 | Poems, By J. D. [i.e. John Donne] |  |
186
[[The Message.]]
Send home my long strayd eyes to mee,
Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee,
Yet since there they have learn'd such ill,
Such forc'd fashions,
And false passions,
That they be
Made by thee
Fit for no good sight, keep them still.
Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee,
Yet since there they have learn'd such ill,
Such forc'd fashions,
And false passions,
That they be
Made by thee
Fit for no good sight, keep them still.
Send home my harmlesse heart againe,
Which no unworthy thought could staine,
Which if it be taught by thine
To make jestings
Of protestings,
And breake both
Word and oath,
Keepe it, for then 'tis none of mine.
Which no unworthy thought could staine,
Which if it be taught by thine
To make jestings
Of protestings,
And breake both
Word and oath,
Keepe it, for then 'tis none of mine.
Yet send me back my heart and eyes,
That I may know, and see thy lyes,
And may laugh and joy, when thou
Art in anguish
And dost languish
For some one
That will none,
Or prove as false as thou art now.
That I may know, and see thy lyes,
And may laugh and joy, when thou
Art in anguish
And dost languish
For some one
That will none,
Or prove as false as thou art now.
| Poems, By J. D. [i.e. John Donne] | |