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 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 do slacken, none can die.
