Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
'For Lovers of God Everywhere: Poems of the Christian Mystics'
By Roger Housden (Author)
In this collection, Roger introduces us to some of the foremost poets of both the Eastern and Western Christian traditions. He takes us from the wisdom of the Desert Fathers to the passion of St. Augustine, through the medieval ecstasies of St. Francis of Assisi and St. Catherine of Siena, to the subtleties of St. John of the Cross and St. Teresa of Avila; and on to contemporary voices such as Rainer Maria Rilke, T.S. Eliot, and Mary Oliver. Roger's insightful commentary on each poem inspires us to take its words more deeply into our souls and shows how the mystical tradition transcends sectarian divides and speaks to the heart of humanity.