Poetry Archives

Send home my long stray’d eyes to me,
Which O too long have dwelt on thee,
Yet since there they have learn’d such ill,
     Such forc’d fashions,
     And false passions,
          That they be
          Made by thee
Fit for no good sight, keep them still.

Send home my worthless heart again,
Which no unworthy thought could stain,
Which if’t be taught by thine
     To make jestings
     Of protestings,
          And cross both
          Word and oath,
Keep it, for then ’tis none of mine.

Yet send me back my heart and eyes,
That I may know, and see thy lies,
And may laugh and joy, when thou
     Art in anguish
     And dost languish
          For some one
          That will non,
Or prove as false as thou art now.