On The Death Of Mr William Hervey

IT was a dismal and a fearful night:

Scarce could the Morn drive on th’ unwilling Light,

When Sleep, Death’s image, left my troubled breast

By something liker Death possest.

My eyes with tears did uncommanded flow,

And on my soul hung the dull weight

Of some intolerable fate.

What bell was that? Ah me! too much I know!

My sweet companion and my gentle peer,

Why hast thou left me thus unkindly here,

Thy end for ever and my life to moan?

O, thou hast left me all alone!

Thy soul and body, when death’s agony

Besieged around thy noble heart,

Did not with more reluctance part

Than I, my dearest Friend, do part from thee.

My dearest Friend, would I had died for thee!

Life and this world henceforth will tedious be:

Nor shall I know hereafter what to do

If once my griefs prove tedious too.

Silent and sad I walk about all day,

As sullen ghosts stalk speechless by

Where their hid treasures lie;

Alas! my treasure ‘s gone; why do I stay?

Say, for you saw us, ye immortal lights,

How oft unwearied have we spent the nights,

Till the Ledaean stars, so famed for love,

Wonder’d at us from above!

We spent them not in toys, in lusts, or wine;

But search of deep Philosophy,

Wit, Eloquence, and Poetry-

Arts which I loved, for they, my Friend, were thine.

Ye fields of Cambridge, our dear Cambridge, say

Have ye not seen us walking every day?

Was there a tree about which did not know

The love betwixt us two?

Henceforth, ye gentle trees, for ever fade;

Or your sad branches thicker join

And into darksome shades combine,

Dark as the grave wherein my Friend is laid!

Large was his soul: as large a soul as e’er

Submitted to inform a body here;

High as the place ’twas shortly in Heaven to have,

But low and humble as his grave.

So high that all the virtues there did come,

As to their chiefest seat

Conspicuous and great;

So low, that for me too it made a room.

Knowledge he only sought, and so soon caught

As if for him Knowledge had rather sought;

Nor did more learning ever crowded lie

In such a short mortality.

Whene’er the skilful youth discoursed or writ,

Still did the notions throng

About his eloquent tongue;

Nor could his ink flow faster than his wit.

His mirth was the pure spirits of various wit,

Yet never did his God or friends forget;

And when deep talk and wisdom came in view,

Retired, and gave to them their due.

For the rich help of books he always took,

Though his own searching mind before

Was so with notions written o’er,

As if wise Nature had made that her book.

With as much zeal, devotion, piety,

He always lived, as other saints do die.

Still with his soul severe account he kept,

Weeping all debts out ere he slept.

Then down in peace and innocence he lay,

Like the Sun’s laborious light,

Which still in water sets at night,

Unsullied with his journey of the day.

But happy Thou, ta’en from this frantic age,

Where ignorance and hypocrisy does rage!

A fitter time for Heaven no soul e’er chose-

The place now only free from those.

There ‘mong the blest thou dost for ever shine;

And wheresoe’er thou casts thy view

Upon that white and radiant crew,

See’st not a soul clothed with more light than thine.

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Poems in English 

• Sonnet 115: Those lines that I before have writ do lie by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 114: Or whether doth my mind, being crowned with you by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 113: Since I left you, mine eye is in my mind by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 112: Your love and pity doth th’ impression fill by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 110: Alas, ’tis true, I have gone here and there by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 109: O, never say that I was false of heart by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 108: What’s in the brain that ink may character by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 107: Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 105: Let not my love be called idolatry by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 102: My love is strengthened, though more weak in seeming by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 101: O truant Muse, what shall be thy amends by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet 100: Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget’st so long by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sonnet LIV by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Silvia by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare
• Sigh No More by William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare

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