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THE GOOD-MORROW
by John Donne
i wonder by my troth, what thou and i
did, till we loved ? were we not wean'd till then ?
but suck'd on country pleasures, childishly ?
or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den ?
'twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;
if ever any beauty i did see,
which i desired, and got, 'twas but a dream of thee.
and now good-morrow to our waking souls,
which watch not one another out of fear ;
for love all love of other sights controls,
and makes one little room an everywhere.
let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone ;
let maps to other, worlds on worlds have shown ;
let us possess one world ; each hath one, and is one.
my face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
and true plain hearts do in the faces rest ;
where can we find two better hemispheres
without sharp north, without declining west ?
whatever dies, was not mix'd equally ;
if our two loves be one, or thou and i
love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.
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