John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896.
Letters to Several PersonagesIncerto
A
I to my soft still walks, they to my heart,
I to the nurse, they to the child of art.
Perish, doth stand; as an ambassador
Lies safe, howe’er his king be in danger;
My verse, the strict map of my misery,
Shall live to see that, for whose want I die.
That from unhappy me, things happy are sent.
Yet as a picture, or bare sacrament,
Accept these lines, and if in them there be
Merit of love, bestow that love on me.