
Submit Poems	Share Poems	Favorites Poems

rss feed

Birthday Poems

Best Birthday Poems

iloveim

ILoveIM.com is a web messenger application that allows you to stay connected with your favorite Instant Messenger almost anywhere.

Wordpress Themes

Unique Themes & Templates for wordpress, download and create your own.

Stock Exchange Chat

Stock exchange community, chat room for each quote

GTalk

Google Talk is a computer application for Voice over IP and instant messaging.

Self Imrovement

Videos for self improvement, self help, communication skills

MSN Web Messenger

MSN Web Messenger full review, tips and screen shots.

how to be witty

I believe that every one of us can be witty in their own way. Because being witty is not something to be taught at schools or learnt in books

Facebook Applications

Do you want to know the latest facebook applications?

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,

Submited By :

sara

Date:

15 September 2006

Author:

John Donne

Currently 2.88/5
1
2
3
4
5

Rating: 2.9/5 (8 votes cast)

Famous Poems

0 comments

Add to favorites

Send To Friend

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 -

Related Poems

Poetry

I didn't know what to say, my mouth could not speak my eyes could not see.

My River

My river runs to thee. Blue sea, wilt thou welcome me? My river awaits reply.

The Quangle Wangles Hat

On the top of the Crumpetty Tree The Quangle Wangle sat, But his face you could not see,

A Charge

If thou hast squander'd years to grave a gem Commission'd by thy absent Lord, and while 'Tis incomplete,

My Last Duchess

That's my last duchess painted on the wall, Looking as if she were alive. I call That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands

Saving Your Comment

Leave Your Comment

Poems Pedia is a place where you can share poems with others, with a very easy interface that lets you to search and navigate through the several poems categories, send them to your friends, see others feedback and rate them.

sara

Tom Zart

katman

levorniastaley

moises ortega