Death, be not proud by John Donne
Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud BY JOHN DONNE 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. Paraphrase of the Poem Death Be not Proud O! Death! Do not be arrogant, Although some men of letters have called you immensely powerful, Death! You are not as mighty and intimidating as you seem. Because, the people that you think you have overcome, actually don't die ...