The Expiration
So, so, break off this last lamenting
kiss,
Which sucks two souls, and vapours both
away,
Turn thou ghost that way, and let me
turn this,
And let ourselves benight our happiest
day,
We asked none leave to love; nor will
we owe
Any, so cheap a death, as saying, Go;
Go; and if that word have not quite
killed thee,
Ease me with death, by bidding me go
too.
Oh, if it have, let my word work on me,
And a just office on a murderer do.
Except it be too late, to kill me so,
Being double dead, going, and bidding,
go.
John Donne |