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Affliction is a treasure, and scarce any man hath enough of it.
John Donne
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So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
John Donne
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Our eye-beams twisted, and did thread Our eyes, upon one double string; So to entergraft our hands, as yet Was all the means to make us one, And pictures in our eyes to get Was all our propagation.
John Donne
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Who ever comes to shroud me, do not harm Nor question much That subtle wreth of hair, which crowns my arm; The mystery, the sign you must not touch, For 'tis my outward soul, Viceroy to that, which then to heaven being gone, Will leave this to control, And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.
John Donne
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Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right.
John Donne
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Nature's lay idiot, I taught thee to love.
John Donne
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She, and comparisons are odious.
John Donne
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And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She.
John Donne
