be believed?
    2 lines
  • Klockius so deeply hath sworn ne'er more to come
    In bawdy house, that he dares not go home.
    2 lines
  • Why this man gelded Martial I muse,
    Except himself alone his tricks would use,
    3 lines
  • Like Esop's fellow-slaves, O Mercury,
    Which could do all things, thy faith is ; and I
    8 lines
  • Compassion in the world again is bred ;
    Ralphius is sick, the broker keeps his bed.
    2 lines, 2 comments
  • Hark, news, O envy ; thou shalt hear descried
    My Julia ; who as yet was ne'er envied.
    32 lines
  • I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
    To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,
    71 lines
  • Both robb'd of air, we both lie in one ground ;
    Both whom one fire had burnt, one water drown'd
    2 lines
  • If in his study he hath so much care
    To hang all old strange things, let his wife beware.
    2 lines
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