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Poem by John Donne


The Expiration


So, so, break off this last lamenting kiss,
Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away,
Turn thou ghost that way, and let me turn this,
And let our selves benight our happiest day,
We ask none leave to love; nor will we owe
Any, so cheap a death, as saying, Go;
Go; and if that word have not quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with death, by bidding me go too.
Oh, if it have, let my word work on me,
And a just office on a murderer do.
Except it be too late, to kill me so,
Being double dead, going, and bidding, go. 



John Donne


John Donne's other poems:
  1. Holy Sonnet 8. If faithful souls be alike glorified
  2. Holy Sonnet 12. Why are we by all creatures waited on?
  3. Holy Sonnet 5. I am a little world made cunningly
  4. Holy Sonnet 9. If poisonous minerals, and if that tree
  5. Holy Sonnet 13. What if this present were the world's last night?


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