Deare, though to part it be a Hell, Yet Dianeme now farewell: Thy frown (last night) did bid me goe; But whither, onely Grief do's know. I doe beseech thee, ere we part, (If mercifull, as faire thou art; Or else desir'st that Maids sho'd tell Thy pitty by Loves-Chronicle) O Dianeme, rather kill Me, then to make me languish stil! 'Tis cruelty in thee to'th'height, Thus, thus to wound, not kill out-right: Yet there's a way found (if thou please) By sudden death to give me ease: And thus devis'd, doe thou but this, Bequeath to me one parting kisse: So sup'rabundant joy shall be The Executioner of me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOST ILLUSIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AN ODE TO HIMSELF by BEN JONSON THE ALLEY. AN IMITATION OF SPENSER by ALEXANDER POPE SONNET: 36 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 47 by ALFRED TENNYSON |