The Expiration

by John Donne

　　 Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away;

　　Turn, thou ghost, that way, and let me turn this,

　　 And let ourselves benight our happiest day.

　　We ask none leave to love; nor will we owe

　　 Any so cheap a death as saying, "Go."

　　Go; and if that word have not quite killed thee,

　　 Ease me with death, by bidding me go too.

　　Or, if it have, let my word work on me,

　　 And a just office on a murderer do.

　　Except it be too late, to kill me so,

　　 Being double dead, going, and bidding, "Go."