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Devotions, by J. Donne. With Two Sermons. I. on the Decease of Lady Danvers. Ii. Death's Duel. to Which Is Prefixed, His Life, by I. Walton
Devotions by J Donne With Two Sermons I on the Decease of Lady Danvers Ii Death's Duel to Which Is Prefixed His Life by I Walton Author:John Donne General Books publication date: 2009 Original publication date: 1840 Notes: This is a black and white OCR reprint of the original. It has no illustrations and there may be typos or missing text. When you buy the General Books edition of this book you get free trial access to Million-Books.com where you can select from more than a million book... more »s for free. Excerpt: VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF DR. J. DONNE. AN EPITAPH WRITTEN BY DOCTOR CORBET, LATE BISHOP OF OXFORD, ON HIS FRIEND, DOCTOR DONNE. HE that would write an epitaph for thee, And write it well, must first begin to be Such as thou wert; for none can truly know Thy life and worth, but he that hath liv'd so. He must have wit to spare, and to hurl down; Enough to keep the gallants of the town. He must have learning plenty; both the laws, Civil and common, to judge any cause; Divinity great store above the rest, Not of the last edition, but the best. He must have language, travel, all the arts, Judgment to use, or else he wants thy parts. He must have friends the highest, able to do, Such as Maecenas, and Augustus too. He must have such a sickness, such a death, Or else his vain descriptions come beneath. He that would write an epitaph for thee Should first be dead; let it alone for me. TO THE MEMORY OF MY EVER DESIRED DOCTOR DONNE. AN ELEGY BY HENRY KING, LATE BISHOP OF CHICHESTER. TO have liv'd eminent, in a degree Beyond our loftiest thoughts, that is, like thee; Or to have had too much merit is not safe, For such excesses find no epitaph. At common graves we have poetic eyes, Can melt themselves in easy elegies; Each quill can drop his tributary verse, And pin it, like the hatchments, to the hearse: But at thine, poem or inscription (Rich soul of wit and language) we have none. Indeed a silence does that tomb befit, Where is no herald left to blazon it. Widow'd invention justly doth forbear To come abroad, knowing thou art not there: Lat...« less