The Good Morrow
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears
And true plain hearts do in the faces rest,
Where can we find two better hemispheres
Without sharp North, without declining West?
Whatever dies, was not mixed equally; If our two loves be one,
or thou and I Love so alike, that none can slacken, none can die.
John Donne (1572 - 1631)
* Utterly beautiful!
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