Death Be Not Proud
HOLY SONNETS.
X.
by John Done
(1572-1641)
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[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with the 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,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke ; why swell thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die.
.
HOLY SONNETS.
X.
by John Done
(1572-1641)
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[s] be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with the 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,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke ; why swell thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And Death shall be no more ; Death, thou shalt die.
.
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WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF BLACK AND WHITE
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He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life
~Mohammad Ali
~Mohammad Ali