Death Be Not Proud (2003)
A song I wrote some seven years ago based on this sonnet by John Donne (with a nod to Dylan Thomas in there, too):
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.
It seems a fitting post for both the middle of the Easter season, and for the day following Earth Day (see my last post, especially the bit about The Resurrection and the Environment).
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