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1
THE BROKEN HEART.
by John Donne
He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour ;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
I saw a flash of powder burn a day?
Ah, what a trifle
is a heart,
If once into love's hands it come !
All other griefs allow a part
To other
griefs, and ask themselves but some ;
They come to us, but us love draws ;
He swallows us and never chaws ;
By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ;
He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.
If
'twere not so, what did become
Of my heart when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
But from the room I carried none with me.
If it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to
show
More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !
At one first blow did shiver it as glass.
Yet
nothing can to nothing fall,
Nor any place be empty quite ;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
But after one such love, can love no more.
 |
Ben Jonson
T H E F
O R E S T .
IX. — SONG. — TO CELIA.
Drink to me, only with thine eyes,
And I will pledge with mine ;
Or leave a kiss but in the cup,
And I'll not look for wine.
The thirst,
that from the soul doth rise, 5
Doth ask a drink divine :
But
might I of Jove's nectar sup,
I would not change for thine.
I sent thee late a rosy wreath,
Not so much honoring thee, 10
As
giving it a hope, that there
It could not wither'd be.
But thou thereon didst only breathe,
And sent'st it back to me :
Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, 15
Not of itself,
but thee.
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2
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LOVERS' INFINITENESS.
by
John Donne
IF yet I have not all thy love,
Dear, I shall never have it all ;
I cannot breathe one other sigh, to
move,
Nor can intreat one other tear to fall ;
And all my treasure, which should purchase thee,
Sighs, tears, and
oaths, and letters I have spent ;
Yet no more can be due to me,
Than at the bargain made was meant.
If then thy gift
of love were partial,
That some to me, some should to others fall,
Dear, I shall never have thee all.
Or
if then thou gavest me all,
All was but all, which thou hadst then ;
But if in thy heart since there be or shall
New
love created be by other men,
Which have their stocks entire, and can in tears,
In sighs, in oaths, and letters, outbid
me,
This new love may beget new fears,
For this love was not vow'd by thee.
And yet it was, thy gift being general
;
The ground, thy heart, is mine ; what ever shall
Grow there, dear, I should have it all.
Yet
I would not have all yet.
He that hath all can have no more ;
And since my love doth every day admit
New growth,
thou shouldst have new rewards in store ;
Thou canst not every day give me thy heart,
If thou canst give it, then thou
never gavest it ;
Love's riddles are, that though thy heart depart,
It stays at home, and thou with losing savest it
;
But we will have a way more liberal,
Than changing hearts, to join them ; so we shall
Be one, and
one another's all.
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