|
by John
Donne |
| All Kings, and all their favourites, |
| All glory of honours, beauties, wits, |
| The sun itself, which makes times, as they pass, |
| Is elder by a year now than it was |
| When thou and I first one another saw : |
| All other things to their destruction draw, |
| Only our love hath no decay; |
| This no tomorrow hath, nor yesterday, |
| Running it never runs from us away, |
| But truly keeps his first, last,
everlasting day.
|
| Two graves must hide thine and my corse; |
| If one might, death were no divorce. |
| Alas, as well as other Princes, we |
| (Who Prince enough in one another be) |
| Must leave at last in death these eyes and ears, |
| Oft fed with true oaths, and with sweet salt tears; |
| But souls where nothing dwells but love |
| (All other thoughts being inmates) then shall prove |
| This, or a love increasèd there above, |
| When bodies to their graves,
souls from their graves remove.
|
| And then we shall be throughly blest; |
| But we no more than all the rest. |
| Here upon earth we're Kings, and none but we |
| Can be such Kings, nor of such objects be; |
| Who is so safe as we? where none can do |
| Treason to us, except one of us two. |
| True and false fears let us refrain, |
| Let us love nobly, and live, and add again |
| Years and years unto years, till we attain |
| To write threescore: this is the second of our reign. |
Thursday, 24 September 2015
The Anniversary
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment