II. John Donne

MOYST with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule

Shall—though she be now in extreme degree

Too stony hard, and yet too fleshly—bee

Freed by that drop from being starv’d, hard, or foule,

And life, by this death abled, shall controule

Death, whom thy death slue; nor shall to mee

Feare of first or last death bring miserie,

If in thy little booke my name thou enroules:

Flesh in that long sleep is not putrified,

But made that there of which, and for which, ’twas,

Nor can be other meanes be glorified.

May then sinnes sleep, and death soone from me passe,

That, wakt from both, I againe risen, may

Salute the last, and everlasting day.