Metaphysical Poets


Today’s blog is a collection of extracts from the metaphysical poets. Enjoy.


The beating of thy pulse (when thou art well)

Is just the tolling of thy passing bell


Henry King, from My Midnight Meditation



They that never had the use

Of the Grapes surprizing juyce,

To the first delicious cup

All their reason render up;

Neither doe, no care to know

Whether it be best or no.


Edmund Waller, from An Apologie for having loved before



Sweetest love, I do not goe,

For Weariness of thee,

Nor in hope the world can show

A fitter Love for mee;

But since that I

Must dye at last, ‘tis best.

To use my selfe in jest

Thus by fain’d deaths to dye.


John Donne, from Song

Posted On February, 09 Thursday 2017 09:20 AM

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