The Dissolution

John Donne

1572 to 1631

Poem Image
Track 1

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Now as those Active Kings
And nourish not, but smother.
Whose foraine conquest treasure brings,
And so my soule more earnestly releas'd,
In me abundant grow, and burdenous,
My body then doth hers involve,
Receive more, and spend more, and soonest breake:
Shee'is dead; And all which die
My fire of Passion, sighes of ayre,
But that my fire doth with my fuell grow.
And wee were mutuall Elements to us,
Will outstrip hers; As bullets flowen before
Water of teares, and earthly sad despaire,
This (which I am amaz'd that I can speake)
To their first Elements resolve;
And I might live long wretched so
And made of one another.
Which my materialls bee,
This death, hath with my store
But neere worne out by loves securitie,
A latter bullet may o'rtake, the pouder being more.
And those things whereof I consist, hereby
Shee, to my losse, doth by her death repaire,
My use encreas'd.

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