The lyric lark, and the grave whispering dove,
More quotes by John Donne
Batter my heart, three-personed God; for you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend.
Fill'd with her love, may I be rather grown
Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.
To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend,
All is the purlieu of the god of love.
Nature’s great masterpiece, an elephant,
The only harmless great thing.
Hail Bishop Valentine, whose day this is;
All the air is thy diocese.
You may also like
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is wing'd Cupid painted blind.
To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead.
Not for the body, but for the heart; companion and company are needed.
Love seldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus sets ere Mercury can rise.
Attribution
Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: John Donne (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.