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Read more poems by John Donne: John Donne Poems at Poetry X.

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The Token

John Donne

Send me some token, that my hope may live,
  Or that my easeless thoughts may sleep and rest;
Send me some honey to make sweet my hive,
  That in my passions I may hope the best.
I beg no riband wrought with thine own hands,
  To knit our loves in the fantastic strain
Of new-touched youth; nor ring to show the stands
  Of our affection, that as that's round and plain,
So should our loves meet in simplicity;
  No, nor the corals which thy wrist enfold,
Laced up together in congruity,
  To show our thoughts should rest in the same hold;
No, nor thy picture, though most gracious,
  And most desired, because best like the best;
Nor witty lines, which are most copious,
  Within the writings which thou hast addressed.

Send me nor this, nor that, to increase my store,
But swear thou think'st 'I love thee,' and no more.

Submitted by Melanie Wright

Added: 24 Feb 2003 | Last Read: 13 Dec 2018 8:05 PM | Viewed: 5398 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/7979/ | Viewed on 13 December 2018.
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