By
John Donne.
But if My days be long, and good enough,
In vaine this sea shall enlarge, or enrough
It self; for I will through the wave, and fome,
And shall in sad lone wayes a lively spright,
Make my darke heavy poëm light, and light.
For though through many streights, and lands I roame,
I launch at paradise, and I saile towards home;
The course I there began, shall here be staid,
Sailes hoised there, stroke here, and anchors laid
In Thames, which were at Tigrys, and Euphrates waide.
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