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Holy Sonnet IV: Oh My Black Soul! Now Art Thou Summoned

John Donne

Oh my black soul! now art thou summoned
By sickness, death's herald, and champion;
Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turn to whence he is fled;
Or like a thief, which till death's doom be read,
Wisheth himself delivered from prison,
But damned and haled to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack;
But who shall give thee that grace to begin?
Oh make thy self with holy mourning black,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
Or wash thee in Christ's blood, which hath this might
That being red, it dyes red souls to white.

Added: 6 Oct 2002 | Last Read: 18 Oct 2018 6:56 PM | Viewed: 6269 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7669/ | Viewed on 18 October 2018.
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