I

Which me in mind of my slack service puts ;
For which all night I wake, to plague mine eyes.
Shoot, Star! once more, and if I be thy mark
Thou shalt hit me, for thee I'll meet withal.
Let mine eyes once more see thee in the dark!
Else they with ceaseless waking out will fall:
And if again such time and place I lose

To close with thee, let mine eyes never close.

LOVING THESE ALSO

F there were, O! an Hellespont of cream Between us, milk-white Mistress! I would swim

To you, to show to both my love's extreme,

Leander-like, yea! dive from brim to brim.
But met I with a butter'd pippin-pie

Floating upon 't, that would I make my boat
To waft me to you without jeopardy:
Though sea-sick I might be while it did float.
Yet if a storm should rise, by night or day,
Of sugar-snows or hail of care-aways,
Then if I found a pancake in my way,

It like a plank should bear me to your quays.
Which having found, if they tobacco kept,
The smoke should dry me well before I slept.

JOHN DONNE

BREAK OF DAY

TAY, O SWEET! and do not rise!

STAY,

The light that shines comes from thine eyes :

The day breaks not; it is my heart,

Because that you and I must part.

Stay! or else my joys will die,
And perish in their infancy.

'Tis true, 'tis day: what though it be?
O wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise because 'tis light?
Did we lie down because 'twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep us together.

Light hath no tongue, but is all eye:
If it could speak as well as spy,
This were the worst that it could say,
That being well I fain would stay,

And that I loved my heart and honour so
That I would not from him that had them go.

Must business thee from hence remove?

Oh, that's the worst disease of love.
The poor, the foul, the false, love can

Admit, but not the busied man.

He which hath business, and makes love, doth do Such wrong as when a married man should woo.

THE FUNERAL

WHOEVER

HOEVER comes to shroud me, do not harm
Nor question much

That subtle wreath of hair about mine arm!

The mystery, the sign you must not touch:
For 'tis my outward soul,

Viceroy to that which, unto heaven being gone,
Will leave this to controul

And keep these limbs, her provinces, from dissolution.

For if the sinewy thread my brain lets fall
Through every part

Can tie those parts and make me one of all, Those hairs, which upward grew and strength and art Have from a better brain,

Can better do 't: except she mean'd that I
By this should know my pain,

As prisoners then are manacled, when they're

condemn'd to die.

Whate'er she mean'd by 't, bury it with me!
For since I am

Love's Martyr, it might breed idolatry
If into other hands these relics came.
As 'twas humility

T'afford to it all that a soul can do,

So 'tis some bravery

That, since you would have none of me, I bury

some of you.

EPITHALAMION

UP! youths and virgins! up, and praise

The God whose nights outshine his days!
Hymen, whose hallow'd rites

Could never boast of brighter lights,
Whose bonds pass liberty.

Two of your troop, that with the morn were free,
Are now waged to his war;

Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star!

What joy or honours can compare
With holy nuptials, when they are

Made out of equal parts

Of years, of states, of hands, of hearts;
When in the happy choice

The spouse and spousèd have the foremost voice?

Such, glad of Hymen's war,

Live what they are

And long perfection see:

And such ours be.

Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star!

The solemn state of this one night
Were fit to last an age's light;

But there are rites behind

Have less of state and more of kind:

Love's wealthy crop of kisses,

And fruitful harvest of his mother's blisses.

Sound then to Hymen's war!

That what these are,

Who will perfection see

May haste to be.

Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star!

Love's Commonwealth consists of toys;
His Council are those antic boys,

Games, Laughter, Sports, Delights,
That triumph with him on these nights:
To whom we must give way,

For now their reign begins, and lasts till day.
They sweeten Hymen's war,

And in that jar

Make all, that married be,
Perfection see.

Shine, Hesperus! shine forth, thou wished star!

Why stays the bridegroom to invade

Her that would be a matron made?

Good-night! whilst yet we may

Good-night to you a virgin say.

To-morrow rise the same

Your mother is, and use a nobler name!