| Herbert J.C. Grierson, ed. (1886–1960). Metaphysical Lyrics & Poems of the 17th C. 1921. |
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| John Donne |
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| 17. The Relique |
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| WHEN my grave is broke up againe | |
| Some second ghest to entertaine, | |
| (For graves have learn'd that woman-head | |
| To be to more then one a Bed) | |
| And he that digs it, spies | 5 |
| A bracelet of bright haire about the bone, | |
| Will he not let'us alone, | |
| And thinke that there a loving couple lies, | |
| Who thought that this device might be some way | |
| To make their soules, at the last busie day, | 10 |
| Meet at this grave, and make a little stay? | |
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| If this fall in a time, or land, | |
| Where mis-devotion doth command, | |
| Then, he that digges us up, will bring | |
| Us, to the Bishop, and the King, | 15 |
| To make us Reliques; then | |
| Thou shalt be a Mary Magdalen, and I | |
| A something else thereby; | |
| All women shall adore us, and some men; | |
| And since at such time, miracles are sought, | 20 |
| I would have that age by this paper taught | |
| What miracles wee harmelesse lovers wrought. | |
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| First, we lov'd well and faithfully, | |
| Yet knew not what wee lov'd, nor why, | |
| Difference of sex no more wee knew, | 25 |
| Then our Guardian Angells doe; | |
| Comming and going, wee | |
| Perchance might kisse, but not between those meales; | |
| Our hands ne'r toucht the seales, | |
| Which nature, injur'd by late law, sets free: | 30 |
| These miracles wee did; but now alas, | |
| All measure, and all language, I should passe, | |
| Should I tell what a miracle shee was. | |
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