The Will

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⁠BEFORE I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe,
⁠Great Love, some legacies; I here bequeath
⁠Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see;
⁠If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee;
⁠My tongue to Fame; to ambassadors mine ears;
⁠To women, or the sea, my tears;
⁠Thou, Love, hast taught me heretofore
⁠By making me serve her who had twenty more,
That I should give to none, but such as had too much before.

⁠My constancy I to the planets give;
⁠My truth to them who at the court do live;
⁠My ingenuity and openness,
⁠To Jesuits; to buffoons my pensiveness;
⁠My silence to any, who abroad hath been;
⁠My money to a Capuchin:
⁠Thou, Love, taught'st me, by appointing me
⁠To love there, where no love received can be,
Only to give to such as have an incapacity.

⁠My faith I give to Roman Catholics;
⁠All my good works unto the Schismatics
⁠Of Amsterdam; my best civility
⁠And courtship to an University;
⁠My modesty I give to soldiers bare;
⁠My patience let gamesters share:
⁠Thou, Love, taught'st me, by making me
⁠Love her that holds my love disparity,
Only to give to those that count my gifts indignity.

⁠I give my reputation to those
⁠Which were my friends; mine industry to foes;
⁠To schoolmen I bequeath my doubtfulness;
⁠My sickness to physicians, or excess;
⁠To nature all that I in rhyme have writ;
⁠And to my company my wit:
⁠Thou, Love, by making me adore
⁠Her, who begot this love in me before,
Taught'st me to make, as though I gave, when I do but restore.

⁠To him for whom the passing-bell next tolls,
⁠I give my physic books; my written rolls
⁠Of moral counsels I to Bedlam give;
⁠My brazen medals unto them which live
⁠In want of bread; to them which pass among
⁠All foreigners, mine English tongue:
⁠Though, Love, by making me love one
⁠Who thinks her friendship a fit portion
For younger lovers, dost my gifts thus disproportion.

⁠Therefore I'll give no more, but I'll undo
⁠The world by dying, because love dies too.
⁠Then all your beauties will be no more worth
⁠Than gold in mines, where none doth draw it forth;
⁠And all your graces no more use shall have,
⁠Than a sun-dial in a grave:
⁠Thou, Love, taught'st me by making me
⁠Love her who doth neglect both me and thee,
To invent, and practise this one way, to annihilate all three.

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