The Good Morrow by John Donne (1572-1631) 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 snored we in the Seven Sleepers' den? T'was so; but this, all pleasures fancies be; If every any beauty I did see. Which I desired, and got, t'was 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 mixed equally; If our two loves be one, or thou and I Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die.