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The Sun (John Donne)

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O Sun! The world's essence and motivator you are The organizer of the book of the world you are The splendor of existence has been created by you The verdure of the garden of existence depends on you The spectacle of elements is maintained by you The exigency of life in all is maintained by you Your appearance confers stability on everything Your illumination and concord is completion of life You are the sun which establishes light in the world Which establishes heart, intellect, essence and wisdom O Sun! Bestow on us the light of wisdom Bestow your luster's light on the intellect's eye You are the decorator of necessaries of existence' assemblage You are the Yazdan of the denizens of the high and the low Your excellence is reflected from every living thing The mountain range also shows your elegance You are the sustainer of the life of all You are the king of the light's children There is no beginning and no end of yours Free of limits of time is the light of yours

The Sun Has Long Been Set - Poem by William Wordsworth (John Donne)

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The sun has long been set, The stars are out by twos and threes, The little birds are piping yet Among the bushes and the trees; There's a cuckoo, and one or two thrushes, And a far-off wind that rushes, And a sound of water that gushes, And the cuckoo's sovereign cry Fills all the hollow of the sky. Who would go `parading' In London, `and masquerading', On such a night of June With that beautiful soft half-moon, And all these innocent blisses? On such a night as this is! William Wordsworth

The Sun Rising - Poem by John Donne (John Donne)

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Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains, call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late schoolboys, and sour prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices, Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time. Thy beams, so reverend and strong Why shouldst thou think? I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink, But that I would not lose her sight so long: If her eyes have not blinded thine, Look, and tomorrow late, tell me Whether both the'Indias of spice and mine Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me. Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday, And thou shalt hear: 'All here in one bed lay.' She'is all states, and all princes I, Nothing else is. Princes do but play us; compar'd to this, All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy. Thou, sun, art half as happy'as we, In that the world's contracted thus; Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be To warm the world, that's done in warming us. Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere; This bed thy centre is, these walls, thy sphere. John Donne

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