Posted by Joe on May 20, 19102 at 16:37:44:

I'd appreciate it if I could have a full ysis of this sonnet. THNKS.

Death, be not proud, though some have call-ED 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 picture be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow;
And soonest our best men with thee do go--
Rest of their bones and souls' 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!

Follow Ups:

• Re: ysis of Donne's Holy Sonnet X Awoke Mulu 08:22:48 4/09/103 (0)
• Re: ysis of Donne's Holy Sonnet X monique 11:05:31 9/11/102 (1)
  • Re: ysis of Donne's Holy Sonnet X Marina Krekic 19:26:22 9/17/102 (0)

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