Michael Drayton (1563-1631) in 1628.
SINCE ther’s no helpe come let us kiss and part;
Nay I have done; You get no more of Me:
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart
That thus so cleanly I my selfe can free.
Shake hands for ever; Cancell all our Vowes;
And when we meet at any time againe,
Be it not seen in either of our Browes
That we one jot of former Love reteyne.
Now at the last gaspe of Loves latest Breath
When, his Pulse fayling, Passion speechlesse lies,
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of Death
And Innocence is closing up his Eyes;
Now, if thou would’st, when all have given him over,
From Death to Life thou might’st him yet recover.