Holy Sonnet VII
by John Donne
Pseudo-Martyr (1610), Ignatius His Conclave (1611), An Anatomy of the World (1611), Progress of the Soul (1612), Anniversary (1612). His sermons were published posthumously in three volumes, LXXX Sermons (1640), Fifty Sermons (1649), XXVI Sermons (1660), all edited by his son John. See also H.J.C. Grierson's 1912 edition of his work.
Holy Sonnet VII
by John Donne
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At the round earth's imagined corners blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall, overthrow,
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance, hath slain, and you whose eyes
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space,
For, if above all these my sins abound,
'Tis late to ask abundance of Thy grace,
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground
Teach me how to repent; for that's as good
As if Thou'dst sealed my pardon, with Thy blood.
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