Groundhogs are for Poetry

Today is the day for blogger-wide silent poetry readings (which I learned of on Knitting Underway). I knew I wanted to post some Donne, my favorite poet of all. But rather than my trusty stand-by, favorite poem and likely wedding program motif "The Goodmorrow," I'm going a little religious. Not something often seen on this blog, but if anyone can make religion seem sexy, it's dear old John. And while this reading's supposed to be silent, if you read the poem aloud it's that much better:

Holy Sonnet XIV

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you
As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.