Since she whom I loved 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 on 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 thristy dropsy melts me yet. <br />But why should I beg more love, whenas thou <br />Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all thine: <br />And dost not only fear lest I allow <br />My love to saints and angels, things divine, <br />but in they 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-sonnet-xvii-since-she-whom-i-loved/
