John Donne

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

John Donne Poems

161. Love's Alchemy 5/14/2001
162. A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day 5/14/2001
163. An Anatomy Of The World... 5/14/2001
164. Holy Sonnet Xiv: Batter My Heart 1/3/2003
165. Woman's Constancy 1/3/2003
166. The Ecstasy 5/14/2001
167. Holy Sonnet I: Thou Hast Made Me 1/3/2003
168. Farewell To Love 1/3/2003
169. At The Round Earth's Imagin'D Corners 1/20/2003
170. Elegy Xix: To His Mistress Going To Bed 1/3/2003
171. Break Of Day 1/3/2003
172. Sweetest Love, I Do Not Go 12/31/2002
173. A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany 1/13/2003
174. Daybreak 1/4/2003
175. A Lecture Upon The Shadow 5/14/2001
176. A Valediction Of Weeping 5/14/2001
177. The Flea 1/3/2003
178. A Fever 1/3/2003
179. A Burnt Ship 1/1/2004
180. Go And Catch A Falling Star 12/31/2002
181. A Lame Beggar 1/3/2003
182. Confined Love 1/13/2003
183. Good Morrow 1/3/2003
184. The Sun Rising 5/14/2001
185. Air And Angels 1/3/2003
186. A Hymn To God The Father 5/14/2001
187. A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning 5/14/2001
188. For Whom The Bell Tolls 12/31/2002
189. Death Be Not Proud 5/14/2001
190. No Man Is An Island 1/3/2003
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 Xvi: Father

Father, part of his double interest
Unto thy kingdome, thy Sonne gives to mee,
His joynture in the knottie Trinitie
Hee keepes, and gives to me his deaths conquest.
This Lambe, whose death, with life the world hath blest,
Was from the worlds beginning slaine, and he
Hath made two Wills, which with the Legacie
Of his and thy kingdome, doe thy Sonnes invest.
Yet such are thy laws, that men argue yet

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