| John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896. | | | Divine Poems
Holy Sonnets | | X. “Death, be not proud, though some have called thee” |
| | | 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 picture be, | 5 |
| 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’rt slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, | |
| And dost 1 with poison, war, and sickness dwell, | 10 |
| 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. | |
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