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首页John Donne Selected PoemsJohn Donne Selected Poems-7

John Donne Selected Poems-7

        ark mad, whoever says,

        t h been in love an hour,

        Yet not t love so soon decays,

        But t it    ten in less space devour ;

        ho will believe me, if I swear

        t I he plague a year?

        laug me, if I should say

        I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

        A a trifle is a ,

        If oo loves    e !

        All ot

        to ot some ;

        to us, but us love draws ;

        he swallows us and never chaws ;

        By , whole ranks do die ;

        yrant pike, our s the fry.

        If t so, w did bee

        Of my    hee?

        I broug into the room,

        But from th me.

        If it o thee, I know

        Mine o show

        More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !

        At one first blow did s as glass.

        Yet noto nothing fall,

        Nor any place be empty quite ;

        t h all

        till, t unite ;

        And now, as broken glasses show

        A hundred lesser faces, so

        My rags of     like, wish, and adore,

        But after one such love,    love no more.

        hERE, like a pillow on a bed,

        A pregnant bank so rest

        ts reing head,

        Sat .

        Our ed

        By a fast balm, whence did spring ;

        Our eye-beams ted, and did thread

        Our eyes upon one double string.

        So to engraft our

        as all to make us one ;

        And pictures in our eyes to get

        as all our propagation.

        As, t te

        Suspends uain victory,

        Our souls—ate,

        ere go— her and me.

        And iate there,

        e like sepulcatues lay ;

        All day, tures were,

        And he day.

        If any, so by love refined,

        t ood,

        And by good love were grown all mind,

        it distaood,

        which soul spake,

        Because bot, bothe same—

        Migion take,

        And part far purer than he came.

        tasy doth unperplex

        (e said) and tell us w we love ;

        e see by t    sex ;

        e see, , w did move :

        But as all several souls tain

        Mixture of t w,

        Love th mix again,

        And makes bot.

        A single violet transplant,

        trengthe size—

        All w—

        Redoubles still, and multiplies.

        her so

        Interanimates two souls,

        t abler soul, wh flow,

        Defects of loneliness trols.

        e this new soul, know,

        Of w we are posed, and made,

        For tomies of which we grow

        Are souls, whom no ge    invade.

        But, O alas ! so long, so far,

        Our bodies why do we forbear?

        t we ; we are

        telligehe spheres.

        e ohus

        Did us, to us, at first vey,

        Yielded to us,

        Nor are dross to us, but allay.

        On man    so,

        But t it first imprints the air ;

        For soul into the soul may flow,

        t to body first repair.

        As our blood labours to beget

        Spirits, as like souls as it    ;

        Because suit

        t subtle knot, which makes us man ;

        So must pure lovers souls desd

        to affes, and to faculties,

        hich sense may read apprehend,

        Else a great prin prison lies.

        to our bodies turn    so

        eak men on love reveald may look ;

        Loves mysteries in souls do grow,

        But yet the body is his book.

        And if some lover, such as we,

        his dialogue of one,

        Let ill mark us, he shall see

        Small co bodies gone.

        I LONG to talk ,

        he god of love was born.

        I ot t ,

        Sunk so loo love one which did s.

        But siiny,

        And t viature, , lets it be,

        I must love    loves not me.

        Sure, t not so much,

        Nor ised it.

        But ouch,

        ly to fit

        Actives to passives. Correspondency

        Only     ot be

        Love, till I love her, who loves me.

        But every mod end

        prerogative as far as Jove.

        te, to lust, to e to, to end,

        All is the god of love.

        O ! yranny

        to ungod t could not be

        I s me.

        Rebel and at too, why murmur I,

        As t t t love could do?

        Love mig try

        A deeper plague, to make oo ;

        o see.

        Falsee ; and t must be,

        If she whom I love, should love me.
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