Death Be Not Proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

by John Donne

Comments (55)

what an incredible poem from a legend....just telling us that death doesn't have power over us though he brags and feels full of himself.wow
I Love to read the Poem.
So pretty, i enjoy reading the poem must especially stanza 1 line 12
A man may be mortal, but he is immortal by his deeds.
Live this! Very deep powerful and entertaining
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