To His Dying Brother, Master William Herrick

Life of my life, take not so soon thy flight,     But stay the time till we have bade good-night.     Thou hast both wind and tide with thee; thy way     As soon dispatch'd is by the night as day.     Let us not then so rudely henceforth go     Till we have wept, kiss'd, sigh'd, shook hands, or so.     There's pain in parting, and a kind of hell     When once true lovers take their last farewell.     What? shall we two our endless leaves take here     Without a sad look, or a solemn tear?     He knows not love that hath not this truth proved,     Love is most loth to leave the thing beloved.     Pay we our vows and go; yet when we part,     Then, even then, I will bequeath my heart     Into thy loving hands; for I'll keep none     To warm my breast, when thou, my pulse, art gone,     No, here I'll last, and walk, a harmless shade,     About this urn, wherein thy dust is laid,     To guard it so, as nothing here shall be     Heavy, to hurt those sacred seeds of thee.