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John Donne: The Good Morrow
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved? Were we not weaned till then?
But sucked 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 over another out of fear.
For love, all love of other sights controls,
And makes one little room an everywhere.
Let sea-discoveries 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 mixed equally.
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I
Love so alike, that none so slacken, none can die.
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