John Donne

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

John Donne Poems

161. A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day 5/14/2001
162. Song 5/14/2001
163. An Anatomy Of The World... 5/14/2001
164. Holy Sonnet Xiv: Batter My Heart 1/3/2003
165. At The Round Earth's Imagin'D Corners 1/20/2003
166. Woman's Constancy 1/3/2003
167. The Ecstasy 5/14/2001
168. Break Of Day 1/3/2003
169. Elegy Xix: To His Mistress Going To Bed 1/3/2003
170. Holy Sonnet I: Thou Hast Made Me 1/3/2003
171. Daybreak 1/4/2003
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. A Lecture Upon The Shadow 5/14/2001
175. A Valediction Of Weeping 5/14/2001
176. A Fever 1/3/2003
177. The Flea 1/3/2003
178. A Burnt Ship 1/1/2004
179. Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud 1/3/2003
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. A Hymn To God The Father 5/14/2001
186. Air And Angels 1/3/2003
187. For Whom The Bell Tolls 12/31/2002
188. A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning 5/14/2001
189. Death Be Not Proud 5/14/2001
190. No Man Is An Island 1/3/2003

Comments about John Donne

  • Grace Bunton (10/22/2012 9:54:00 PM)

    You forgot to mention that the first 2 stanzas of Go: and Catch a Falling Star were used in Diana Wynne Jones' book Howl's Moving Castle

    79 person liked.
    102 person did not like.
  • Shahzeb Azhar Shahzeb Azhar (5/16/2012 6:14:00 AM)

    Hi i don't like poems or story acording to love

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 Bait

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.

There will the river whispering run
Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun;
And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

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