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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
TO THOMALIN, by PHINEAS FLETCHER Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Thomalin, since thirsil nothing ha's to leave thee Last Line: That given, nothing now remaineth more. | |||
Thomalin, since Thirsil nothing ha's to leave thee, And leave thee must; pardon me (gentle friend) If nothing but my love I onely give thee; Yet see how great this Nothing is, I send: For though this love of thine I sweetest prove, Nothing's more sweet then is this sweetest love. The souldier Nothing like his prey esteems; Nothing toss'd sailers equal with the shore: Nothing before his health the sick man deems; The pilgrim hugges his countrey; Nothing more: The miser hoording up his golden wares, This Nothing with his precious wealth compares. Our thoughts ambition onely Nothing ends; Nothing fills up the golden-dropsied minde: The prodigall, that all so lavish spends, Yet Nothing cannot; Nothing stayes behinde: The King, that with his life a kingdome buyes, Then life or crown doth Nothing higher prize. Who all enjoyes, yet Nothing now desires; Nothing is greater then the highest Jove: Who dwells in heav'n, (then) Nothing more requires; Love, more then honey; Nothing more sweet then love: Nothing is onely better then the best; Nothing is sure: Nothing is ever blest. I love my health, my life, my books, my friends, Thee; (dearest Thomalin) Nothing above thee: For when my books, friends, health, life, fainting ends, When thy love fails, yet Nothing still will love me: When heav'n, and aire, the earth, and floating mains Are gone, yet Nothing still untoucht remains. Since then to other streams I must betake me, And spitefull Chame of all ha's quite bereft me; Since Muses selves (false Muses) will forsake me, And but this Nothing, nothing els is left me; Take thou my love, and keep it still in store: That given, Nothing now remaineth more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A REPLY UPON THE FAIR M.S. by PHINEAS FLETCHER ELISA, OR AN ELEGY UPON THE UNRIPE DECEASE OF SIR ANTHONY IRBY, SELECTION by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE LOCUSTS, OR APOLLYONISTS: CANTO 1 by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE LOCUSTS, OR APOLLYONISTS: CANTO 2 by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE LOCUSTS, OR APOLLYONISTS: CANTO 3 by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE LOCUSTS, OR APOLLYONISTS: CANTO 4 by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE LOCUSTS, OR APOLLYONISTS: CANTO 5 by PHINEAS FLETCHER THE PURPLE ISLAND, SELECTION by PHINEAS FLETCHER TO MY BELOVED COUSIN W. R. ESQUIRE by PHINEAS FLETCHER TO MY SOUL IN ITS BLINDNESS by PHINEAS FLETCHER |
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