Sunday, 17 May: True love

I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I
Did, till we lov'd? Were we not wean'd till then?

But suck'd on country pleasures, childlishly?

Or snorted we in the seven sleepers den?

Twas so: But this, all pleasures fancies bee.

If ever any beauty I did see,

which I desir'd, and got, t'was but a dreame of thee.

(First stanza of' "The good morrow" - John Donne)