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1124. ON HIMSELF.
I'll write no more of love; but now repent
Of all those times that I in it have spent.
I'll write no more of life; but wish 'twas ended,
And that my dust was to the earth commended.
Of all those times that I in it have spent.
I'll write no more of life; but wish 'twas ended,
And that my dust was to the earth commended.
1125. TO HIS BOOK.
Go thou forth, my book, though late:
Yet be timely fortunate.
It may chance good luck may send
Thee a kinsman, or a friend,
That may harbour thee, when I
With my fates neglected lie.
If thou know'st not where to dwell,
See, the fire's by: farewell.
Yet be timely fortunate.
It may chance good luck may send
Thee a kinsman, or a friend,
That may harbour thee, when I
With my fates neglected lie.
If thou know'st not where to dwell,
See, the fire's by: farewell.
1126. THE END OF HIS WORK.
Part of the work remains; one part is past:
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.
And here my ship rides, having anchor cast.
1127. TO CROWN IT.
My wearied bark, O let it now be crown'd!
The haven reach'd to which I first was bound.
The haven reach'd to which I first was bound.
1128. ON HIMSELF.
The work is done: young men and maidens, set
Upon my curls the myrtle coronet
Upon my curls the myrtle coronet
