The Message by John Donne
Send home my long stray'd eyes to me, Which O too long have dwelt on thee, Yet since there they have learn'd such ill, Such forc'd fashions, And false passions, That they be Made by thee Fit for no good sight, keep them still.
Send home my worthless heart again, Which no unworthy thought could stain, Which if't be taught by thine To make jestings Of protestings, And cross both Word and oath, Keep it, for then 'tis none of mine.
Yet send me back my heart and eyes, That I may know, and see thy lies, And may laugh and joy, when thou Art in anguish And dost languish For some one That will non, Or prove as false as thou art now.
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