Poem(A Valediction:of Weeping

Let me power forth My teares before they face,whil'st I stay here, For they face coined them,and thy stamped they beare, And by this Mintage they are something worth, For thus they bee Pregnant of thee; Fruits of much grief they are,emblems of more;
When a teare falls,that thou fal'st which it bore,
So thou and I are nothing then,when on a divers shore.
On a round ball
A workman that hath copies by,can lay
An Europe,Afrique,and an Asia,
And quickly make that,which was nothing,All,
So doth each teare,
Which thee doth weare,
A globe,yea world by that impression grow,
Till thy teares mixt with nine doe overflow
This world,by waters sent from thee,my heaven dissolved so.
O more than Noone,
Draw not up seas to drowned me in thy spheare,
Weepe me not dead,in thine armed,but forbearers
To teach the sea,what it may doe too sooner;
Let not the wondering
Example Flinders
To doe me more harme,that it purpose the;
Since thou and I sigh one another's breath,
Who e'er sighs most is cruellest,and hasta the other's death. Source(Google)