Verse > Anthologies > T. H. Ward, ed. > The English Poets > Vol. II. Ben Jonson to Dryden
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Thomas Humphry Ward, ed.  The English Poets.  1880–1918.
Vol. II. The Seventeenth Century: Ben Jonson to Dryden
 
The Tomb
By Thomas Stanley (1625–1678)
 
    WHEN, cruel fair one, I am slain
                By thy disdain,
    And, as a trophy of thy scorn,
        To some old tomb am borne,
    Thy fetters must their power bequeath        5
                To those of Death;
    Nor can thy flame immortal burn,
Like monumental fires within an urn;
Thus freed from thy proud empire, I shall prove
There is more liberty in Death than Love.        10
 
    And when forsaken lovers come
                To see my tomb,
    Take heed thou mix not with the crowd
        And, as a victor, proud
    To view the spoils thy beauty made        15
                Press near my shade,
    Lest thy too cruel breath or name
Should fan my ashes back into a flame,
And thou, devoured by this revengeful fire,
His sacrifice, who died as thine, expire.        20
 
    But if cold earth or marble must
                Conceal my dust,
    Whilst hid in some dark ruins, I
        Dumb and forgotten lie,
    The pride of all thy victory        25
                Will sleep with me;
    And they who should attest thy glory,
Will, or forget, or not believe this story.
Then to increase thy triumph, let me rest,
Since by thine eye slain, buried in thy breast.        30
 
 
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