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

The Ecstasy

Where, like a pillow on a bed
A pregnant bank swell'd up to rest
The violet's reclining head,
Sat we two, one another's best.
Our hands were firmly cemented
With a fast balm, which thence did spring;
Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread
Our eyes upon one double string;
So to'intergraft our hands, as yet

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