John Donne’s Tailor

Read the angel's manifest
Though not a tag around the toe —
Upon his death this soul released
May to another body go

Time elapsed, go out of time,
Delivered from the body rise
That by the blood the soul may climb
And by the flesh take other eyes

Below I see that suit of clothes
That served me well enough to live,
How well the custom-tailor chose —
It wore as long as life would give

Now bring another bolt of light,
Cut out the pattern of that love
And suit me now to my delight,
The hand of God into the glove

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