No Man Is An Island Poem by John Donne - Poem Hunter No Man Is An Island Poem by John Donne - Poem Hunter No Man Is An Island - Poem by John Donne Autoplay next video 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 bell tolls; It tolls for thee. next poem » Poet's Notes about The Poem These famous words by John Donne were not originally written as a poem - the passage is taken from the 1624 Meditation 17, from Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions and is prose.

The words of the original passage are as follows: John Donne Meditation 17 Devotions upon Emergent Occasions 'No man is an iland, intire of it selfe; every man is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine; if a clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as well as if a Mannor of thy friends or of thine owne were; any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee....' The Life of John Donne (1572-1631) John Donne was born in Bread Street, London in 1572 to a prosperous Roman Catholic family - a precarious thing at a time when anti-Catholic sentiment was rife in England. His father, John Donne, was a well-to-do ironmonger and citizen of London.

Donne's father died suddenly in 1576, and left the three children to be raised by their mother, Elizabeth, who was the daughter of epigrammatist and playwright John Heywood and a relative of Sir Thomas More . [ Family tree .] Donne's first teachers were Jesuits. At the age of 11, Donne and his younger brother Henry were entered at Hart Hall, University of Oxford , where Donne studied for three years. He spent the next three years at the University of Cambridge , but took no degree at either university because he would not take the Oath of Supremacy required at graduation. He was admitted to study law as a member of Thavies Inn (1591) and Lincoln's Inn (1592), and it seemed natural that Donne should embark upon a legal or diplomatic career. In 1593, Donne's brother Henry died of a fever in prison after being arrested for giving sanctuary to a proscribed Catholic priest. This made Donne begin to question his faith. His first book of poems, Satires , written during this period of residence in London, is considered one of Donne's most important literary efforts.

Although not immediately published, the volume had a fairly wide readership through private circulation of the manuscript. Same was the case with his love poems, Songs and Sonnets , assumed to be written at about the same time as the Satires. Having inherited a considerable fortune, young "Jack Donne" spent his money on womanizing, on books, at the theatre, and on travels. He had also befriended Christopher Brooke, a poet and his roommate at Lincoln's Inn, and Ben Jonson who was part of Brooke's circle. In 1596, Donne joined the naval expedition that Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex , led against Cádiz, Spain. In 1597, Donne joined an expedition to the Azores, where he wrote "The Calm". Upon his return to England in 1598, Donne was appointed private secretary to Sir Thomas Egerton , Lord Keeper of the Great Seal, afterward Lord Ellesmere. Donne was beginning a promising career. In 1601, Donne became MP for Brackley, and sat in Queen Elizabeth's last Parliament.

But in the same year, he secretly married Lady Egerton's niece, seventeen-year-old Anne More , daughter of Sir George More, Lieutenant of the Tower, and effectively committed career suicide. Donne wrote to the livid father, saying: "Sir, I acknowledge my fault to be so great as I dare scarce offer any other prayer to you in mine own behalf than this, to believe that I neither had dishonest end nor means. But for her whom I tender much more than my fortunes or life (else I would, I might neither joy in this life nor enjoy the next) I humbly beg of you that she may not, to her danger, feel the terror of your sudden anger."1 Sir George had Donne thrown in Fleet Prison for some weeks, along with his cohorts Samuel and Christopher Brooke who had aided the couple's clandestine affair. Donne was dismissed from his post, and for the next decade had to struggle near poverty to support his growing family.

Donne later summed up the experience: "John Donne, Anne Donne, Undone." Anne's cousin offered the couple refuge in Pyrford, Surrey, and the couple was helped by friends like Lady Magdalen Herbert, George Herbert 's mother, and Lucy, Countess of Bedford , women who also played a prominent role in Donne's literary life. Though Donne still had friends left, these were bitter years for a man who knew himself to be the intellectual superior of most, knew he could have risen to the highest posts, and yet found no preferment. It was not until 1609 that a reconciliation was effected between Donne and his father-in-law, and Sir George More was finally induced to pay his daughter's dowry. In the intervening years, Donne practised law, but they were lean years for the Donnes. Donne was employed by the religious pamphleteer Thomas Morton , later Bishop of Durham. It is possible that Donne co-wrote or ghost-wrote some of Morton's pamphlets (1604-1607). To this period, before reconciliation with his inlaws, belong Donne's Divine Poems (1607) and Biathanatos (pub.

1644), a radical piece for its time, in which Donne argues that suicide is not a sin in itself. As Donne approached forty, he published two anti-Catholic polemics Pseudo-Martyr (1610) and Ignatius his Conclave (1611). They were final public testimony of Donne's renunciation of the Catholic faith. Pseudo-Martyr, which held that English Catholics could pledge an oath of allegiance to James I , King of England, without compromising their religious loyalty to the Pope, won Donne the favor of the King. In return for patronage from Sir Robert Drury of Hawstead, he wrote A Funerall Elegie (1610), on the death of Sir Robert's 15-year-old daughter Elizabeth. At this time, the Donnes took residence on Drury Lane. The two Anniversaries— An Anatomy of the World (1611) and Of the Progress of the Soul (1612) continued the patronage. Sir Robert encouraged the publication of the poems: The First Anniversary was published with the original elegy in 1611, and both were reissued with The Second Anniversary in 1612.

Donne had refused to take Anglican orders in 1607, but King James persisted, finally announcing that Donne would receive no post or preferment from the King, unless in the church. In 1615, Donne reluctantly entered the ministry and was appointed a Royal Chaplain later that year. In 1616, he was appointed Reader in Divinity at Lincoln's Inn (Cambridge had conferred the degree of Doctor of Divinity on him two years earlier). Donne's style, full of elaborate metaphors and religious symbolism, his flair for drama, his wide learning and his quick wit soon established him as one of the greatest preachers of the era. Just as Donne's fortunes seemed to be improving, Anne Donne died, on 15 August, 1617, aged thirty-three, after giving birth to their twelfth child, a stillborn. Seven of their children survived their mother's death. Struck by grief, Donne wrote the seventeenth Holy Sonnet, "Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt." According to Donne's friend and biographer, Izaak Walton, Donne was thereafter 'crucified to the world'.

Donne continued to write poetry, notably his Holy Sonnets (1618), but the time for love songs was over. In 1618, Donne went as chaplain with Viscount Doncaster in his embassy to the German princes. His Hymn to Christ at the Author's Last Going into Germany , written before the journey, is laden with apprehension of death. Donne returned to London in 1620, and was appointed Dean of Saint Paul's in 1621, a post he held until his death. Donne excelled at his post, and was at last financially secure. In 1623, Donne's eldest daughter, Constance, married the actor Edward Alleyn , then 58. Donne's private meditations, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions , written while he was convalescing from a serious illness, were published in 1624.

The most famous of these is undoubtedly Meditation 17 , which includes the immortal lines "No man is an island" and "never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee." In 1624, Donne was made vicar of St Dunstan's-in-the-West. On March 27, 1625, James I died, and Donne preached his first sermon for Charles I . But for his ailing health, (he had mouth sores and had experienced significant weight loss) Donne almost certainly would have become a bishop in 1630. Obsessed with the idea of death, Donne posed in a shroud - the painting was completed a few weeks before his death, and later used to create an effigy. He also preached what was called his own funeral sermon, Death's Duel , just a few weeks before he died in London on March 31, 1631. The last thing Donne wrote just before his death was Hymne to God, my God, In my Sicknesse . Donne's monument , in his shroud, survived the Great Fire of London and can still be seen today at St. Paul's. 1 Epton, Nina.

Love and the English. Cleveland: The World Publishing Co., 1960. 106-107. Article citation: SparkNotes: Donne’s Poetry: Context Donne’s Poetry Table of Contents Analysis John Donne was born in 1572 to a London merchant and his wife. Donne’s parents were both Catholic at a time when England was deeply divided over matters of religion; Queen Elizabeth persecuted the Catholics and upheld the Church of England established by her father, Henry VIII. The subsequent ruler, James I, tolerated Catholicism, but advised Donne that he would achieve advancement only in the Church of England. Having renounced his Catholic faith, Donne was ordained in the Church of England in 1615. Donne’s father died when he was very young, as did several of his brothers and sisters, and his mother remarried twice during his lifetime. Donne was educated at Hart’s Hall, Oxford, and Lincoln’s Inn; he became prodigiously learned, speaking several languages and writing poems in both English and Latin. Donne’s adult life was colorful, varied, and often dangerous; he sailed with the royal fleet and served as both a Member of Parliament and a diplomat.

In 1601, he secretly married a woman named Ann More, and he was imprisoned by her father, Sir George More; however, after the Court of Audiences upheld his marriage several months later, he was released and sent to live with his wife’s cousin in Surrey, his fortunes now in tatters. For the next several years, Donne moved his family throughout England, traveled extensively in France and Italy, and attempted unsuccessfully to gain positions that might improve his financial situation. In 1615, Donne was ordained a priest in the Anglican Church; in 1621, he became the Dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral, a post that he retained for the rest of his life. A very successful priest, Donne preached several times before royalty; his sermons were famous for their power and directness. For the last decade of his life, before his death in 1630, Donne concentrated more on writing sermons than on writing poems, and today he is admired for the former as well as the latter.

(One of his most famous sermons contains the passage beginning, “No man is an island” and ending, “Therefore ask not for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.”) However, it is for his extraordinary poems that Donne is primarily remembered; and it was on the basis of his poems that led to the revival of his reputation at the beginning of the 20th century, following years of obscurity. (The renewed interest in Donne was led by a new generation of writers at the turn of the century, including T.S. Eliot.) Donne was the leading exponent of a style of poetry called “metaphysical poetry,” which flourished in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. Metaphysical poetry features elaborate conceits and surprising symbols, wrapped up in original, challenging language structures, with learned themes that draw heavily on eccentric chains of reasoning. Donne’s verse, like that of George Herbert, Andrew Marvell, and many of their contemporaries, exemplifies these traits. But Donne is also a highly individual poet, and his consistently ingenious treatment of his great theme—the conflict between spiritual piety and physical carnality, as embodied in religion and love—remains unparalleled.

More Help John Donne - John Donne Poems - Poem Hunter John Donne - John Donne Poems - Poem Hunter Do you like this poet? John Donne Poems A Hymn To God The Father Wilt thou forgive that sin where I ... Air And Angels Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I ... Confined Love Some man unworthy to be possessor Of old or ... All poems of John Donne » Search in the poems of John Donne: John Donne was an English poet, satirist, lawyer and priest. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. His works are noted for their strong, sensual style and include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, satires and sermons. His poetry is noted for its vibrancy of language and inventiveness of metaphor, especially compared to that of his contemporaries. Donne's style is characterised by abrupt openings and various paradoxes, ironies and dislocations. These features, along with his frequent dramatic or everyday speech rhythms, his tense syntax and his tough eloquence, were both a reaction against the smoothness ... more » Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.

Quotations more quotations » ''To be no part of any body, is to be nothing.'' John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. letter, Sept. 1608, to Sir Henry Goodyer. Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John H... ''When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language.'' John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. repr. In Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John Hayward (1929). Devotions Upon Eme... No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main.... Any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in Mankind; and therefore never send to know for... John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. repr. In Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John Hayward (1929). Devotions Upon Eme...

''But I do nothing upon myself, and yet am mine own executioner.'' John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. repr. In Complete Poetry and Selected Prose, ed. John Hayward (1929). Devotions upon Eme... ''Humiliation is the beginning of sanctification.'' John Donne (c. 1572-1631), British divine, metaphysical poet. Eighty Sermons, sermon 7 (1640). The Spiritual Quote that Started it All: No Man is an Island The Spiritual Quote that Started it All: No Man is an Island Spirituality PART 5 IN SERIES: Words to Live By “No man is an island.” Probably everyone in the English-speaking world has heard this famous quotation from John Donne, the British poet, satirist, lawyer and cleric who lived during the late 16th and early 17th century (1572-1631). You can read his immortal five words in the original 1624 document: Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions and Seuerall Steps in my Sicknes – Meditation XVII.

Hardly anyone does, though, so here’s an excerpt: All mankind is of one author, and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated…As therefore the bell that rings to a sermon, calls not upon the preacher only, but upon the congregation to come: so this bell calls us all: but how much more me, who am brought so near the door by this sickness….No man is an island, entire of itself…any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. Written during a period of grave illness when Donne thought he would soon die, this has become one of the most well-known works of poetry ever. Artists of every type and kind – novelists, sculptors, songwriters, poets and painters – have borrowed their inspiration, their titles and their themes from John Donne. John Donne Donne’s poetry covers three main subjects – love, religion and death.

Perhaps that reveals the secret to its consistent, unending appeal over the past several hundred years – Donne cared about the eternal, unchanging concerns of every human being. In fact, the great English writer and scholar Samuel Johnson named an entire school of poetry after Donne and some of his contemporaries, calling them “the metaphysical poets.” Those poets, concerned with the ever-fascinating metaphysical subjects of love and death, wrote about moral and religious questions in a new, casual and even conversational way. Influenced by Plato and by the Sufi mystics, Donne and the other metaphysical poets explored the idea of the beauty of the beloved as a reflection of perfect beauty in a spiritual reality. Many of the people who hear Donne’s most famous line at a wedding or a funeral may think it just means that we need each other as human beings. This simplistic interpretation – that human beings do not thrive when isolated from others – takes the most literal path, which probably would have insulted the poet. Donne meant more than that – he meant, in the broadest sense, that the personal and the political are one; that the boundary between you and I does not ultimately exist.

In Donne’s way of seeing our existence, the death of another person sends a ripple out into the world, preparing all of us for our own transcendence. Using land as a metaphor and comparing the human race to a continent rather than an isolated island, Donne makes one of the first known artistic pleas for the unity of humanity. “Because I am involved in mankind…” the poet says, telling us that he has discovered his relationship with all people. In the 17th century, this was a radical and even revolutionary belief. Donne said it during a time of rampant slavery, enormous class distinctions and the complete subjugation of certain kinds of people based on gender, race and circumstances of birth. In the line “never send to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee” the poet’s collective “thee” refers to the entire unified race of humanity. Challenging death with his faith, the poet asks us all to see his vision of unity before we die. John Donne - Wikiquote John Donne Jump to: navigation , search Any mans death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankinde ; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

John Donne ( 22 January 1572 – 31 March 1631 ) was a Jacobean metaphysical poet . His works include sonnets, love poetry, religious poems, Latin translations, epigrams, elegies, songs, and sermons. Contents Though Truth and Falsehood be Near twins, yet Truth a little elder is. I have done one braver thing Than all the Worthies did; And yet a braver thence doth spring, Which is to keep that hid. Though Truth and Falsehood be Near twins, yet Truth a little elder is. Satyre III (c. 1598) 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 singing, Or to keep off envy's stinging, And find Serves to advance an honest mind. Song (Go and Catch a Falling Star), stanza 1 And swear Lives a woman true and fair.

If thou find'st one, let me know, Such a pilgrimage were sweet; Yet do not, I would not go, Though at next door we might meet, Though she were true, when you met her, And last, till you write your letter, Yet she False, ere I come, to two, or three. Song (Go and Catch a Falling Star), stanzas 2-3 I have done one braver thing Than all the Worthies did; And yet a braver thence doth spring, Which is to keep that hid. The Undertaking, stanza 1 But he who loveliness within Hath found, all outward loathes, For he who color loves, and skin, Loves but their oldest clothes. The Undertaking, stanza 4 And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She. The Undertaking, stanza 5 Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? The Sun Rising, stanza 1 Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

The Sun Rising, stanza 1 She is all states, and all princes, I, Nothing else is. The Sun Rising, stanza 3 For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love. The Canonization, stanza 1 The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral thing both sexes fit, We die and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love. As well a well-wrought urn becomes The greatest ashes, as half-acre tombs. The Canonization, stanza 4 I am two fools, I know, For loving, and for saying so In whining poetry. The Triple Fool, stanza 1 Who are a little wise, the best fools be. The Triple Fool, stanza 2 Sweetest love, I do not go, For weariness of thee, Nor in hope the world can show A fitter love for me; But since that I Must die at last, 'tis best, To use my self in jest Thus by feigned deaths to die. Song (Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go), stanza 1 Yesternight the sun went hence, And yet is here today.

Song (Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go), stanza 2 But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep. Song (Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go), stanza 5 When I died last, and dear, I die As often as from thee I go. The Legacy, stanza 1 Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone. A Fever, stanza 1 Twice and thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name. Air and Angels, stanza 1 '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 night? Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither Should in despite of light keep us together.

Break of Day, stanza 1 All Kings, and all their favorites, All glory of honors, beauties, wits The sun itself, which makes times, as they pass, Is elder by a year, now, than it was When thou and I first one another saw: All other things, to their destruction draw, Only our love hath no decay; This, no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, Running, it never runs from us away, But truly keeps his first, last, everlasting day. The Anniversary, stanza 1 Let us love nobly, and live, and add again Years and years unto years, till we attain To write threescore: this is the second of our reign. The Anniversary, last stanza Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee. The Message, stanza 1 The world's whole sap is sunk: The general balm th' hydroptic earth hath drunk, Whither, as to the bed's-feet, life is shrunk, Dead and interred; yet all these seem to laugh, Compared with me, who am their epitaph. A Nocturnal upon St.

Lucy's Day, stanza 1 For I am every dead thing, In whom love wrought new alchemy. For his art did express A quintessence even from nothingness, From dull privations, and lean emptiness He ruined me, and I am re-begot Of absence, darkness, death; things which are not. A Nocturnal upon St. Lucy's Day, stanza 2 Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks. The Bait, stanza 1 (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it. A Valediction Forbidding Mourning, stanza 4 Our two souls therefore which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. A Valediction Forbidding Mourning, stanza 6 If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two, Thy soul the fixt foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the other do.

A Valediction Forbidding Mourning, stanza 7 Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread Our eyes, upon one double string; So to entergraft our hands, as yet Was all the means to make us one, And pictures in our eyes to get Was all our propagation. We then, who are this new soul, know Of what we are compos'd and made, For th' atomies of which we grow Are souls, whom no change can invade. But oh alas, so long, so far, Our bodies why do we forbear? They'are ours, though they'are not we; we are The intelligences, they the spheres. The Extasy, line 45 That subtle knot which makes us man: So must pure lovers' souls descend T' affections, and to faculties, Which sense may reach and apprehend, Else a great Prince in prison lies. The Extasy, line 64 Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book. The Extasy, line 71 I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.

Love's Deity, stanza 1 To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend, All is the purlieu of the god of love. Love's Deity, stanza 3 Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harm Nor question much That subtle wreth of hair, which crowns my arm; The mystery, the sign you must not touch, For 'tis my outward soul, Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone, Will leave this to control, And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution. The Funeral, stanza 1 A bracelet of bright hair about the bone. The Relic, stanza 1 Take heed of loving me. The Prohibition, stanza 1 So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away. The Expiration, stanza 1 As well as cocks and lions jocund be, After such pleasures? Farewell to Love, stanza 3 Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; For, thus friends absent speak.

Verse Letter to Sir Henry Woton, written before April 1598, line 1 And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit, Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot. An Anatomy of the World, The First Anniversary We understood Her by her sight; her pure, and eloquent blood Spoke in her cheeks, and so distinctly wrought, That one might almost say, her body thought. Of the Progress of the Soul, The Second Anniversary Since I am coming to that holy room, Where, with thy choir of saints forevermore, I shall be made thy music; as I come I tune the instrument here at the door, And what I must do then, think here before.

Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness, stanza 1 Whilst my physicians by their love are grown Cosmographers, and their map, who lie Flat on this bed. Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness, stanza 2 When my mouth shall be filled with dust, and the worm shall feed, and feed sweetly upon me, when the ambitious man shall have no satisfaction if the poorest alive tread upon him, nor the poorest receive any contentment in being made equal to princes, for they shall be equal but in dust. XXVI Sermons, No. 26, Death's Duel, last sermon, February 15, 1631 Absence, hear thou my protestation Against thy strength, Do what thou canst for alteration Poem Present in Absence [1] Attribution likely but not proven [2] Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies. No. 2, The Anagram, line 27 Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love. No. 7, Natures Lay Idiot, line 1 She, and comparisons are odious. No. 8, The Comparison, line 54.

Compare: "Comparisons are odious", John Fortescue , De Laudibus Leg. Angliæ, Chap. xix; "Comparisons are odorous", William Shakespeare , Much Ado About Nothing , act iii, scene v No spring, nor summer beauty hath such grace, As I have seen in one autumnal face. No. 9, The Autumnal, line 1 The heavens rejoice in motion, why should I Abjure my so much loved variety. No. 17, Variety, line 1 Who ever loves, if he do not propose The right true end of love, he's one that goes To sea for nothing but to make him sick. No. 18, Love's Progress, line 1 The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts Not of two lovers, but two loves the nests. No. 18, Love's Progress, line 61 Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright. No. 19, To His Mistress Going to Bed, line 24 O my America! my new-found land. No. 19, To His Mistress Going to Bed, line 27 Full nakedness!

All joys are due to thee, As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be, To taste whole joys. If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired , and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. I wonder , by my troth , what thou and I Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then? But sucked on country pleasures , childishly? Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers ’ den? ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be. If ever any beauty I did see, Which I desired , and got, ’twas but a dream of thee. And now good-morrow to our waking souls , Which watch not one another out of fear ; For love , all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room an everywhere. Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, Let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown, Let us possess one world, each hath one, and is one. My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears, And true plain hearts do in the faces rest; Where can we find two better hemispheres, Without sharp north, without declining west?

Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; If our two loves be one, or, thou and I Love so alike, that none do slacken, none can die. Of elements, and an angelic sprite . No. 5, line 1 At the round earth's imagin'd corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls, and to your scattred bodies go. No. 7, line 1 All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain. No. 7, line 6 If poisonous minerals, and if that tree, Whose fruit threw death on else immortal us, If lecherous goats, if serpents envious Cannot be damned; alas; why should I be? No. 9, line 1 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. No.

10, line 1 Thou'rt slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell; And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke. No. 10, line 9 One short sleep past, we wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. No. 10, line 13 What if this present were the world's last night? No. 13, line 1 Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend. No. 14, line 1 Show me, dear Christ, Thy spouse, so bright and clear. No. 18, line 1 Variable, and therefore miserable condition of man; this minute I was well, and am ill, this minute. I. Insultus Morbi Primus; The first alteration, the first grudging of the sickness. Man, who is the noblest part of the earth, melts so away as if he were a statue, not of earth, but of snow. II.

Actio Læsa; The strength, and the functions of the senses, and other faculties change and fail. It is too little to call man a little world, except God, man is a diminutive to nothing. Man consists of more pieces, more parts, than the world; than the world doth, nay, than the world is. IV. Mediscque Vocatur The physician is sent for Enlarge this meditation upon this great world, man, so far, as to consider the immensity of the creatures this world produces; our creatures are our thoughts, creatures that are born giants; that reach from east to west, from earth to heaven, that do not only bestride all the sea and land, but span the sun and firmament at once; my thoughts reach all, comprehend all. Inexplicable mystery; I their creator am in a close prison, in a sick bed, anywhere, and any one of my creatures, my thoughts, is with the sun, and beyond the sun, overtakes the sun, and overgoes the sun in one pace, one step, everywhere. IV. Mediscque Vocatur; The physician is sent for.

And then as the other world produces serpents, and vipers, malignant, and venomous creatures, and worms , and caterpillars, that endeavour to devour that world produces them, and monsters compiled and complicated of diverse parents, and kinds, so this world, ourselves produces all these in us, in producing diseases and sicknesses of all those sorts; venomous and infectious diseases, feeding and consuming diseases... IV. Mediscque Vocatur; The physician is sent for. I observe the physician, with the same diligence, as he the disease; I see he fears, and I fear with him... VI. Metuit. The physician is afraid A man that is not afraid of a Lion is afraid of a Cat; not afraid of starving, and yet is afraid of some joint of meat at the table, presented to feed him; not afraid of the sound of drums, and trumpets, and shot, and those, which they seek to drown, the last cries of men, and is afraid of some particular harmonious instrument; so much afraid, as that with any of these the enemy might drive this man, otherwise valiant enough, out of the field. VI. Metuit.

The physician is afraid I know not what fear is, nor I know not what it is that I fear now; I fear not the hastening of my death, and yet I do fear the increase of the disease... my weakness is from nature, who hath but her measure, my strength is from God, who possesses and distributes infinitely. VI. Metuit. The physician is afraid Age is a sicknesse, and Youth is an ambush. Meditation 7 Let not one bring Learning, another Diligence, another Religion, but every one bring all. Meditation 7 I do nothing upon myself, and yet am mine own executioner. Meditation 12 The flea, though he kill none, he does all the harm he can. Meditation 12 Hee drinkes misery, and he tastes happinesse; he mowes misery, and he gleanes happinesse; he journeys in misery, he does but walke in happinesse. Meditation 13 John Donne - Poet - Biography.com John Donne John Donne, leading English poet of the Metaphysical school, is often considered the greatest loved poet in the English language.

IN THESE GROUPS quotes “Art is the most passionate orgy within man’s grasp.” “Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so.” “Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.” “Affection is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.” John Donne Synopsis The first two editions of John Donne's poems were published posthumously, in 1633 and 1635, after having circulated widely in manuscript copies. Readers continue to find stimulus in his fusion of witty argument with passion, his dramatic rendering of complex states of mind, and his ability to make common words yield up rich poetic meaning. Donne also wrote songs, sonnets and prose. Profile John Donne was born into a Catholic family in 1572, during a strong anti-Catholic period in England. Donne’s father, also named John, was a prosperous London merchant. His mother, Elizabeth Heywood, was the grand-niece of Catholic martyr Thomas More. Religion would play a tumultuous and passionate role in John’s life. Donne’s father died in 1576, and his mother remarried a wealthy widower.

He entered Oxford University at age 11 and later the University of Cambridge, but never received degrees, due to his Catholicism. At age 20, Donne began studying law at Lincoln’s Inn and seemed destined for a legal or diplomatic career. During the 1590s, he spent much of his inheritance on women, books and travel. He wrote most of his love lyrics and erotic poems during this time. His first books of poems, “Satires” and “Songs and Sonnets,” were highly prized among a small group of admirers. In 1593, John Donne’s brother, Henry, was convicted of Catholic sympathies and died in prison soon after. The incident led John to question his Catholic faith and inspired some of his best writing on religion. At age 25, Donne was appointed private secretary to Sir Thomas Egerton, Lord Keeper of the Great Seal of England. He held his position with Egerton for several years and it's likely that around this period Donne converted to Anglicanism. On his way to a promising career, John Donne became a Member of Parliament in 1601. That same year, he married 16-year-old Anne More, the niece of Sir Egerton.

Both Lord Egerton and Anne’s father, George More, strongly disapproved of the marriage, and, as punishment, More did not provide a dowry. Lord Egerton fired Donne and had him imprisoned for a short time. The eight years following Donne’s release would be a struggle for the married couple until Anne’s father finally paid her dowry. In 1610, John Donne published his anti-Catholic polemic “Pseudo-Martyr,” renouncing his faith. In it, he proposed the argument that Roman Catholics could support James I without compromising their religious loyalty to the pope. This won him the king’s favor and patronage from members of the House of Lords. In 1615, Donne was ordained soon thereafter was appointed Royal Chaplain. His elaborate metaphors, religious symbolism and flair for drama soon established him as a great preacher. In 1617, John Donne’s wife died shortly after giving birth to their 12th child. The time for writing love poems was over, and Donne devoted his energies to more religious subjects. In 1621, Donne became dean of St. Paul’s Cathedral.

During a period of severe illness, he wrote “Devotions upon Emergent Occasions,” published in 1624. This work contains the immortal lines “No man is an island” and “never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” That same year, Donne was appointed Vicar of St. Dunstan’s-in-the-West and became known for his eloquent sermons. As John Donne’s health continued to fail him, he became obsessed with death. Shortly before he died, he delivered a pre-funeral sermon, “Death’s Duel.” His writing was charismatic and inventive. His compelling examination of the mortal paradox influenced English poets for generations. Donne’s work fell out of favor for a time, but was revived in the 20th century by high-profile admirers such as T.S. Eliot and William Butler Yeats. Fact Check We strive for accuracy and fairness. If you see something that doesn't look right, contact us ! Citation Information

Question: Which metaphysical poet famously wrote 'No man is an island'?
Answer: JOHN DONNE