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"ALL for the robin-red-breast and the wren,
Since o'er shady groves they hover, And with leaves and flowers do cover The friendless bodies of unburied men. Call unto his funeral dole The ant, the field-mouse, and the mole, To rear him hillocks that shall keep him warm, And, when gay tombs are robbed, sustain no harm ; But keep the wolf far thence, that's foe to men, For with his nails he'll dig them up again. Let holy church receive him duly, Since he paid the church tithes truly.
END home my long-strayed eyes to me,
Which, oh! too long have dwelt on thee ;
Such forced fashions
That they be
Made by thee
Send home my harmless heart again,
To make jestings
And break both
Word and oath,
Yet send me back my heart and eyes,
And may laugh and joy when thou
Art in anguish,
For some one
That will none,
VALEDICTION, FORBIDDING MOURNING.
S virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go;
Now his breath goes, and some say, no;
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods nor sigh-tempests move ; 'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of the earth brings harms and fears,
Men reckon what it did, and meant ;
Though greater far, are innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love,
Whose soul is sense, cannot admit Absence ; for that it doth remove
Those things which elemented it.
But we, by a love so far refined,
That ourselves know not what it is, Inter-assured of the mind,
Careless, eyes, lips, and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to airy thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth if the other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like the other foot, obliquely run ; Thy firmness makes my circles just,
And makes me end where I begun.
A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER.
JILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before ?
And do run still, though still I do deplore ?
For I have more.
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sins their door?
A year or two, but wallowed in, a score ?
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ;
Shall shine, as He shines now and heretofore:
I fear no more.