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    John Donne - The Dream

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    poetictouch

    by poetictouch

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    John Donne - The Dream - Read by Bob Gonzalez

    The Dream
    by John Donne (1572–1631)

    Dear love, for nothing less than thee
    Would I have broke this happy dream;
    It was a theme
    For reason, much too strong for fantasy.
    Therefore thou waked'st me wisely; yet
    My dream thou brak'st not, but continued'st it:
    Thou art so true that thoughts of thee suffice
    To make dreams truths and fables histories.
    Enter these arms, for since thou thought'st it best
    Not to dream all my dream, let's act the rest.

    As lightning, or a taper's light,
    Thine eyes, and not thy noise, wak'd me;
    Yet I thought thee —
    For thou lov'st truth — an angel at first sight;
    But when I saw thou sawest my heart,
    And knew'st my thoughts beyond an angel's art,
    When thou knew'st what I dreamt, when thou knew'st when
    Excess of joy would wake me, and cam'st then,
    I must confess it could not choose but be
    Profane to think thee anything but thee.

    Coming and staying showd thee thee;
    But rising makes me doubt that now
    Thou art not thou.
    That Love is weak where Fear's as strong as he;
    'Tis not all spirit pure and brave,
    If mixture it of Fear, Shame, Honour have.
    Perchance, as torches, which must ready be,
    Men light and put out, so thou deal'st with me.
    Thou cam'st to kindle, goest to come: then I
    Will dream that hope again, but else would die.