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Elegy. 14 |
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Since shee must goe, and I must mourne, come night [137] |
Environ mee with darknesse while I write |
Shadow that Hell vnto mee w.ch alone |
I am to suffer when my Loue is gon. |
Alas the darkest Magick cannot doe it |
Thou and greate Hell to boote ar shadows to it |
Should Cinthia guitt thee, Venus, and each starr |
It would not forme one thought darke as mine are |
I could lend them obscurenesse now, and say |
Out of my selfe there should bee no more day |
Such is already my felt want of sight |
Did not the fires within mee force a light. |
Ô Loue, that fire and darknesse should bee mixt |
Or to thy triumphs so strange torments fixt. |
I'st because thou thy selfe art blind, that wee |
Thy Martyrs must no more each other see? |
Or tak'st thou pride to breake vs on the wheele |
And view old Chaos in the payne wee feele? |
Or haue wee left vndon some mutuall right |
Through holy feare that merits thy despight? |
No, no, The fault was mine, impute it mee |
Or rather to conspiring destiny |
Which, since I lou'd for forme before, decreed |
That I should suffer when I lou'd indeed. |
And therefore now, sooner then I can say |
I saw the gold fruite, it is rapd away |
Or as I had watch't one drop in a vast streame |
And I left wealthy onely in a dreame.
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[CW: Yet___] |