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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.

Holy Sonnets: Death, be not
proud

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MOTIVATIONAL QUOTE: Turn your fears into faith and your doubts into determination!
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Have a glorious week ahead!

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