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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419771" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Harbinger</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">to the Progresse.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">TWo soules moue here, and mine (a third) must moue <br>Paces of admiration, and of loue; <br>Thy soule (Deare Virgin) whose this tribute is, <br>Mou'd from this mortall sphere to liuely blisse, <br>And yet moues still, and still aspires to see <br>The worlds last day, thy glories full degree: <br>Like as those starres which thou ore-lookest farre, <br>Are in their place, and yet still moued are <br>No soule (whiles with the luggage of this clay <br>It clogged is) can follow thee halfe way; <br>Or see thy flight; which doth our thoughts outgoe <br>So fast, that now the lightning moues but slow: <br>But now thou art as high in heauen flowne <br>As heau'ns from vs; what soule besides thine owne <br>Can tell thy ioyes, or say he can relate <br>Thy glorious Iornals in that blessed state? <br>I enuie thee (Rich soule) I enuy thee, <br>Although I cannot yet thy glory see: <br>And thou (Great spirit) which her's follow'd hast <br>So fast, as none can follow thine so fast; <br>So farre as none can follow thine so farre, <br>(And if this flesh did not the passage barre <br>Had'st caught her) let me wonder at thy flight <br>Which long agone had'st lost the vulgar sight <br>And now mak'st proud the better eyes, that they <br>Can see thee les'ned in thine aery way; <br>So while thou mak'st her soule by progresse knowne <br>Thou mak'st a noble progresse of thine owne. <br>From this worlds carcasse hauing mounted hie <br>To that pure life of Immortalitie; <br>Since thine aspiring thoughts themselues so raise <br>That more may not beseeme a creatures praise, <br>Yet still thou vow'st her more; and euery yeare <br>Mak'st a new Progresse, while thou wandrest here; <br>Still vpward mount; and let thy makers praise <br>Honor thy Laura, and adorne thy laies. <br>And since thy Mus[es] head in heauen shrouds <br>Oh let her neuer stoope below the clouds: <br>And if those glorious sainted soules may know <br>Or what we doe, or what we sing below, <br>Those acts, those songs shall still content them best <br>Which praise those awfull powers that make them blest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Donne">John Donne</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=419771" data-title="The Harbinger de John Donne" data-description="to the Progresse.

TWo soules moue here, and mine (a third) must moue 
Paces of admiration, and of loue; 
Thy soule (Deare Virgin) whose this tribute is, 
Mou'd from this mortall sphere to liuely blisse, 
And yet moues still, and still aspires to ..."></div>
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