John Donne

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

The Soule - Poem by John Donne

Thee, eye of heaven, this great soule envies not;
By thy male force is all wee have begot;
In the first East thou now begins to shine;
Suck'st early balme, and island spices there;
And wilt anon, in thy loose-rein'd careere
At Tagus, Po, Sene, Thames, and Danon dine,
And see at night thy Westerne land of Myne :
Yet hast thou not more nations seene than shee,
That before thee one day beganne to bee,
And, thy fraill light being quenched, shall long, long outlive thee.

Topic(s) of this poem: life


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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 21, 2014


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