John Donne - "d**h, be not proud" (Holy Sonnet X) lyrics

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John Donne - "d**h, be not proud" (Holy Sonnet X) lyrics

d**h 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 d**h, nor yet canst thou k** 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 d**h shall be no more; d**h, thou shalt die.