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Though then in our times bee not suffered [181] |
That Testimony of loue vnto the dead |
To dye with them, and in theyr Graues bee hidd |
As Saxon wiues, and ffrench soldury did. |
And though in no degree I can expresse |
Greefe in Great Alexanders greate Excesse |
Who at his frinds death made whole Townes devest |
Theyr walls and Bulwarkes that became them best |
Doe not, fayre soule, this sacrifice refuse |
That in thy Graue I do interre my Muse |
Wch by my greefe, greate as thy worth, beeing cast |
Behind hand; yet hath spoke, and spoke her last |
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To S.r Robert Carr. |
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Sr. I prsume you rather trye what you can doe in mee |
then what I can doe in verse. you knewe my vttermost |
when it was at best. And even then I did best when I |
had least Truth for my subiect. In this prsent case there is so much Truth as it defeates all Poetry. |
Call therefore this Paper by what name you will, |
and if it bee not worthy of him, nor of you, nor of mee, smother it, and bee that the Sacrifice. |
If you had com̄aunded mee to haue wayted vpon his |
body to Scotland, and preached there, I should haue |
embraced the Obligac̄on with more Alacrity. |
But I thanke you that you would com̄aund that |
w.ch I was loth to doe. ffor even that hath giuen |
a Tincture of merit to the obedience of. |
Yor poore frind and srvant |
Io: Donne
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[CW: Whethr__] |