No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
That’s the great poem by John Donne. Many years ago when I was in the choir of John Woodworth at the Arlington Street Church in Boston, we sang an anthem with those words, but I can’t remember now who wrote that music. Powerful indeed.