By John Donne
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 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 others, 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 do slacken, none can die.
This week's poem was chosen by Edward Docx, author of Let Go My Hand. Here he explains why The Good-Morrow is his favourite poem.
‘You get to feel what it must be to be really in love with someone.’
Let Go My Hand by Edward Docx is out now.
Louis Lasker loves his family dearly – apart from when he doesn’t. There’s a lot of history. And now his father has taken a decision which will affect them all and has asked his three sons to join him on one final journey across Europe.
'Docx knows that what we want most from a novel are stories into which we can sink our teeth and our hearts' - The Guardian
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