The Will

by John Donne English

Before I sigh my last gasp, let me breathe, Great Love, some legacies: here I bequeathe Mine eyes to Argus, if mine eyes can see, If they be blind, then, Love, I give them thee; My tongue to Fame, to embassadors my 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; Mine ingenuity and openness To Jesuits; to buffoons my pensiveness; My silence to any who abroad have 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 shoulders 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 reputatiòn to those Which were my friends; mine industry to foes; To schoolmen I bequeathe 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.     Thou, Love, by making me love one   Who thinks her friendship a fit portiòn 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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