And soonest our best men with thee do go,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings anddesperate men
desperate menJohn Donne, Death, be not proud
John Donne, Death, be not proud
