Robert Herrick

The Cruel Maid

     —AND, cruel maid, because I see
     You scornful of my love, and me,
     I'll trouble you no more, but go
     My way, where you shall never know
     What is become of me; there I
     Will find me out a path to die,
     Or learn some way how to forget
     You and your name for ever;—yet
     Ere I go hence, know this from me,
     What will in time your fortune be;
     This to your coyness I will tell;
     And having spoke it once, Farewell.
     —The lily will not long endure,
     Nor the snow continue pure;
     The rose, the violet, one day
     See both these lady-flowers decay;
     And you must fade as well as they.
     And it may chance that love may turn,
     And, like to mine, make your heart burn
     And weep to see't; yet this thing do,
     That my last vow commends to you;
     When you shall see that I am dead,
     For pity let a tear be shed;
     And, with your mantle o'er me cast,
     Give my cold lips a kiss at last;
     If twice you kiss, you need not fear
     That I shall stir or live more here.
     Next hollow out a tomb to cover
     Me, me, the most despised lover;
     And write thereon, THIS, READER, KNOW;
     LOVE KILL'D THIS MAN.  No more, but so.