- 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.
From: Songs and Sonnets, 1633.
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