Quote#Time
Busy old fool, unruly Sun
Quote byJohn Donne · 1572–1631
Commonly attributed — not confirmed in an authoritative edition. Cited on Wikiquote to: Songs and Sonnets, The Sun Rising, stanza 1.
English (original)
Busy old fool, unruly Sun, Why dost thou thus, Through windows, and through curtains call on us? Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run? Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide Late school-boys and sour 'prentices, Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride, Call country ants to harvest offices; Love, all alike, no season knows, nor clime, Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.
— John Donne
More from John Donne
I sing the progress of a deathless soul.
So, of a lone unhaunted place possess’d, Did this soul’s second inn, built by the guest, This living buried man, this quiet mandrake, rest.
Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls; For, thus friends absent speak.
And seeing the snail, which everywhere doth roam, Carrying his own house still, still is at home, Follow (for he is easy paced) this snail, Be thine own palace, or the world’s thy gaol.
Great Destiny, the commissary of God.
Nature’s great masterpiece, an elephant, The only harmless great thing.