How ill doth he deserve a lovers name,
Whose pale weak flame
Cannot retain
His heat, in spite of absence or disdain;
But doth at once, like paper set on fire,
Burn and expire;
True love can never change his seat,
Nor did her ever love, that could retreat.
That noble flame which my breast keeps alive
Shall still survive
When my souls fled;
Nor shall my love die when my bodys dead,
That shall wait on me to the lower shade,
And never fade;
My very ashes in their urn
Shall, like a hallowd lamp, forever burn.
Eternity Of Love Protested
Thomas Carew
Suggested Poems
Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.