To His Mistress Going to Bed

Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy; Until I labour, I in labour lie. The foe is in the rear: colours exalted fly. Ánd the last moment approached, we’ll list and cry.

O my fairest, my riches here abound, Sunk in this pleasure while I dwell around! Wait next my side, my rarest pearl and prize! May you match your twinkling eyes, And let your thundering pulse, so sweet, Raise perfect blooms carried bare, while tender souls-ly fleet!

So we may rouse, together brimming green Arm in arm to wear upon our flesh a sheen; And as I may entrust each sinew which I own Love this day, sweet slips of time unfolds, up on th’ throne Carried by flames of wild and darling rain.

So long as the winds that tease renew, We lean into the warmth and let it coalesce, a few. I’ll feel the breath escape through body’s keen, And souls in this embrace will craft once more beloved scene.

• John Donne