When, Dearest, I But Think On Thee
Sir John Suckling, Last Remains. (1659). Wing 6130.
2Methinks all things that lovely be
3Are present, and my soul delighted:
4 For beauties that from worth arise
5 Are like the grace of deities,
6Still present with us, though unsighted.
7Thus while I sit and sigh the day
8With all his spreading lights away,
9Till night's black wings do overtake me:
10 Thinking on thee, thy beauties then,
11 As sudden lights do sleeping men,
12So they by their bright rays awake me.
13Thus absence dies, and dying proves
14No absence can consist with loves
15That do partake of fair perfection:
16 Since in the darkest night they may
17 By their quick motion find a way
18To see each other by reflection.
19The waving sea can with such flood
20Bathe some high palace that hath stood
21Far from the main up in the river:
22 Oh think not then but love can do
23 As much, for that's an ocean too,
24That flows not every day, but ever.
1] Reprinted in Lusoria (1661), with the note: "This ensuing Copy the late Printer hath been pleased to honour, by mistaking it among those of the most ingenious and too early lost, Sir John Suckling." Back to Line
Publication Start Year:
RPO poem Editors:
N. J. Endicott
2RP.1.328; RPO 1996-2000.