XVIII.
If thou desir'st thy children, friends or wife
Should never die, but share immortal life
With the blest Gods, 'tis perfect lunacy;
Bedlam hath many a wiser man than thee:
A doctor and dark room may do thee good;
Take physick, I advise thee, and let blood.
Will nothing but impossibles go down?
Thou wishest that what's not in thy pow'r, may own
Subjection to thy will, and would'st confine
What's in another's pow'r to be in thine.
Thus if thou wish thy son may blameless be,
Though he hath rak'd the sink of infamy,
'Tis a return of thy infirmity;
A spice of madness still: As well you might
With vice were virtue, with that black were white,
"Is wishing then deny'd? And must our mind
To the dull present only be confin'd?"
No, doubtless you may wish; nor need you fear
Defeat, provide you wish within your sphere.
Should never die, but share immortal life
With the blest Gods, 'tis perfect lunacy;
Bedlam hath many a wiser man than thee:
A doctor and dark room may do thee good;
Take physick, I advise thee, and let blood.
Will nothing but impossibles go down?
Thou wishest that what's not in thy pow'r, may own
Subjection to thy will, and would'st confine
What's in another's pow'r to be in thine.
Thus if thou wish thy son may blameless be,
Though he hath rak'd the sink of infamy,
'Tis a return of thy infirmity;
A spice of madness still: As well you might
With vice were virtue, with that black were white,
"Is wishing then deny'd? And must our mind
To the dull present only be confin'd?"
No, doubtless you may wish; nor need you fear
Defeat, provide you wish within your sphere.
No comments:
Post a Comment