Brat Farrar (bratfarrar) wrote,
Brat Farrar
bratfarrar

poem: Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud

-John Donne


Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art 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.



An over-exposed poem, perhaps, but a former colleague of my father's just died fairly suddenly of cancer, and it has me in a bit of a mood.
Tags: poetry
Subscribe

Posts from This Journal “poetry” Tag

  • poem: August

    - Hilaire Belloc The soldier month, the bulwark of the year, That never more shall hear such victories told; He stands apparent with his…

  • poem: Te Deum

    - Charles Reznikoff Not because of victories I sing, having none, but for the common sunshine, the breeze, the largess of the spring. Not for…

  • poem: from XAIPE

    - e.e. cummings i thank You God for most this amazing day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything…

  • Post a new comment

    Error

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.
  • 6 comments