"Rave on, John Donne" by Van Morrison

 

John Donne, 1572 - 1631

Rave on John Donne, rave on thy Holy fool

Down through the weeks of ages

In the moss borne dark dank pools

Rave on, down through the industrial revolution

Empiricism, atomic and nuclear age

Rave on down through time and space down through the corridors

Rave on words on printed page

Rave on, you left us infinity

And well pressed pages torn to fade

Drive on with wild abandon

Uptempo, frenzied heels

Rave on, Walt Whitman, nose down in wet grass

Rave on fill the senses

On nature's bright green shady path

Rave on Omar Khayyam, Rave on Kahlil Gibran

Oh, what sweet wine we drinketh

The celebration will be held

We will partake the wine and break the Holy bread

Rave on let a man come out of Ireland

Rave on Mr. Yeats,

Rave on down through the Holy Rosey Cross

Rave on down through theosophy, and the Golden Dawn

Rave on through the writing of "A Vision"

Rave on, Rave on, Rave on, Rave on, Rave on, Rave on

Rave on John Donne, rave on thy Holy fool

Down through the weeks of ages

In the moss borne dark dank pools

Rave on, down though the industrial revolution

Empiricism, atomic and nuclear age

Rave on words on printed page

"Holy Sonnets: Death, be not proud" by John Donne

 

At Mount Royal Cemetery, 2016

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 thy 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 past, we wake eternally

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.