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THE

POETICAL WORKS

or

Dr. JOHN DONNE.

DEAN OF ST. PAUL'S, LONDON.
CONTAINING HIS

SONGS, SONNETS, DIVINE POEMS, & EPIGRAMS.

I will nor draw the envy to engross

All Ay perfections, or weep all our loss;

Those are too nuin'rous for an eletie.

And this too great to be cxprtss'd by me.

Tho' ev'ry pen should share a distinct part,

Ye: thou ait theme enough to try all sit.

Let others carve the rest; it shall suffice

I on thy tomb this epitaph incise:

Here lies a king that rul'd, as he taought fit,

T'::: universal monarchy of wit:

Here lie two (lameni, and both those the best,

Apollo's first, at last the true God's priest.

THO. CARY

Vol. ir.

LONDON;

PRINTED FOR, AND UNDER THE DIRECTION OF,

G.CAWTHORN, BRITISH LIBRARY, STRAND.

POEMS, SONGS, SONNETS.

THE FLEA.

Mark but this Flea, and mark, in this

How little that which thou deny'st me is;

Me it suck'd first, and now sucks thee,

And in this Flea our two bloods mingled be.

Confess it: this cannot be said

A sin or shame, or loss of maidenhead;

Yet this enjoys before it woo,

And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two;

And this, alas! is more than we could do.

Oh! stay; three lives in one Frea spare,
Where we almost, nay, more than marry'd are.
This Flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed and marriage temple is.
Tho' parents grudge, and you, we 're met.
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet;
Tho' use make you apt to kill mc,
Let not to that self-murder added be.
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since

Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence? 20

Wherein could this Flea guilty be,

Except in that blood which it suck'd from thee?

Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou

Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now:

'Tis true; then learn how false fears be:

Just so much honour, when thdu yieldst to me,

Will waste, as this Flea's death took life from thee. 27

THE GOOD-MORROW.

i Wonner, by my troth! what thou and I

Did till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then,

But suck'd on childish pleasures sillily?

Or slumber'd we in the seven-sleepers' den?

''f was so; but as all pleasures fancies be,

If ever any beauty I did see,

Which I desir'd and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.

And now Good-morrow to our waking souls,

Which watch not one another out of fear;

For love, all love of other sights controuls, 20

And makes one little room an every-where.

Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone,

Let maps to other worlns our world have shown,

Let us possess one world; each hath one, and is one.

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