The Good-Morrow
John Donne, 1633
Donne’s love poem of two lovers waking together, who find that their love makes one little room a whole world of its own.
I wonder, by my troth, what thou and IDid, 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 hemispheresWithout sharp north, without declining west?Whatever dies, was not mix’d equally;If our two loves be one, or thou and ILove so alike that none can slacken, none can die.