Verse > Anthologies > Henry Charles Beeching, ed. > Lyra Sacra
Henry Charles Beeching, ed. (1859–1919).  Lyra Sacra: A Book of Religious Verse.  1903.
Four Sonnets: III. “At the round earth’s imagin’d corners blow”
By John Donne (1573–1631)
AT the round earth’s imagin’d corners blow
Your trumpets, angels; and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom th’ flood did, and fire shall overthrow;        5
All whom war, death, age, ague’s 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 holy ground
Teach me how to repent, for that’s as good
As if Thou hadst sealed my pardon with Thy blood.

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