Death, be not proud, though some have callèd theeMighty and dreadful, for thou art not so:For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrowDie not, poor Death; nor yet canst thou kill me.From Rest and Sleep, which but thy picture be,Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow;And soonest our best men with thee do go—Rest of their bones and souls’ delivery!Thou’rt 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 wellAnd 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!
Author
John Donne quotes & passages
1 passage by John Donne, from Holy Sonnet X. John Donne died in 1631, so the words are in the public domain. Every passage is copied word for word from the Project Gutenberg text.
New passages, now and then
We keep adding passages and collections. Leave your email and we’ll tell you when something new lands.
Optional. One short email per new collection, and nothing else.