"Death, be not proud"

Andrew, a friend from university days, put the great sonnet by John Donne as his facebook status recently. As he said, he could find no better words to say it. A couple of days ago, we were phoned with the news that the disabled daughter of James and Lynn - whose tender care for her was for me a revelation of God's love at New Wine three years ago - had unexpectedly died.  So it's really with her and them in mind that I include these two quotations.

"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." – John Donne

"Death is not the extinguishing of the light; it is putting out the lamp because the dawn has come." ~ Rabindranath Tagore.

Recently I read St Paul, writing to the Christians in Thessalonica, urging them "not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep". 

Stanley Spencer, Resurrection in Cookham Churchyard