Songs

6. IV. Oh my blacke Soule! Now thou art summoned

by Geoffrey Gordon From At the round earths imagin'd corners

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Text

6. IV. Oh my blacke Soule! Now thou art summoned
source: John Donne

Oh my blacke Soule! now thou art summoned
By sicknesse, deaths herald, and champion;
Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled,
Or like a thiefe, which till deaths doome be read,
Wisheth himselfe delivered from prison;
But damn'd and hal'd to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke;
But who shall give thee that grace to beginne?
Oh make thy selfe with holy mourning blacke,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sinne;
Or wash thee in Christs blood, which hath this might
That being red, it dyes red soules to white.

Composer

Geoffrey Gordon

https://www.geoffreygordoncomp...

Poet

John Donne

John Donne was an English poet and cleric in the Church of England. He is considered the pre-eminent representative of the metaphysical poets. He studied at Hart Hall, Oxford, which is now Hertford College, best known for its iconic Hertford…

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