English clergyman and metaphysical poet celebrated as a preacher (1572-1631)

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No man is an Island, entire of itself every man is a piece of the Continent, a part of the main if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friends or of thine own were any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in Mankind And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls It tolls for thee.
Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks.
Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.
No man is an island, entire of itself every man is a piece of the continent.
Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for thou art not so, For, those, whom thou thinkst, thou dost overthrow, die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.
Love all love of other sights controls, And makes one little room an everywhere.
Men have conceived a twofold use of sleep; it is a refreshing of the body in this life, and a preparing of the soul for the next.
More than kisses, letters mingle souls.
Our fear of death is like our fear that summer will be short, but when we have had our swing of pleasure, our fill of fruit, and our swelter of heat, we say we have had our day.
Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name.

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