John Donne

(24 January 1572 - 31 March 1631 / London, England)

John Donne Poems

21. TO MR. I. P. 4/9/2010
22. To George Herbert, 4/9/2010
23. The Will 4/9/2010
24. The Undertaking 1/3/2003
25. The Triple Fool 1/13/2003
26. The Token 1/1/2004
27. The Sun Rising 5/14/2001
28. The Soule 10/21/2014
29. The Relic 5/14/2001
30. The Prohibition 1/3/2003
31. The Primrose 1/13/2003
32. The Paradox 1/3/2003
33. The Message 1/3/2003
34. The Legacy 1/3/2003
35. The Indifferent 5/14/2001
36. The Harbinger 4/9/2010
37. The Funerall 1/3/2003
38. The Flea 1/3/2003
39. The Expiration 1/3/2003
40. The Ecstasy 5/14/2001

Holy Sonnet X

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,

[Hata Bildir]