Donne on death

I have never been much of a romantic; certainly not one for poetry.


Still, this particular sonnet has touched me deeply. I enjoy reflecting on it as I consider that death for the Christian, while it brings temporary grief and sorrow to those left behind, is the beginning of life eternal. (See also Philippians 1:20-24)


I was introduced to the sonnet watching the movie Wit, which is based on a play of the same name. The story follows Professor Vivian Bearing, scholar of 17th century poetry, from when she is diagnosed with Stage IV metastatic ovarian cancer, unto the point of death. 


Incidentally, I recommend anybody in the health profession watch this film, as it gives into the patient's perspective, and a much-needed reminder that patients are people - not simply case reports.


As for the poem, Professor Bearing discovers throughout the film that Donne's intention is speaking of death is not a grandiose attempt to overcome the idea of death with melodramatics, but rather a simple acknowledgement of death for what it is (for a Christian, at least): a breath, a comma, a pause, between this world and the life everlasting.


                     ___________________________


Death be not proud, Divine Sonnet X
    by John Donne (1572-1631)

Death be not proud, though some have callèd thee

Mighty 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 than thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more, death, thou shalt die.

                     ___________________________


Here is Prof Bearing reminiscing on her academic life, and a discussion with her mentor, who articulates what I tried to above, though much better. It must be the English accent...





Finally, you can hear Emma Thompson's beautiful recitation of the sonnet (most of it) below.





In Christ, what is left to fear, if not death?
SG