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To John DonneWritten by Reely | Monday, 12 July 2010 09:11 Last Updated on Friday, 23 July 2010 23:00 by Reely Donne, the delight of Phoebus and each Muse
Who, to thy one, all other brains refuse;
Whose every work of thy most early wit
Came forth example, and remains so yet;
Longer a-knowing than most wits do live;
And which no affection praise enough can give!
To it, thy language, letters, arts, best life,
Which might with half mankind maintain a strife.
All which I meant to praise, and yet I would;
But leave, because I cannot as I should!
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English | 17th Century
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