| John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896. | | | Divine Poems
Holy Sonnets | | VII. “At the round earth’s imagined corners blow” |
| | | 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 o’erthrow, | 5 |
| All whom war, death, 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, | 10 |
| ’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 hadst seal’d my pardon with Thy blood. 1 | |
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