« AnteriorContinuar »
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
To move, but doth if th other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
Such wilt thou be to me, who must
Like th other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
(From Poems, with Elegies on the Author's Death, 1633)
Sweetest Love, I do not go
For weariness of thee,
A fitter Love for me;
But since that I
Thus by feignèd death to die.
Yesternight the sun went hence,
And yet is here to-day; He hath no desire nor sense,
Nar half so short a way.
Then fear not me;
O how feeble is man's power,
That, if good fortune fall, Cannot add another hour,
Nor a lost hour recall.
But come bad chance,
Itself o'er us ť advance.
When thou sigh’st, thou sigh'st no wind, But sigh’st my
away; When thou weep'st, unkindly kind,
My life's-blood doth decay.
It cannot be
That art the best of me.
Let not thy divining heart
Forethink me any ill; Destiny may take thy part
And may thy fears fulfil;
But think that we
Alive, ne'er parted be.
A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER
(First published 1631)
Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run
And do run still, though still I do deplore? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sins their door? Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallow'd in, a score? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done;
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore; But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore: And having done that, Thou hast done;
I fear no more.
(From The Temple, 1631)
For thou must die.
Sweet rose, whose hue angrie and brave
And thou must die.
Sweet spring, full of sweet days and roses,
And all must die.
Only a sweet and vertuous soul,
Then chiefly lives.
(From the same)
When God at first made man,
Contract into a span.'
So strength first made a way; Then beautie flow'd, then wisdome, honour,
pleasure; When almost all was out, God made a stay, Perceiving that, alone of all His treasure,
Rest in the bottome lay.
'For if I should,' said He,
So both should losers be.
Yet let him keep the rest, But keep them with repining restlessnesse: Let him be rich and wearie, that at least, If goodnesse leade him not, yet wearinesse
May tosse him to my breast.'
(From the same)
In all things Thee to see,
To do it as for Thee:
Not rudely, as a beast,
To runne into an action;
And give it his perfection.
A man that looks on glasse,
On it may stay his eye;
And then the heav'n espie.
All may of Thee partake:
Nothing can be so mean, Which with his tincture ‘for Thy sake,'
Will not grow bright and clean.
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgerie divine;
Makes that and th' action fine.
This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold; For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for lesse be told.