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John Donne Selected Poems 作者：约翰·多恩投票推荐加入书签留言反馈

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THE FLEA.

 MARK but this flea, and mark in this,

 How little that which thou de me is ;

 It suckd me first, and now sucks thee,

 And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.

 Thou knowst that this ot be said

 A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;

 Yet this enjoys before it woo,

 And pamperd swells with one blood made of two ;

 And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

 O stay, three lives in one flea spare,

 Where we almost, yea, more than married are.

 This flea is you and I, and this

 Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.

 Though parents grudge, and you, were met,

 And cloisterd in these living walls of jet.

 Though use make you apt to kill me,

 Let not to that self-murder added be,

 And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

 Cruel and sudden, hast thou since

 Purpled thy nail in blood of innoce?

 Wherein could this flea guilty be,

 Except in that drop which it suckd from thee?

 Yet thou triumphst, and sayst that thou

 Findst not thyself nor me the weaker now.

 Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;

 Just so much honour, when thou yieldst to me,

 Will waste, as this fleas death took life from thee.

 THE GOOD-MORROW.

 I WONDER by my troth, what thou and I

 Did, till we loved ? were we not weand till then ?

 But suckd on try pleasures, childishly ?

 Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers den ?

 Twas so ; but this, all pleasures fancies be ;

 If ever ay I did see,

 Which I desired, and got, twas but a dream of thee.

 And now good-morrow to our waking souls,

 Which watot one another out of fear ;

 For love all love of hts trols,

 And makes otle 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 fa thine eye, thine in mine appears,

 And true plais do in the faces rest ;

 Where we find two better hemispheres

 Without sharp north, without dei ?

 Whatever dies, was not mixd equally ;

 If our two loves be one, or thou and I

 Love so alike that none sla, none die.

 SONG.

 GO and catch a falling star,

 Get with child a mandrake root,

 Tell me where all past years are,

 Or who cleft the devils foot,

 Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

 Or to keep off envys stinging,

 And find

 What wind

 Serves to advan ho mind.

 If thou best born te sights,

 Things invisible to see,

 Ride ten thousand days and nights,

 Till age snow white hairs on thee,

 Thou, when thou returnst, wilt tell me,

 All strange wohat befell thee,

 And swear,

 No where

 Lives a woman true and fair.

 If thou findst one, let me know,

 Such a pilgr<tt></tt>image were sweet;

 Yet do not, I would not go,

 Though at door we might meet,

 Though she were true, when you met her,

 And last, till you write your letter,

 Yet she

 Will be

 False, ere I e, to two, or three.

 WOMANS STANCY.

 NOW thou hast loved me one whole day,

 To-morrow when thou leavest, what wilt thou say ?

 Wilt thou then ae some new-made vow ?

 Or say that now

 We are not just those persons which we were ?

 Or that oaths made in reverential fear

 Of Love, and his wrath, any may forswear ?

 Or, as true deaths true marriages untie,

 So lovers tracts, images of those,

 Bind but till sleep, deaths image, them unloose ?

 Or, your owo justify,

 For having purposed ge and falsehood, you

 have no way but falsehood to be true ?

 Vain lunatic, against these scapes I could

 Dispute, and quer, if I would ;

 Which I abstain to do,

 For by to-morrow I may think so too.

 THE UAKING.

 I HAVE done one braver thing

 Than all the Worthies did ;

 A a braver theh spring,

 Which is, to keep that hid.

 It were but madness now to impart

 The skill of specular stone,

 When he, which have learnd the art

 To cut it, find none.

 So, if I now should utter this,

 Others—because no more

 Such stuff to work upon, there is—

 Would love but as before.

 But he who loveliness within

 Hath found, all outward loathes,

 For he who color loves, and skin,

 Loves but their oldest clothes.

 If, as I have, you also do

 Virtue in woman see,

 And dare love that, and say so too,

 And fet the He and She ;

 And if this love, though plac鑔 so,

 From profane men you hide,

 Which will no faith on this bestow,

 Or, if they do, deride ;

 Then you have done a braver thing

 Than all the Worthies did ;

 And a braver thence will spring,

 Which is, to keep that hid.

 THE SUN RISING.

 BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,

 Why dost thou thus,

 Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?

 Must to thy motions lovers seasons run ?

 Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide

 Late school-boys and sour prentices,

 Go tell court-huhat the king will ride,

 Call try ants to harvest offices ;

 Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,

 Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

 Thy beams so reverend, and strong

 Why shouldst thou think ?

 I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,

 But that I would not lose her sight so long.

 If her eyes have not blihine,

 Look, and to-morrow late tell me,

 Whether both th Indias of spid mine

 Be where thou leftst them, or lie here with me.

 Ask for those kings whom thou sawst yesterday,

 And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."

 Shes all states, and all princes I ;

 Nothing else is ;

 Princes do but play us ; pared to this,

 All honours mimic, all wealth alchemy.

 Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,

 In that the worlds tracted thus ;

 Thine age asks ease, and sihy duties be

 To warm the world, thats done in warming us.

 Shio us, and thou art everywher<s>..</s>e ;

 This bed thy ter is, these walls thy sphere.

 THE INDIFFERENT.

 I love both fair and brown ;

 Her whom abundance melts, and her whom warays ;

 Her who loves loneness best, and her who masks and plays ;

 Her whom the try formd, and whom the town ;

 Her who believes, and her who tries ;

 Her who still weeps with spongy eyes,

 And her who is dry cork, and never cries.

 I love her, and her, and you, and you ;

 I love any, so she be not true.

 Will no other vice tent you ?

 Will it not serve your turn to do as did your mothers ?

 Or have you all old vices spent, and now would find out others ?

 Or doth a fear that merue torment you ?

 O we are not, be not you so ;

 Let me—and do you—twenty know ;

 Rob me, but bi, a me go.

 Must I, who came to travel thh you,

 Grow your fixd subject, because you are true ?

 Venus heard me sigh this song ;

 And by loves sweetest part, variety, she swore,

 She heard not this till now ; and that it should be so no more.

 She went, examined, aurnd ere long,

 And sa<big>?</big>id, "Alas ! some two or three

 Poor hereti love there be,

 Which think to stablish dangerous stancy.

 But I have told them, Since you will be true,

 You shall be true to them whore false to you. "

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