1633 

                               DEATH BE NOT PROUD
                           (From Divine Meditations)

                                 by John Donne







şiElectronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
DAK Upgraded Edition, Copyright 2000, DAK Industries 2000, Inc(R)şI

{DEATH_BE_NOT_PROUD
                        DEATH BE NOT PROUD
-
       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.
-
-
                               THE END