Friday, April 28, 2006

death be not proud

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.
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)


(...)

(...)

(couldn't speak a word when i heard the news. then could only whisper the Psalm 23 again and again.)

at this difficult time, may God guard and keep you.
may the warm and sweet memories comfort you.
think of you with sympathy

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

hope the "news" which u heard wouldn't be too bad.
life is still tough for me indeed :( especially these few days. i don't know what to do...

6:42 PM  

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