So would a soul, if that it did but know (Being form'd in Heaven) how that it was to go To a dark womb on earth from heavenly bliss, Regret, as I do at our parting kiss; For when I part from thee, though the delight Of the kiss is a sunbeam before night, Yet I much better should endure the pain, Were I but sure that we should kiss again. But being uncertain, like a soul in fear, Whether it shall return to the same sphere, Or star, or house celestial, whence it came: My Cynthia, Beauty's queen, thou canst not blame My fear, nor my credulity in this, If I considering of our parting kiss, Shall straight affirm that on thy lip doth dwell At once a heavenly pleasure, and a hell; For in our kiss is bliss without dimension, And in our parting grief, beyond extension: O do me then the favour done to those Die on the block, to whom the headsman shows Nor sword, nor axe, nor doth the traitor know When he will strike, until he feel the blow: Use me then so, let's kiss so oft, so fast, I may not know, which kiss shall be my last. |