At the round earth's imagined corners, blow Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise From death, you numberless infinities Of souls **** All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.
John Donne, John Daniel Thieme (2014). “John Donne Holy Sonnets: with an introduction by John Daniel Thieme”, p.23, Vicarage Hill Press
