|
|
| If the dull substance of my flesh were thought, | 1 |
|
|
| Injurious distance should not stop my way; |
|
|
| For then despite of space I would be brought, |
|
|
| From limits far remote, where thou dost stay. |
|
|
| No matter then although my foot did stand | 5 |
|
|
| Upon the farthest earth remov'd from thee; |
|
|
| For nimble thought can jump both sea and land, |
|
|
| As soon as think the place where he would be. |
|
|
| But, ah! thought kills me that I am not thought, |
|
|
| To leap large lengths of miles when thou art gone, | 10 |
|
|
| But that so much of earth and water wrought, |
|
|
| I must attend, time's leisure with my moan; |
|
|
 Receiving nought by elements so slow |
|
|
| But heavy tears, badges of either's woe. |
|
|
