Death be not proud

Date: 15 June 2005 03:37:09

Holy Sonnets - X
John Donne

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 they stroake; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

I was introduced to John Donne in my Year 11 English class. Our teacher caught on that I wasn't exactly enamoured with the work of another poet the class was studying. He saw me after class and asked if I'd be interested in staying behind after school and studying someone else. I said, "Why not?" And I was thus introduced to Donne.

As with art [on which I know nothing, save what I like], the religious works grab me more, though I enjoy the great variety of topics on which he wrote. The depth of thought and the imagery used speaks to me in ways more direct text may not. Though there are times for such texts, when I have some time spare I like nothing better than the deep imagery poetry is so capable of communicating.

I am truly thankful for my English teacher for introducing me to Donne and, more specially the giving up of his time after school and taking on extra work to introduce me to Donne's poetry. I was sometimes a bit up-front in class [hence my teacher's seeing I was not impressed with the poet everyone else was doing] and a bit too noisy at times. But I will always remember him and be thankful that I had him as a teacher.