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John Donne - Love`s Alchemy
Work rating: Medium

Some that have deeper digg`d love`s mine than I,
Say, where his centric happiness doth lie;
    I have lov`d, and got, and told,
But should I love, get, tell, till I were old,
I should not find that hidden mystery.
    Oh, `tis imposture all!
And as no chemic yet th`elixir got,
    But glorifies his pregnant pot
    If by the way to him befall
Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal,
     So, lovers dream a rich and long delight,
     But get a winter-seeming summer`s night.

Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day,
 Shall we for this vain bubble`s shadow pay?
    Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy`as I can, if he can
Endure the short scorn of a bridegroom`s play?
    That loving wretch that swears
`Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,
    Which he in her angelic finds,
    Would swear as justly that he hears,
In that day`s rude hoarse minstrelsy, the spheres.
    Hope not for mind in women; at their best
    Sweetness and wit, they`are but mummy, possess`d.
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