Death Be Not Proud

DEATH be not proud, though some have called theeMighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.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 thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne

Without the Resurrection these words would be flowery prose

and little more. But because of the Resurrection

Donne 's poem shines light on eternal truth.
May the Risen Christ

shine His face upon you

now

and for ever.