A Jet Ring Sent

John Donne

1572 to 1631

Poem Image
A Jet Ring Sent - Track 1

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Thou art not so black as my heart,
Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art;
What would'st thou say? shall both our properties by thee be spoke,
—Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke?

Marriage rings are not of this stuff;
Oh, why should ought less precious, or less tough
Figure our loves? except in thy name thou have bid it say,
—I'm cheap, and nought but fashion; fling me away.

Yet stay with me since thou art come,
Circle this finger's top, which didst her thumb;
Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with me,
She that, O! broke her faith, would soon break thee.