Welcome to Episode 237 of The Thinklings Podcast!
In this episode, Thinkling Boyd guides us through another work by the great poet George Herbert—this time, the poem Death. But first, we kick things off with some fun-nonsense, a little coffee talk, and a round of Books & Business ☕📚.
📚 Books & Business
Stearns: Me, Myself, and BobLittle: Keep Your KidsBoyd: The Household and the War for the CosmosCarter: A Tale of Two Cities📖 Main Content: Death by George Herbert
Thinkling Boyd continues his poetic series with a look at George Herbert’s profound meditation on death. Read along with the full poem below:
Death, thou wast once an uncouth hideous thing,
The sad effect of sadder groans:
Thy mouth was open, but thou couldst not sing.
For we considered thee as at some six
After the loss of life and sense,
Flesh being turned to dust, and bones to sticks.
We looked on this side of thee, shooting short;
The shells of fledge souls left behind,
Dry dust, which sheds no tears, but may extort.
But since our Savior’s death did put some blood
Thou art grown fair and full of grace,
Much in request, much sought for as a good.
For we do now behold thee gay and glad,
When souls shall wear their new array,
And all thy bones with beauty shall be clad.
Therefore we can go die as sleep, and trust
Unto an honest faithful grave;
Making our pillows either down, or dust.