Dear love, for nothing less than thee <br />Would I have broke this happy dream; <br />It was a theme <br />For reason, much too strong for phantasy: <br />Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet <br />My dream thou brok'st not, but continued'st it. <br />Thou art so truth that thoughts of thee suffice <br />To make dreams truths, and fables histories. <br />Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best <br />Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest. <br /> <br />As lightning or a taper's light, <br />Thine eyes, and not thy noise, waked me; <br />Yet I thought thee <br />(For thou lov'st truth) an angel at first sight; <br />But when I saw thou saw'st my heart, <br />And knew'st my thoughts, beyond an angels art, <br />When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when <br />Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then, <br />I must confess it could not choose but be <br />Prophane to think thee anything but thee. <br /> <br />Comming and staying showed thee thee, <br />But rising makes me doubt, that now <br />Thou art not thou. <br />That Love is weak, where fear's as strong as he; <br />'Tis not all spirit pure and brave <br />If mixture it of Fear, Shame, Honour, have. <br />Perchance as torches, which must ready be, <br />Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me, <br />Thou cam'st to kindle, go'st to come; Then I <br />Will dream that hope again, but else would die.<br /><br />John Donne<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dream/
