Famous Donne Poems by Famous Poets
These are examples of famous Donne poems written by some of the greatest and most-well-known modern and classical poets. PoetrySoup is a great educational poetry resource of famous donne poems. These examples illustrate what a famous donne poem looks like and its form, scheme, or style (where appropriate).
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by
Donne, John
...Oh do not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember, thou wast one.
But yet thou canst not die, I know,
To leave this world behind, is death,
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapors with thy breath.
Or if, when thou, the world's soul, goest,
It stay, 'tis but...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...I am unable, yonder beggar cries,
To stand, or move; if he say true, he lies....Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...I have a friend who still believes in heaven.
Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God.
She thinks someone listens in heaven.
On earth she's unusually competent.
Brave too, able to face unpleasantness.
We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it.
I'm always moved by disaster...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...Some man unworthy to be possessor
Of old or new love, himself being false or weak,
Thought his pain and shame would be lesser
If on womankind he might his anger wreak,
And thence a law did grow,
One might but one man know;
But are other creatures so?
Are Sun, Moon, or Stars by law forbidden
To smile where they list, or lend away their light?
Are birds div...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...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 part.
Stay! or else my joys will die 5
And perish in their infancy. ...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...DEATH be not proud though some have call¨¨d thee
Mighty and dreadful for thou art not so:
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.
From Rest and Sleep which but thy picture be 5
Much pleasure then from thee much more must flow;
And soonest our best men with thee do go¡ª
Rest of their ...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of t...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...Fond woman, which wouldst have thy husband die,
And yet complain'st of his great jealousy;
If swol'n with poison, he lay in his last bed,
His body with a sere-bark covered,
Drawing his breath, as thick and short, as can
The nimblest crocheting musician,
Ready with loathsome vomiting to spew
His soul out of one hell, into a new,
Made deaf with his poor kind...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each 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 manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to kno...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurped town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but O, to no end;
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
but is captived, and proves weak...Read more of this...
by
Alighieri, Dante
...perch?, perch? restai?
perch? tanta vilt? nel core allette?
perch? ardire e franchezza non hai?
poscia che tai tre donne benedette
curan di te ne la corte del cielo,
e 'l mio parlar tanto ben ti promette?».
Quali fioretti dal notturno gelo
chinati e chiusi, poi che 'l sol li 'mbianca
si drizzan tutti aperti in loro stelo,
tal mi fec'io di mia virtude stanca,
e tanto buono ardire al cor mi corse,
ch'i' cominciai come persona franca:
«Oh pietosa colei che m...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...No Lover saith, I love, nor any other
Can judge a perfect Lover;
Hee thinkes that else none can, nor will agree
That any loves but hee;
I cannot say I'lov'd. for who can say
Hee was kill'd yesterday?
Lover withh excesse of heat, more yong than old,
Death kills with too much cold;
Wee dye but once, and who lov'd last did die,
Hee that saith twice, doth ...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...I long to talk with some old lover's ghost,
Who died before the God of Love was born:
I cannot think that he, who then loved most,
Sunk so low as to love one which did scorn.
But since this god produced a destiny,
And that vice-nature, Custom, lets it be,
I must love her that loves not me.
Sure, they which made him god meant not so much,
Nor he in...Read more of this...
by
Alighieri, Dante
....
Poi, s? cantando, quelli ardenti soli
si fuor girati intorno a noi tre volte,
come stelle vicine a' fermi poli,
donne mi parver, non da ballo sciolte,
ma che s'arrestin tacite, ascoltando
fin che le nove note hanno ricolte.
E dentro a l'un senti' cominciar: «Quando
lo raggio de la grazia, onde s'accende
verace amore e che poi cresce amando,
multiplicato in te tanto resplende,
che ti conduce su per quella scala
u' sanza risalir nessun discende;
qual ti negasse i...Read more of this...
by
Lowell, Amy
...
But she sat long in still oblivion.
XXVI
Then he would bring her books, and read to her The
poems of Dr. Donne, and the blue river
Would murmur through the reading, and a stir Of birds and bees
make the white petals shiver,
And one or two would flutter prone and lie Spotting the smooth-clipped
grass. The days went by
Threaded with talk and verses. Green
leaves pushed Through blossoms stubbornly.
Gervase, unconscious of dishonesty,
Fell into stron...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...He that cannot choose but love,
And strives against it still,
Never shall my fancy move,
For he loves 'gainst his will;
Nor he which is all his own,
And can at pleasure choose,
When I am caught he can be gone,
And when he list refuse.
Nor he that loves none but fair,
For such by all are sought;
Nor he that can for foul ones care,
For his judgement then...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...DEAR love for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
It was a theme
For reason much too strong for fantasy.
Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet 5
My dream thou brok'st not but continued'st it.
Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths and fables histories;
Enter these arms for since ...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...Mark but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is;
Me it sucked first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame nor loss of maidenhead,
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
And this, alas, is more...Read more of this...
by
Donne, John
...WHOEVER comes to shroud me do not harm
Nor question much
That subtle wreath of hair about mine arm;
The mystery the sign you must not touch
For 'tis my outward soul 5
Viceroy to that which unto heav'n being gone
Will leave this to control
And keep these limbs her provinces from dissolution.
For if the sinewy thread my brain lets fall...Read more of this...
by
Eliot, T S (Thomas Stearns)
...ared from the sockets of the eyes!
He knew that thought clings round dead limbs
Tightening its lusts and luxuries.
Donne, I suppose, was such another
Who found no substitute for sense,
To seize and clutch and penetrate;
Expert beyond experience,
He knew the anguish of the marrow
The ague of the skeleton;
No contact possible to flesh
Allayed the fever of the bone.
. . . . .
Grishkin is nice: her Russian eye
Is underlined for emphasis;
Uncorseted, ...Read more of this...
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