(note to anyone under the age of one hundred, this poem is very intense)
Agrippa D' Aubigné
Stanzas To Diane
I open here my breast, a bloody tomb
Of lurid woes: for God's sake, turn your eyes,
Diane, and see my cleft heart where it lies
And see my lungs engrav'd with passions doom.
My frothing blood all blacken'd with the flame,
My wretched bones dried out with my despair;
But also what invisibly is there:
The torments which ransack my spirits frame.
You burn me, and at the furnace of desire
You warm your icy hands; in careful wise
You stir my coals, and your inhuman eyes
Weep not with pity but with burning ire.
In the fire of the furry I provoke
Your eyes swell up with pain and overflow,
But 'tis not the unhappiness I owe-
Your eyes are troubled by my bitter smoke
At least my death may please your greedy soul,
Burning the heart and body of your slave;
May then my spirit sweeter torture have,
In dying thus your rage exausting whole.