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Holy Sonnet 4 by John Donne
Oh my blacke Soule! now thou art summoned
By sicknesse, deaths herald, and champion;
Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled,
Or like a thiefe, which till deaths doome be read,
Wisheth himselfe delivered from prison;
But damn’d and hal’d to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke;
But who shall give thee that grace to beginne?
Oh make thy selfe with holy mourning blacke,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sinne;
Or wash thee in Christs blood, which hath this might
That being red, it dyes red soules to white.
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Holy Sonnet 4 by John Donne - Read by Arthur L Wood
Теги
PoetryEnglish poetryEnglish literatureEnglishEnglish languagepoetry from the shiresArthur L Woodpoetry with subtitlesASMR literatureEnglish manPoetry from the ShiresJohn donejohn DonneJohn DonneHoly Sonnets by John DonneHoly Sonnet by John DonneJohn Donne Arthur L WoodHoly Sonnet by John Donne read by Arthur L WoodHoly Sonnets DonneSonnet DonneHoly Sonnet 4Holy Sonnet 4 by John DonneOh my black soul