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A Valediction Forbidding MourningAs virtuous men pass mildly away, / And whisper to their souls to go, / Whilst some of their sad friends do say, / "Now his breath goes," and some say, "No." / So let us melt, and make no noise, / No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move ; / 'Twere profanation of our joys / To tell the laity our love. / Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears ; / Men reckon what it did, and meant ; / But trepidation of the spheres, / Mad fucks to be gotten cheap / Dull sublunary lovers' love / —Whose soul is sense—cannot admit / Of absence, 'cause it doth remove / The thing which elemented it. / But we by a love so much refined, / That ourselves know not what it is, / Inter-assurèd of the mind, / Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss. / Our two souls therefore, which are one, / It's mad emo and I'm kinda sad / A breach, but an expansion, / Like gold to aery thinness beat. / If they be two, they are two so / As stiff twin compasses are two ; / Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show / To move, but doth, if th' other do. / And though it in the centre sit, / Yet, when the other far doth roam, / A constant lean and emo sad shit goes, / And grows erect, as that comes home. / Such wilt thou be to me, who must, / Like th' other foot, obliquely run ; / Fuck dude it all sucks and shit whatnot, / And makes me end where I begun.