Proud of my broken heart since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
-
-
He is stark mad, whoever says,
That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
But that it can ten in less space devour;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
...Not with a Club, the Heart is broken
Nor with a Stone —
A Whip so small you could not see it
I've known
To lash the Magic Creature
Till it fell,
Yet that Whip's Name
Too noble then to tell.
Magnanimous as Bird
By Boy descried —
Singing unto the...Proud of my broken heart, since thou didst break it,
Proud of the pain I did not feel till thee,
Proud of my night, since thou with moons dost slake it,
Not to partake thy passion, my humility.
Thou can'st not boast, like Jesus, drunken without companion
Was the strong cup of anguish brewed for the...Unto a broken heart
No other one may go
Without the high prerogative
Itself hath suffered too.