Sun Rising BY JOHN DONNE 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,Continue reading “The Sun Rising : John Donne : : Morning Poems : :”
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MADHU MALTI 