Send me some token, that my hope may live, Or that my easelesse thoughts may sleep and rest; Send me some honey to make sweet my hive, That in my passion I may hope the best. I beg noe ribbond wrought with thine owne hands, To knit our loves in the fantastick straine Of new-toucht youth; nor Ring to shew the stands Of our affection, that as that's round and plaine, So should our loves meet in simplicity; No, nor the Coralls which thy wrist infold, Lac'd up together in congruity, To shew our thoughts should rest in the same hold; No, nor thy picture, though most gracious, And most desir'd, because best like the best; Nor witty Lines, which are most copious, Within the Writings which thou hast addrest. Send me nor this, nor that, t'increase my store, But swear thou thinkst I love thee, and no more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COMING DOWN TO THE DESERT AT LORDBURG, N.M. by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE BEING AS VISION by HAYDEN CARRUTH CONTRA MORTEM: THE NOTHING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH TO SEE THE STARS IN DAYLIGHT by JAMES GALVIN AFTERGLOW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |