Explore "Hymn to God, my God, in my Sickness" by John Donne on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Since I am coming to that Holy room, / Where, with Thy choir of saints forevermore, / I shall be made Thy music; as I come / I tune the instrument here at the door, / And what I must do then, think here before;
Whilst my physicians by their love are grown / Cosmographers, and I their map, who lie / Flat on this bed, that by them may be shown / That this is my southwest discovery, / Per fretum febris, by these straits to die;