To His Dying Brother, Master William Herrick
Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight,But stay the time till we have bade good-night.Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy wayAs soon dispatch'd is by the night as day.Let us not then so rudely henceforth goTill we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so.There's pain in parting, and a kind of hellWhen once true lovers take their last farewell.What? shall we two our endless leaves take hereWithout a sad look, or a solemn tear?He knows not love that hath not this truth proved,Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved.Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part,Then, even then, I will bequeath my heartInto thy loving hands; for I'll keep noneTo warm my breast, when thou, my pulse, art gone,No, here I'll last, and walk, a harmless shade,About this urn, wherein thy dust is laid,To guard it so, as nothing here shall beHeavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee.
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