By John Donne
I wonder by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we lov’d? were we not wean’d till then?
But suck’d on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we I’ the seaven sleepers den?
‘Twas so;But this, all pleasures fancies bee.
Which I desir’d, and got, ‘twas but a dreame of thee.
And now good morrow to our waking soules,
Which watch not one another out of feare;
For love, all love of other sights controules,
And makes one little roome, an every where.
Let sea- discoverers to new world have gone,
Let maps to others, worlds on worlds have showne,
Let us possesse our world, each hath one, and is one.
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,
And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest,
Where can we finde two better hemispheres
Without sharp North, without declining West?
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.