 | Poems |  |
38
SONG.
Eternitie of love protested.
How
ill doth he deserve a lovers name,
Whose pale weake flame,
Cannot retaine
His heate in spight of absence or disdaine;
But doth at once, like paper set on fire,
Burne, and expire?
True love can never change his seat,
Nor did he ever love, that could retreat.
Whose pale weake flame,
Cannot retaine
His heate in spight of absence or disdaine;
But doth at once, like paper set on fire,
Burne, and expire?
True love can never change his seat,
Nor did he ever love, that could retreat.
That noble flame, which my brest keeps alive,
shall still survive,
When my soule's fled;
Nor shall my love dye, when my bodye's dead,
That shall waite on me to the lower shade,
And never sade,
My very ashes in their urne,
Shall like a hallowed Lamp, for ever burne.
shall still survive,
When my soule's fled;
Nor shall my love dye, when my bodye's dead,
That shall waite on me to the lower shade,
And never sade,
My very ashes in their urne,
Shall like a hallowed Lamp, for ever burne.
| Poems | |