| Love's Usury... John Donne... |
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For every hour that thou wilt spare me now, I will allow, Usurious God of Love, twenty to thee, When with my brown, my gray hairs equal thee; Till then, Love, let my body reign, and let Me travel, sojourn, snatch, plot, have, forget, Resume my last year's relict: think that yet We'd never meet. |
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Let me think any rival's letter mine, And at next nine Keep midnight's promise; mistake by the way The maid, and tell the lady of that delay; Only let me love none, no, not the sport; From country grass, to comfitures of Court, Or city's quelque choses, let report My mind transport. |
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This bargain's good; if when I'm old, I be Inflam'd by thee, If thine own honor, or my shame, or pain, Thou covet most, at that age thou shalt gain. Do thy will then, then subject and degree, And fruit of love, Love I submit to thee, Spare me till then, I'll bear it, though she be One that loves me. |
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