John Donne(1572–1631)
Sonnet 1: "Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?"
T h o u hast m a d e m e , a n d shall t h y w o r k decay
Repair m e n o w , for n o w m i n e e n d d o t h haste;
I r u n t o d e a t h , a n d d e a t h m e e t s m e a s fast,
A n d all my p l e a s u r e s are like yesterday.
I dare n o t m o v e my d i m e y e s a n y way,
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By s i n in it, w h i c h it t o w a r d s hell d o t h w e i g h .
O n l y t h o u art above, a n d w h e n t o w a r d s t h e e
By thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth meSatan
That not one hour myself I can sustain.
Thy grace may wing me to prevent 0 his art,give wings to /forestall
And thou like adamant 8 draw mine iron 0 heart.obdurate