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Poem by John Donne


Holy Sonnet 17. Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt


Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt
To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
And her soul early into heaven ravished,
Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set.
here the admiring her my mind did whet
To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head;
But though I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed,
a holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet.
But why should I beg more love, whenas thou
Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all thine:
And dost not only fear lest I allow
My love to saints and angels, things divine,
but in they tender jealousy dost doubt
lest the world, flesh, yea, devil put thee out.



John Donne


John Donne's other poems:
  1. Holy Sonnet 12. Why are we by all creatures waited on?
  2. Holy Sonnet 15. Wilt thou love God as he thee? then digest
  3. Holy Sonnet 9. If poisonous minerals, and if that tree
  4. Holy Sonnet 18. Show me, dear Christ, thy spouse so bright and clear
  5. Holy Sonnet 5. I am a little world made cunningly


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