John Donne

(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631 / London, England)

John Donne Poems

1. To His Mistress Going To Bed 5/14/2001
2. Mercurius Gallo-Belgicus 4/9/2010
3. To Mr. Tilman After He Had Taken Orders 4/9/2010
4. To Sir Henry Goodyere 4/9/2010
5. To Sir Henry Wotton 4/9/2010
6. To The Earl Of Doncaster 4/9/2010
7. Translated Out Of Gazaeus, 4/9/2010
8. To Sir Henry Wotton Ii 4/9/2010
9. To Mr. I. P. 4/9/2010
10. Valediction To His Book 4/9/2010
11. Holy Sonnet Xi: Spit In My Face You Jews, And Pierce My Side 4/9/2010
12. Klockius 4/9/2010
13. Holy Sonnet Iii: O Might Those Sighes 1/3/2003
14. Holy Sonnet Viii: If Faithfull Soules 1/3/2003
15. Holy Sonnet Vii: At The Round Earth's 1/3/2003
16. To Mr. Samuel Brooke 4/9/2010
17. To Mr.T.W. 4/9/2010
18. To The Countess Of Bedford Ii 4/9/2010
19. To Sir Henry Wotton At His Going Ambassador To Venice 4/9/2010
20. To Mr.I.L. 4/9/2010
21. To The Lady Magdalen Herbert, Of St. Mary Magdalen 4/9/2010
22. To The Praise Of The Dead And The Anatomy 4/9/2010
23. Elegy Xii 4/9/2010
24. Elegy Xvi: The Expostulation 1/1/2004
25. A Dialogue Between Sir Henry Wootton And Mr. Donne 4/9/2010
26. Nativity 4/9/2010
27. La Corona 4/9/2010
28. Holy Sonnet Xiii: What If This Present 1/3/2003
29. To The Countess Of Bedford I 4/9/2010
30. To Mr. Rowland Woodward 4/9/2010
31. Ralphius 4/9/2010
32. Upon The Translation Of The Psalms By Sir Philip Sidney And The Countess Of Pembroke, His Sister 4/9/2010
33. Elegy Xi: The Bracelet 4/9/2010
34. Satire V 4/9/2010
35. Sonnet Cycle For Lady Magdalen 4/9/2010
36. Raderus 4/9/2010
37. Holy Sonnet Xii: Why Are We 1/3/2003
38. A Licentious Person 4/9/2010
39. Holy Sonnet Xii: Why Are We By All Creatures Waited On? 1/13/2003
40. Holy Sonnet Xvi: Father, Part Of His Double Interest 1/13/2003
Best Poem of John Donne

No Man Is An Island

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.

Read the full of No Man Is An Island

Holy Sonnet X

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 their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

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