<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=37441" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Relic</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">When my grave is broke up again<br>Some second guest to entertain,<br>—For graves have learn'd that woman-head,<br>To be to more than one a bed—<br>And he that digs it, spies<br>A bracelet of bright hair about the bone,<br>Will he not let us alone,<br>And think that there a loving couple lies,<br>Who thought that this device might be some way<br>To make their souls at the last busy day<br>Meet at this grave, and make a little stay?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If this fall in a time, or land,<br>Where mass-devotion doth command,<br>Then he that digs us up will bring<br>Us to the bishop or the king,<br>To make us relics; then<br>Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen, and I<br>A something else thereby;<br>All women shall adore us, and some men.<br>And, since at such time miracles are sought,<br>I would have that age by this paper taught<br>What miracles we harmless lovers wrought.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">First we loved well and faithfully,<br>Yet knew not what we loved, nor why;<br>Difference of sex we never knew,<br>No more than guardian angels do;<br>Coming and going we<br>Perchance might kiss, but not between those meals;<br>Our hands ne'er touch'd the seals,<br>Which nature, injured by late law, sets free.<br>These miracles we did; but now alas!<br>All measure, and all language, I should pass,<br>Should I tell what a miracle she was.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Donne">John Donne</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=37441" data-title="The Relic de John Donne" data-description="When my grave is broke up again/Some second guest to entertain,/—For graves have learn'd that woman-head,/To be to more than one a bed—/And he that digs it, spies/A bracelet of bright hair about the bone,/Will he not let us alone,/And think th..."></div> </div> </div>

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