The copy-text is The Temple: Sacred Poems and Private Ejaculations (London, 1633). The notes are my own.
The Collar |
||
| I Struck the board, and cry’d, No more. | ||
| I will abroad.° | will go out | |
| What? shall I ever sigh and pine?° | suffer | |
| My lines° and life are free; free as the rode, | destiny | |
| 5 | Loose as the winde, as large as store.° | abundance |
| Shall I be still° in suit?° | always — waiting for a reward | |
| Have I no harvest but a thorn | ||
| To let me bloud,° and not restore | to remove blood from me | |
| What I have lost with cordiall fruit? | ||
| 10 | Sure there was wine | |
| Before my sighs did drie it: there was corn° | grain | |
| Before my tears did drown it. | ||
| Is the yeare onely lost to me? | ||
| Have I no bayes° to crown it? | wreaths to honor poets or generals | |
| 15 | No flowers, no garlands gay? all blasted?° | withered |
| All wasted? | ||
| Not so, my heart: but there is fruit, | ||
| And thou hast hands. | ||
| Recover all thy sigh-blown age | ||
| 20 | On double pleasures: leave thy cold dispute | |
| Of what is fit, and not forsake thy cage, | ||
| Thy rope of sands, | ||
| Which pettie thoughts have made, and made to thee | ||
| Good cable, to enforce and draw, | ||
| 25 | And be thy law, | |
| While thou didst wink° and wouldst not see. | close the eyes | |
| Away; take heed: | ||
| I will abroad. | ||
| Call in thy deaths head° there: tie up thy fears. | a skull, a reminder of mortality | |
| 30 | He that forbears° | refrains from |
| To suit and serve his need, | ||
| Deserves his load. | ||
| But as I rav’d and grew more fierce and wilde, | ||
| At every word, | ||
| 35 | Me thoughts° I heard one calling, Childe: | it seemed to me |
| And I reply’d, My Lord. |