Wednesday, August 15, 2007

Holy Sonnet X


Death, be not proud


Death, be not proud, though some have called thee

Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;

For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow

Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.

From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,

Much pleasure: then from thee much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee do go,

Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.

Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,

And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well

And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

--John Donne

9 comments:

LawAndGospel said...

Thanks for sharing this beautiful sonnet that I have not read in awhile. The rainbow says it best. Peace and prayers.

Diane said...

thank you for responding. It's been awhile since I've read the metaphysical poets, too.

Pastor Eric said...

I like that...Thank you.

Hot Cup Lutheran said...

Mr. Donne has his head screwed on well that's for sure... good stuff.

Grandmère Mimi said...

That's the best, Diane. Donne says it well. God bless you as you officiate at her funeral.

Presbyterian Gal said...

That is beautiful.

Serena said...

Beautiful indeed. Blessings as you prepare to lead people in celebrating this special person's life.

Marsha said...

John Donne is one of my favorites... I'm always left with the hope of heaven.

David said...

Very nice. B must have been a wonderful person for so many to love her so.