To his Watch, When He Could Not Sleep
Uncessant Minutes, whil'st you move
The time that tells our life, which
though it run
Never so fast or farr, you'r new
Short steps shall overtake; for though life well
May scape his own Account, it shall not yours,
You are Death's Auditors, that both divide
And summ what ere that life inspir'd endures
Past a beginning, and through you we bide
The doom of Fate, whose unrecall'd Decree
You date, bring, execute; making what's new,
Ill and good, old, for as we die in you,
You die in Time, Time in Eternity.
To Her face
Fatal Aspect ! that hast an Influence
More powerful far than those Immortal Fires
That but incline the Will and move the Sense,
Which thou alone contrain'st, kindling Desires
Of such an holy force, as more inspires
The Soul with Knowledge, than Experience
Or Revelation can do with all
Their borrow'd helps : Sacred Astonishment
Sits on thy Brow, threatning a sudden fall
To all those Thoughts that are not lowly sent,
In wonder and amaze, dazling that Eye
Which on those Mysteries doth rudely gaze,
Vow'd only unto Love's Divinity:
Sure Adam sinn'd not in that spotless Face.
Tears, flow no more
TEARS, flow no more, or if you needs must flow,
Fall yet more slow,
Do not the world invade,
From smaller springs than yours rivers have grown,
And they again a Sea have made,
Brackish like you, and which like you hath flown.
Ebb to my heart, and on the burning fires
Of my desires,
O let your torrents fall,
From smaller heate than theirs such sparks arise
As into flame converting all,
This world might be but my love's sacrifice.
Yet if the tempests of my sighs so blow
You both must flow,
And my desires still burn,
Since that in vain all help my love requires,
Why may not yet their rages turn
To dry those tears, and to blow out those fires ?
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Elegy over a Tomb
Must I then see, alas, eternal night
Sitting upon those fairest eyes,
And closing all those beams, which once did rise
So radiant and bright
That light and heat in them to us did prove
Knowledge and love?
Oh, if you did delight no more to stay
Upon this low and earthly stage,
But rather chose an endless heritage,
Tell us at least, we pray,
Where all the beauties that those ashes ow'd
Are now bestow'd.
Doth the sun now his light with yours renew?
Have waves the curling of your hair?
Did you restore unto the sky and air
The red, and white, and blue?
Have you vouchsaf'd to flowers since your death
That sweetest breath?
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