The Legacy

by John Donne

　　As often as from thee I go,

　　Though it be but an hour ago

　　—And lovers' hours be full eternity—

　　I can remember yet, that I

　　Something did say, and something did bestow;

　　Though I be dead, which sent me, I might be

　　Mine own executor, and legacy.

　　I heard me say, "Tell her anon,

　　That myself," that is you, not I,

　　" Did kill me," and when I felt me die,

　　I bid me send my heart, when I was gone;

　　But I alas! could there find none;

　　When I had ripp'd, and search'd where hearts should lie,

　　It kill'd me again, that I who still was true

　　In life, in my last will should cozen you.

　　Yet I found something like a heart,

　　But colours it, and corners had;

　　It was not good, it was not bad,

　　It was entire to none, and few had part;

　　As good as could be made by art

　　It seem'd, and therefore for our loss be sad.

　　I meant to send that heart instead of mine,

　　But O! no man could hold it, for 'twas thine.