Moist, with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule
\nShall (though she now be in extreme degree
\nToo stony hard, and yet too fleshly) be
\nFreed by that drop, from being starved, hard, or foul,
\nAnd life, by this death abled, shall control
\nDeath, whom thy death slew; nor shall to me
\nFear of first or last death, bring misery,
\nIf in thy little book my name thou enroll,
\nFlesh in that long sleep is not putrified,
\nBut made that there, of which, and for which \u2019twas;
\nNor can by other means be glorified.
\nMay then sins sleep, and deaths soon from me pass,
\nThat waked from both, I again risen may
\nSalute the last, and everlasting day.<\/p>\n
\u201d\u201cJohn Donne (1572-1631)<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Moist, with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule Shall (though she now be in extreme degree Too stony hard, and yet too fleshly) be Freed by that drop, from being starved, hard, or foul, And life, by this…<\/span><\/p>\n