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  1. pg,

    Lightbulb Please help me my teachers

    Hi for every one Iwant from you explain this poem by John Donne

    -Death,be not proud

    Death,be not proud,though some have called 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 but they pictures be,
    Much pleasure-then,from thee much more must flow;
    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 passed,we make eternally,
    And death shall be no more;death,thou shalt die.

    Finally..thank you for every one

  2. Editor,
    English Teacher
    • Member Info
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      • British English
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      • UK
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      • Laos

    • Join Date: Nov 2002
    • Posts: 60,670

    Re: Please help me my teachers

    Firstly, what do you understand of the poem?

  3. Casiopea's Avatar

    • Join Date: Sep 2003
    • Posts: 12,970

    Re: Please help me my teachers

    Here's some help with the lines:

    Death, don't be so proud of yourself.
    Most people are afraid of you, afraid of dying, but they shouldn't be.
    Only people who believe in death fear death.
    I feel sorry for you, Death; you are not like humans; you can never die, nor can you kill me; I pity you more than I fear you.
    Sleep is similar to being dead; it's dream-like.
    There's a great deal of pleasure in sleeping, so there must be a great deal more of pleasure in death.
    Men will die, but it's a good thing; they will rest in peace and receive God's graces. Death is something to look forward to, not something to fear.
    Death, you really have no power at all. You can't choose who will die. Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men (suicides, murderers) choose when a person is to die.
    Your friends are poison, war, and sickness. What dignity or power is there in hanging around that group?
    You have nothing we can't get somewhere else. Drugs can give us the same feeling that death gives us. And the feeling is good - not frightening like your presence.
    So, how can you be proud, Death?
    One sleep is all it takes.
    Once I am dead, I won't have to be afraid of you anymore. You won't exist.

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