Oh! I shall soon despair, when I shall see
That Thou lov’st mankind well, yet wilt not choose me,
And Satan hates me, yet is loth to lose me.
John Donne.
CXXIV
SONNET.
Death, be not proud, though some have callèd 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, 5