Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt <br /> To nature, and to hers, and my good is dead, <br /> And her soul early into heaven ravished, <br /> Wholly in heavenly things my mind is set. <br /> Here the admiring her my mind did whet <br /> To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head; <br /> But though I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed, <br /> A holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet. <br /> But why should I beg more love, whenas thou <br /> Dost woo my soul, for hers off'ring all thine, <br /> And dost not only fear lest I allow <br /> My love to saints and angels, things divine, <br /> But in thy tender jealousy dost doubt <br /> Lest the world, flesh, yea devil put thee out.<br /><br />John Donne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/holy-sonnets-since-she-whom-i-lov-d-hath-paid-he/
