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Songs and Sonnets
The Dissolution

by John Donne

   Shee' is dead; And all which die 
   To their first Elements resolve; 
And wee were mutuall Elements to us, 
      And made of one another. 
   My body then doth hers involve, 
And those things whereof I consist, hereby 
In me abundant grow, and burdenous, 
      And nourish not, but smother. 
   My fire of Passion, sighes of ayre, 
Water of teares, and earthly sad despaire, 
         Which my materialls bee, 
But ne'r worne out by loves securitie, 
Shee, to my losse, doth by her death repaire, 
   And I might live long wretched so 
But that my fire doth with my fuell grow. 
      Now as those Active Kings 
   Whose foraine conquest treasure brings, 
Receive more, and spend more, and soonest breake: 
This (which I am amaz'd that I can speake) 
      This death, hath with my store 
         My use encreas'd. 
And so my soule more earnestly releas'd, 
Will outstrip hers; As bullets flowen before 
A latter bullet may o'rtake, the pouder being more
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