And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot.
John DonneTo know and feel all this and not have the words to express it makes a human a grave of his own thoughts.
John DonneGod employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice.
John DonneI neglect God and his angles for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.
John Donne