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Mark Olival-Bartley studied applied linguistics at Hawaii Pacific University, attaining B.A. and M.A. degrees in Teaching English as a Second Language, and poetry at the City College of New York. He is now writing a dissertation on the sonnets of E. A. Robinson at LMU, where he tutors composition alongside editing flyers on poetry and style. His poems and translations have appeared in journals on both sides of the Atlantic. He is the resident poet at EcoHealth, where his science-themed verse is regularly featured, and a senior copyeditor at Review of International American Studies. He also teaches at Münchner Volkshochschule and leads the Amerikahaus Literaturkreis.


The good-morrow.

by John Donne

I wonder by my troth, what thou, and I 
Did, till we lov'd? were we not wean'd till then? 
But suck'd on countrey pleasures, childishly? 
Or snorted we in the seaven sleepers den? 
T'was so; But this, all pleasures fancies bee.        
If ever any beauty I did see, 
Which I desir'd, and got, t'was but a dreame of thee. 
And now good morrow to our waking soules, 
Which watch not one another out of feare; 
For love, all love of other sights controules,  
And makes one little roome, an every where. 
Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone, 
Let Maps to other, worlds on worlds have showne, 
Let us possesse one world, each hath one, and is one. 
My face in thine eye, thine in mine appeares,  
And true plaine hearts doe in the faces rest, 
Where can we finde two better hemispheares 
Without sharpe North, without declining West? 
What ever dyes, was not mixt equally; 
If our two loves be one, or, thou and I  
Love so alike, that none doe slacken, none can die.

Note:  A recitation can be heard here.

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