Meditation XVII, by John Donne

I found this piece of writing here, while looking for a copy of the "Europa Regina" map. This writing grabbed my attention, as I've always been very interested in poetry and prose from the 14'th, 15'th, 16'th, 17'th, 18'th centuries. So I just wanted to share this with all of you since it echoes the soul in some of my recent writings:

No man is an Iland, intire of itselfe; every man
is a peece of the Continent, a part of the maine;
if a Clod bee washed away by the Sea, Europe
is the lesse, as well as if a Promontorie were, as
well as if a Manor of thy friends or of thine
owne were; any mans death diminishes me,
because I am involved in Mankinde;
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; It tolls for thee.

(John Donne, Meditation XVII, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, 1623)

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