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.