Nor wonder, if my time go thus Backward and most preposterous; Thou hast benighted me; thy set This eve of blackness did beget, Who wast my day (though overcast, Before thou hadst thy noon-tide past), And I remember must in tears, Thou scarce hadst seen so many years As day tells hours. By thy clear Sun, My love and fortune first did run; 30 But thou wilt never more appear Folded within my hemisphere, Since both thy light and motion Like a fled star is fall'n and gone, And 'twixt me and my soul's dear wish The earth now interposed is, Which such a strange eclipse doth make, As ne'er was read in almanac. I could allow thee, for a time, To darken me and my sad clime, 40 Were it a month, a year, or ten, I would thy exile live till then; And all that space my mirth adjourn, So thou wouldst promise to return; And putting off thy ashy shroud, At length disperse this sorrow's cloud. But woe is me! the longest date Too narrow is to calculate These empty hopes: never shall I Be so much blest as to descry 50 A glimpse of thee, till that day come, Which shall the earth to cinders doom, And a fierce fever must calcine The body of this world, like thine, My Little World! That fit of fire Once off, our bodies shall aspire To our souls' bliss: then we shall rise, And view ourselves with clearer eyes In that calm region, where no night Can hide us from each other's sight. 60 Meantime, thou hast her, Earth; much good May my harm do thee. Since it stood With Heaven's will, I might not call Her longer mine, I give thee all My short-liv'd right and interest In her, whom living I lov'd best: With a most free and bounteous grief, I give thee, what I could not keep. Be kind to her, and prithee look Thou write into thy Dooms-day book 70 Each parcel of this rarity, Which in thy casket shrin'd doth lie: See that thou make thy reck'ning straight, And yield her back again by weight; For thou must audit on thy trust Each grain and atom of this dust, As thou wilt answer _Him_ that lent, Not gave thee, my dear monument. So close the ground, and 'bout her shade Black curtains draw;--my Bride is laid. 80