John Donne(1572–1631)
Elegy XIX. To His Mistress Going to Bed
C o m e , m a d a m , c o m e , all rest m y p o w e r s defy,
U n t i l I labor, I in labor3 lie.
T h e f o e o f t - t i m e s h a v i n g t h e f o e i n sight,
Is tired w i t h s t a n d i n g t h o u g h he n e v e r fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone 4 glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
U n p i n that s p a n g l e d breastplate5 w h i c h y o u wear,
T h a t th' e y e s o f b u s y f o o l s m a y b e s t o p p e d there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime 0chiming watch
Tells me from you that now it is bed time.
Off with that happy busk, 0 which I envy,corset
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowry meads 0 th'hill's shadow steals.meadows
Off with that wiry coronet and show
T h e hairy d i a d e m 6 w h i c h o n y o u d o t h g r o w :
Now off with those shoes, and then safely7 tread
In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes, heaven's angels used to be
Received by men; thou, Angel, bring'st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet's Paradise; 8 and though
spirits walk in white, we easily know
B y t h i s t h e s e a n g e l s f r o m a n evil sprite:
T h o s e s e t o u r hairs, b u t t h e s e o u r f l e s h u p r i g h t .
License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O m y A m e r i c a ! m y n e w - f o u n d - l a n d ,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery, 0empire
How blest am I in this discovering thee!
T o e n t e r i n t h e s e b o n d s i s t o b e f r e e ;
T h e n w h e r e m y h a n d i s set, m y s e a l s h a l l b e .
F u l l n a k e d n e s s ! All j o y s are d u e t o t h e e ,
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's balls, 9 cast in men's views,
That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them:
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For lay-men, are all women thus arrayed.
Themselves are mystic books, 1 which only we
(Whom their imputed grace will dignify)
Must see revealed. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to a midwife, show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
There is no penance due to innocence: 2
To teach thee, I am naked first; why than, 0then
What needst thou have more covering than a man