Love's Usury

by John Donne

　　 I will allow,

　　Usurious god of love, twenty to thee,

　　When with my brown my gray hairs equal be.

　　Till then, Love, let my body range, and let

　　Me travel, sojourn, snatch, plot, have, forget,

　　Resume my last year's relict; think that yet

　　 We'd never met.

　　Let me think any rival's letter mine,

　　 And at next nine

　　Keep midnight's promise; mistake by the way

　　The maid, and tell the lady of that delay;

　　Only let me love none; no, not the sport

　　From country grass to confitures of court,

　　Or city's quelque-choses; let not report

　　 My mind transport.

　　This bargain's good; if when I'm old, I be

　　 Inflamed by thee,

　　If thine own honour, or my shame and pain,

　　Thou covet most, at that age thou shalt gain.

　　Do thy will then; then subject and degree

　　And fruit of love, Love, I submit to thee.

　　Spare me till then; I'll bear it, though she be

　　 One that love me.