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Poems, By J. D. [i.e. John Donne]

With Elegies on the Authors Death
  

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[[The Undertaking.]]
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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[[The Undertaking.]]

I have done one braver thing
Then all the worthies did,
And yet a braver thence doth spring,
Which is, to keepe that hid.
It were but madnes now t'impart
The skill of specular stone,
When he which can have learn'd the art,
To cut it can finde none.
So, if I now should utter this,
Others (because no more
Such stuffe to worke upon, there is,)
Would love but as before.
But he who lovelinesse within
Hath found, all outward loathes,
For he who colour loves, and skinne,
Loves but their oldest clothes.
If, as I have, you also doe
Vertue' attir'd in woman see,
And dare love that, and say so too,
And forget the Hee and Shee;
And if this love, though placed so,
From prophane men you hide,
Which will no faith on this bestow,
Or, if they doe, deride:

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Then you have done a braver thing
Then all the Worthies did.
And a braver thence will spring
Which is, to keepe that hid.