Meditation XVII, 1624
#English 1624 Meditation XVII
This is my play’s last scene; here… My pilgrimage’s last mile; and my… Idly, yet quickly run, hath this l… My span’s last inch, my minute’s l… And gluttonous death will instantl…
Oh, to vex me, contraries meet in… Inconstancy unnaturally hath begot A constant habit; that when I wou… I change in vows, and in devotion. As humorous is my contrition
O might those sighs and tears retu… Into my breast and eyes, which I… That I might in this holy discont… Mourn with some fruit, as I have… In mine Idolatry what showers of…
Father, part of his double interes… Unto thy kingdom, thy Son gives t… His jointure in the knotty Trinit… He keeps, and gives to me his deat… This Lamb, whose death with life…
I wonder, by my troth, what thou a… Did, till we loved? Were we not w… But sucked on country pleasures, c… Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepe… ’Twas so; but this, all pleasures…
Batter my heart, three—person’d G… As yet but knock, breathe, shine,… That I may rise and stand, o’erth… Your force to break, blow, burn, a… I, like an usurp’d town to another…
Go and catch a falling star, Get with child a mandrake root, Tell me where all past years are, Or who cleft the devil’s foot, Teach me to hear mermaids singing,
Since she whom I lov’d hath paid… To nature, and to hers, and my goo… And her soul early into heaven rav… Wholly in heavenly things my mind… Here the admiring her my mind did…
I am a little world made cunningly Of elements and an angelic sprite, But black sin hath betray’d to end… My world’s both parts, and oh both… You which beyond that heaven which…
Thou hast made me, and shall thy w… Repair me now, for now mine end do… I run to death, and death meets me… And all my pleasures are like yest… I dare not move my dim eyes any wa…
WILT thou forgive that sinn, whe… Which is my sinn, though it were d… Wilt thou forgive those sinns thro… And doe run still, though still I… When thou has done, thou hast not…
Show me dear Christ, thy spouse s… What! is it she which on the other… Goes richly painted? or which, rob… Laments and mourns in Germany and… Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps…
So, so breake off this last lament… Which sucks two soules, and vapour… Turne thou ghost that way, and let… And let our selves benight our hap… We ask’d none leave to love; nor w…
Death, be not proud, though some h… Mighty and dreadful, for thou art… For those whom thou think’st thou… Die not, poor Death, nor yet cans… From rest and sleep, which but thy…
When my grave is broke up again Some second guest to entertain, (For graves have learn’d that woma… To be to more than one a bed) And he that digs it, spies