Read "Resurrection, Imperfect" by John Donne online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
Sleep, sleep, old sun, thou canst not have repass'd, / As yet, the wound thou took'st on Friday last; / Sleep then, and rest; the world may bear thy stay; / A better sun rose before thee today; / Who-not content to enlighten all that dwell / On the earth's face, as thou-enlighten'd hell, / And made the dark fires languish in that vale, / As at thy presence here our fires grow pale; / Whose body, having walk'd on earth, and now / Hasting to heaven, would-that He might allow / Himself unto all stations, and fill all- / For these three days become a mineral. / He was all gold when He lay down, but rose / All tincture, and doth not alone dispose / Leaden and iron wills to good, but is / Of power to make e'en sinful flesh like his. / Had one of those, whose credulous piety / Thought that a soul one might discern and see / Go from a body, at this sepulchre been, / And, issuing from the sheet, this body seen, / He would have justly thought this body a soul, / If not of any man, yet of the whole.
Desunt Caetera.