Quote #39
A bracelet of bright hair about the bone.
More from John Donne
- 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 n…
- Take heed of loving me.
- To rage, to lust, to write to, to commend, All is the purlieu of the god of love.
- So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away.
- Ah cannot we As well as cocks and lions jocund be, After such pleasures?
- I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.
- Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; For, thus friends absent speak.
- Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.