| John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896. | | | | Letters to Several Personages | | To the Countess of Bedford |
| | Begun in France, but never perfected
THOUGH I be dead and buried, yet I have | |
| —Living in you—court enough in my grave. | |
| As oft as there I think myself to be, | |
| So many resurrections waken me. | |
| That thankfulness, your favours have begot | 5 |
| In me, embalms me, that I do not rot. | |
| This season, as ’tis Easter, as ’tis spring, | |
| Must both to growth and to confession bring | |
| My thoughts, disposed unto your influence; so | |
| These verses bud, so these confessions grow. | 10 |
| First I confess I have to others lent | |
| Your stock, and over-prodigally spent | |
| Your treasure, for since I had never known | |
| Virtue or beauty, 1 but as they are grown | |
| In you, I should not think or say they shine, | 15 |
| —So as I have—in any other mine. | |
| Next I confess this my confession, | |
| For ’tis some fault this much to touch upon | |
| Your praise to you, where half rights seem too much, | |
| And make your mind’s sincere complexion blush. | 20 |
| Next I confess my impenitence, for I | |
| Can scarce repent my first fault, since thereby | |
| Remote low spirits, which shall ne’er read you, | |
| May in less lessons find enough to do, | |
| By studying copies, not originals. Desunt Cætera. | 25 |
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