A Fever
John Donne
Oh do not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember, thou wast one.
But yet thou canst not die, I know,
To leave this world behind, is death,
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapors with thy breath.
Or if, when thou, the world’s soul, goest,
It stay, ’tis but thy carcass then,
The fairest woman, but thy ghost,
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men.
O wrangling schools, that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire,
That this her fever might be it?
And yet she cannot waste by this,
Nor long bear this torturing wrong,
For much corruption needful is
To fuel such a fever long.
These burning fits but meteors be,
Whose matter in thee is soon spent.
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,
Are unchangeable firmament.
Yet ’twas of my mind, seizing thee,
Though it in thee cannot persever.
For I had rather owner be,
Of thee one hour, than all else ever.
Next 10 Poems
- John Donne : A Hymn To Christ At The Author's Last Going Into Germany
- John Donne : A Hymn To God The Father
- John Donne : A Lame Beggar
- John Donne : A Lecture Upon The Shadow
- John Donne : A Nocturnal Upon St. Lucy's Day, Being The Shortest Day
- John Donne : A Nocturnall Upon St. Lucies Day
- John Donne : A Valediction Of Weeping
- John Donne : A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning
- John Donne : Air And Angels
- John Donne : Aire And Angles
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- Emily Dickinson : You're Right-'the Way Is Narrow'
- Emily Dickinson : Your Thoughts Don't Have Words Every Day
- Emily Dickinson : Your Riches-taught Me-poverty
- Emily Dickinson : You'll Know It-as You Know 'tis Noon
- Emily Dickinson : You'll Know Her-by Her Foot
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- Emily Dickinson : You Taught Me Waiting With Myself
- Emily Dickinson : You See I Cannot See-your Lifetime
- Emily Dickinson : You Said That I 'was Great'-one Day
