《The Will》约翰·但恩诗赏析

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The Will

Before I sigh my last gaspe, let me breath,

Great love, some Legacies; Here I bequeath

Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see,

If they be blinde, then Love, I give them thee;

My tongue to Fame; to'Embassadours mine eares; 

To women or the sea, my teares.

Thou, Love, hast taught mee heretofore

By making mee serve her who'had twenty more,

That I should give to none, but such, as had too much before.

 

 

My constancie I to the planets give; 

My truth to them, who at the Court doe live;

Mine ingenuity and opennesse,

To Jesuites; to Buffones my pensivenesse;

My silence to'any, who abroad hath beene;

My mony to a Capuchin. 

Thou Love taught'st me, by appointing mee

To love there, where no love receiv'd can be,

Onely to give to such as have an incapacitie.

 

 

My faith I give to Roman Catholiques;

All my good works unto the Schismaticks 

Of Amsterdam; my best civility

And Courtship, to an Universitie;

My modesty I give to souldiers bare;

My patience let gamesters share.

Thou Love taughtst mee, by making mee 

Love her that holds my love disparity,

Onely to give to those that count my gifts indignity.

 

 

I give my reputation to those

Which were my friends; Mine industrie to foes;

To Schoolemen I bequeath my doubtfulnesse; 

My sicknesse to Physitians, or excesse;

To Nature, all that I in Ryme have writ;

And to my company my wit;

Thou Love, by making mee adore

Her, who begot this love in mee before, 

Taughtst me to make, as though I gave, when I did but restore.

 

 

To him for whom the passing bell next tolls,

I give my physick bookes; my writen rowles

Of Morall counsels, I to Bedlam give;

My brazen medals, unto them which live 

In want of bread; To them which passe among

All forrainers, mine English tongue.

Thou, Love, by making mee love one

Who thinkes her friendship a fit portion

For yonger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion. 

 

 

Therefore I'll give no more; But I'll undoe

The world by dying; because love dies too.

Then all your beauties will bee no more worth

Then gold in Mines, where none doth draw it forth;

And all your graces no more use shall have 

Then a Sun dyall in a grave.

Thou Love taughtst mee, by making mee

Love her, who doth neglect both mee and thee,

To'invent, and practise this one way, to'annihilate all three.

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