# Poems (Donne)/Elegie IV

This trancription from the 1633 printing of Poems duplicates the use of the long s as in the original. A modernized edition is availble at Poems of John Donne/Volume 1/Elegy 4.
<poem> Once, and but once found in thy company, All thy ſuppos'd eſcapes are laid on mee; And as a thiefe at barre, is queſtion'd there By all the men, that have beene rob'd that yeare, So am I, (by this traiterous meanes ſurpriz'd) By thy Hydroptique father catechiz'd. Though hee hath oft ſworne, that hee would remove Thy beauties beautie, and food of our love, Hope of his goods, if I wish thee were ſeene, Yet cloſe and ſecret, as our ſoules, we'have beene. Though thy immortall mother which doth lye, Still buried in her bed, yet will not dye, Takes this advantage to to ſleepe out day-light, And watch thy entries, and returnes all night, And, when ſhe takes thy hand, and would ſeeme kind, Doth ſearch what rings, and armelets ſhe can finde, And kiſſing notes the colour of thy face, And fearing leaſt thou'art ſwolne, doth thee embrace; To trie if thou long, doth name ſtrange meates. And notes thy paleneſſe, bluſhing, ſighs, and ſweats; And politiquely will to thee confeſſe The ſinnes of her owne youths ranke luſtineſſe; Yet love theſe Sorceries did remove, and move Thee to gull thine owne mother for my love. Thy little brethren, which like Faiery Sprights Oft skipt into our chamber, thoſe ſweet nights, And kiſt, and ingled on thy fathers knee, Were brib'd next day, to tell what they did ſee. The grim-eight-foot-high-iron-bound ſerving-man, That oft names God in oathes, and onely than, He that to barre the firſt gate, doth as wide As the great Rhodian Clolſſos ſtride, Which, if in hell no other paines there were, Makes mee feare hell, becauſe he muſt be there: Though by thy father he were hir'd to this, Could never witneſſe any touch or kiſſe; But Oh, too common ill, I brought with mee That, which betray'd mee to my enemie: A loud perfume, which at my entrance cryed Even at thy fathers noſe, ſo were wee ſpied. When, like a tryran King, that in his bed Smelt gunpowder, the pale wretch ſhivered; Had it beene ſome bad ſmell, he would have thought That his owne feet, or breath, that ſmell had wrought. But as wee in our Ile empriſoned, Where cattell onely,'and diverſe dogs are bred, The pretious-Vnicornes, ſtrange monſters, call, So thought he good, ſtrange, that had none at all. I taught my ſilkes, their whiſtling to forbeare, Even my oppreſt ſhoes, dumbe and ſpeechleſſe were, Onely, thou bitter ſweet, whom I had laid Next mee, mee traiterouſly haft betraid, And unſuſpected haft inviſibly At once fled unto him, and ſtaid with mee. Baſe excrement of earth, which doft confound Senſe, from diſtinguiſhing the ſicke from found; By thee the ſeely Amorous ſucks his death By drawing in a leprous harlots breath, By thee, the greateſt ſtaine to mans eſtate Falls on us, to be call'd effeminate; Though you be much lov'd in the Princes hall, There, things that ſeeme, exceed ſubſtantiall. Gods, when yee fum'd on altars, were pleas'd well, Becauſe you'were burnt, not that they lik'd your ſmell, You'are loathſome all, being taken ſimply alone, Shall wee love ill things joyn'd, and hate each one? If you were good, your good doth ſoone decay; And you are rare, that takes the good away. All my perfumes, I give moſt willingly To'embalme thy fathers corſe; What? will hee die?
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