Death Be Not Proud by John Donne read by Jem

Death, be not proud BY JOHN DONNEDeath, be not proud, though some have called 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 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 wellAnd better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?One short sleep past, we wake eternallyAnd death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.Find us online at thatsnotcanon.com/epigraphySubscribe to us on ITUNES, STITCHER, SPOTIFY, RADIOPUBLIC or your podcatcher of choice.Find us on FACEBOOK, TWITTER or INSTAGRAM. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.