Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HOLY SONNET: 4, by JOHN DONNE



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HOLY SONNET: 4, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: O my black soul! Now thou art summoned
Last Line: That being red, it dyes red soules to white.
Variant Title(s): Holy Sonnets: 2


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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