John Donne Poem

The Holy Ghost

0
Please log in or register to do it.

  O Holy Ghost, whose temple I 
Am, but of mud walls , and condensèd dust, 
  And being sacrilegiously 
Half wasted with youth’s fires of pride and lust, 
              Must with new storms be weather-beat, 
              Double in my heart Thy flame, 
Which let devout sad tears intend, and let—
Though this glass lanthorn, flesh, do suffer maim—
Fire, sacrifice, priest, altar be the same. 

The Trinity
The Son

Reactions

0
0
0
0
0
0
Already reacted for this post.

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

GIF