Classic Poem

VALEDICTORY

I

I GOE : but never to returne:
With such a killinge Flame I burne,
Not all th' enraged waves that beate
My shipps calk't ribbes, can quench that heate:
Nor thy disdains, which colder are
Than climats of the Northerne Star,
Can freez the blood, warmd by thine eye:
But Sweete, I must thy Martyr dye.

II

Oh! canst thou know, that losing thee,
The universe is dead to mee,
And I to it, yet not become
Soe kind, as to revoke my doom?
Gentle Heart, do; if I remove,
How can I hope t' acheive thy Love?
If not, I shall 't a blessing call,
That shee, who wounds may see my Fall.

III

Or say thou Lov'st, and bid mee go
Where never sun his face did show:
Or to, what's worse, want of thy Light,
Which dissipates the shades of Night;
To dangers Death, Hell dare not own,
Scarsely to Apprehension knowne,
Arm'd with thy will (despite of Feare)
Ile seeke them, as if thou wert there.

IV

But, if thou wilt I dye, and that
By, worse than thousand deaths, thy hate;
When I am dead, if thou but pay
My Tomb a Teare, and sighinge say,
Thou do'st my Timeless Fall deplore,
Wishing th' hadst knowne my trust before;
My dearest Dear, thou makest mee then,
Or Sleepe in peace, or Live againe.