Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FRIENDSHIP IN ABSENCE, by ABRAHAM COWLEY


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FRIENDSHIP IN ABSENCE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: When chance or cruel business parts us two
Last Line: It sits and sings, and so orecomes its rage.
Subject(s): Absence; Friendship; Separation; Isolation


1.

WHEN chance or cruel Business parts us two,
What do our Souls I wonder do?
Whilst sleep does our dull Bodies tie,
Methinks, at home they should not stay,
Content with Dreams, but boldly file
Abroad, and meet each other half the way.

2.

Sure they do meet, enjoy each other there,
And mix I know not How, or Where.
There friendly Lights together twine,
Though we perceive 't not to be so,
Like loving Stars which oft combine,
Yet not themselves their own Conjunctions know.

3.

'Twere an ill World, I'll swear, for ev'ry friend,
If Distance could their Union end:
But Love it self does far advance
Above the Pow'r of Time and Space;
It scorns such outward Circumstance,
His Time's for ever, ev'ry where his Place.

4.

I am there with Thee, yet here with Me Thou art,
Lodg'd in each other's Heart.
Miracles cease not yet in Love;
When he his mighty Power will try,
Absence it self does Bounteous prove,
And strangely even our Presence Multiply.

5.

Pure is the flame of Friendship, and divine
Like that which in Heaven's Sun does shine;
Like he in th' upper ayr and sky
Does no effects of Heat bestow,
But as his Beams the farther fly
He begets Warmth, Life, Beauty here below.

6.

Friendship is less apparent when too nigh,
Like Objects, if they touch the Eye.
Less Meritorious then is Love,
For when we Friends together see
So much, so much Both One do prove,
That their Love then seems but Self-Love to be.

7.

Each Day think on me, and each Day I shall
For thee make Hours Canonical.
By ev'ry Wind that comes this way,
Send me at least a sigh or two;
Such and so many I'll repay,
As shall themselves make Winds to get to you.

8.

A thousand pretty ways we'll think upon
To mock our Separation.
Alas, ten thousand will not do;
My Heart will thus no longer stay,
No longer 'twill be kept from you,
But knocks against the Breast to get away.

9.

And when no Art affords me help or ease,
I seek with verse my griefs t' appease.
Just as a Bird that flies about
And beats it self against the Cage,
Finding at last no passage out,
It sits and sings, and so orecomes its rage.





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