Finally a biography of John Donne that captures his eccentricities, his contradictions, his fabulous twists and turns, his trickiness, and—as one critic has put it—his thinking “awry and squint.” ...

Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deny'st me is; It sucked me first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea, our two bloods mingled be; Thou knowest that this cannot ...

A rare book collector has been left with a mystery after a £4000 volume of John Donne's poetry disappeared after an auction ...

[N]ever send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee." Poet John Donne wrote these lines in his "Meditation XVII" as the feared Black Death ravaged his native London in 1624. The plague ...

“Send not to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.” — John Donne ...

A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead. Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered, swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea ...