The Departure

Have faculty by nature to subsist;

And bids her eyes hereafter still be blind.

And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;

She bears the load of lust he left behind,

Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,

And he the burden of a guilty mind.

And in his will his wilful eye he tired.

To work my mind, when body's work's expired:

 

And ruin'd love, when it is built anew,

Is but to surfeit, and such griefs sustain,

Till, breathless, he disjoin'd, and backward drew

All men are bad, and in their badness reign.

Upon the moment did her force subdue,

Thy gift, thy tables, are within my brain

To blot old books and alter their contents,

Subject and servile to all discontents,

 

To whose weak ruins muster troops of cares,

Loving offenders, thus I will excuse ye:

And sweetens, in the suffering pangs it bears,

But if thou live, remember'd not to be,

Till he take truce with her contending tears,

But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free,

Which parts the shore, where two contracted new

Of present death, and shame that might ensue

 

A pretty while these pretty creatures stand,

By this short schedule Collatine may know

To kiss the tender inward of thy hand,

Yet so they mourn, becoming of their woe,

Or ivory in an alabaster band;

In clamours of all size, both high and low.

At Time, at Tarquin, and uncheerful Night;

With some mischance cross Tarquin in his flight:

 

Receives the scroll without or yea or no,

But torment that it cannot cure his pain.

To sound a parley to his heartless foe;

That they prove bankrupt in this poor-rich gain.

Which vulgar scandal stamp'd upon my brow;

Kill me outright with looks and rid my pain.

In a pure compound; being so applied,

That I may not be so, nor thou belied,

 

Mud not the fountain that gave drink to thee;

Saw how deceits were gilded in his smiling;

As oft 'twixt May and April is to see,

Knew vows were ever brokers to defiling;

Kept hearts in liveries, but mine own was free,

And knew the patterns of his foul beguiling;

Full of respects, yet nought at all respecting;

Swell in their pride, the onset still expecting

This poem is about: 
Me

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