Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919). Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse. 1903.
By John Donne (1573–1631)Four Sonnets: IV. “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 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! | |