The Canonization

For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love, Or chide my palsy, or my gout, My five grey hairs, or ruin’d fortune do Some blame, and all my good, my love of you.

Alas, you know your, when you’ve given me none, I am resolved at last to be alone. Hold, my love, for I am your perfect dream. But I should live, if dreams consumed it stream, If time, or the time spins some tight circles of pleas, Alas, I burn, let they snake loose, and let me be free!

I cannot fight you, at least I see, To know the beauty of a grave and slow, Even the air, too warm and full of dew — Let those that slice it be forever consigned eternally to wo.

So let not time quench the heat, nay love, But let me die still breathing, verdant yet, Our lingering love can reap true rapture’s fruit, Our soul entwined intimate, and yet to conclude!

• John Donne