Oh do not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember, thou wast one.
But yet thou canst not die, I know;
To leave this world behind, is death,
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapours with thy breath.
Or if, when thou, the world’s soul, go`st,
It stay, ’tis but thy carcase then,
The fairest woman, but thy ghost,
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men.
Oh wrangling schools, that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire,
That this her fever might be it ?
And yet she cannot waste by this,
Nor long bear this torturing wrong,
For much corruption needful is
To fuel such a fever long.
These burning fits but meteors be,
Whose matter in thee is soon spent.
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,
Are unchangeable firmament.
Yet ’twas of my mind, seizing thee,
Though it in thee cannot persever.
For I had rather owner be
Of thee one hour, than all else ever.
Leave a guest comment (subject to review)
Comments
-
I never understood why people say poems are good that they don't understand. Aye, me...
I love these two lines:
[[But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapours with thy breath.]]
Amazing.
-
this is a deep and thoughtful peice and i like it. I don't neccisarily understand it but it is very good. I think he deserves the credit for such an awsome poet and beautiful poetry.
Love Always
Megan -
beautiful@meta.com
"Or if, when thou, the world’s soul, go`st,
It stay, ’tis but thy carcase then,
The fairest woman, but thy ghost,
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men."
Oh! this is a very great piece of thought. Very deep rather metaphysical.
Adding your comment:
