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Holy Sonnet 3 by John Donne
O might those sighes and teares returne againe
Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent,
That I might in this holy discontent
Mourne with some fruit, as I have mourn’d in vaine;
In mine Idolatry what showres of raine
Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent?
That sufferance was my sinne; now I repent;
’Cause I did suffer I must suffer paine.
Th’hydroptique drunkard, and night-scouting thiefe,
The itchy Lecher, and selfe tickling proud
Have the remembrance of past joyes, for reliefe
Of comming ills. To (poore) me is allow’d
No ease; for, long, yet vehement griefe hath beene
Th’effect and cause, the punishment and sinne.
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Holy Sonnet 3 by John Donne - Read by Arthur L Wood
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PoetryEnglish poetryEnglish literatureEnglishEnglish languagepoetry from the shiresArthur L Woodpoetry with subtitleslearn english through poetryASMR literatureEnglish manPoetry from the ShiresJohn donejohn DonneJohn DonneHoly Sonnets by John DonneHoly Sonnet by John DonneJohn Donne Arthur L WoodHoly Sonnet by John Donne read by Arthur L WoodHoly Sonnets DonneSonnet DonneHoly Sonnet 3 by John DonneHoly Sonnet 3 DonneHoly Sonnet 3