
The speaker addresses the image of the woman he loves, more than he loves her in person: her fair impression in his faithful heart makes him her medal, as kings' stamps give value to coins, and this image makes her love him. He bids the image go and take his heart from him, since his heart has grown too great and good for him; honours oppress weak spirits, and strong objects dull the senses, so that the more he perceives, the less he truly sees. When the image is gone, and reason gone with it, fantasy becomes queen and soul and all, presenting joys meaner than the real woman but more convenient and proportional. So if he dreams he has her, he has her, for all their joys are but fantastical, and thus he escapes pain, since pain is true; sleep, which locks up sense, locks out all pain too. After such fruition he expects to wake and, apart from the waking itself, to have nothing to repent, and he will make more thankful sonnets to love than if more honour, tears, and pains were spent. But then he checks himself, addressing his dearest heart and dearer image, asking it to stay: true joys at best are only dream enough, and though the image stays with him, it passes too fast away, for even at first, life's taper is but a snuff. He closes wishing that, filled with her love, he may be rather grown mad with much heart than an idiot with none.
By John Donne · First published 1633 · Genre: Love Poetry, Metaphysical Poetry, Lyric Poetry · 342 words
Image of her whom I love, more than she, / Whose fair impression in my faithful heart / Makes me her medal, and makes her love me, / As kings do coins, to which their stamps impart / The value; go, and take my heart from hence, / Which now is grown too great and good for me. / Honours oppress weak spirits, and our sense / Strong objects dull; the more, the less we see. / When you are gone, and reason gone with you, / Then fantasy is queen and soul, and all; / She can present joys meaner than you do, / Convenient, and more proportional. / So, if I dream I have you, I have you, / For all our joys are but fantastical; / And so I 'scape the pain, for pain is true; / And sleep, which locks up sense, doth lock out all. / After a such fruition I shall wake, / And, but the waking, nothing shall repent; / And shall to love more thankful sonnets make, / Than if more honour, tears, and pains were spent. / But, dearest heart and dearer image, stay; / Alas! true joys at best are dream enough; / Though you stay here, you pass too fast away, / For even at first life's taper is a snuff. / Fill'd with her love, may I be rather grown / Mad with much heart, than idiot with none.
The Dream: Image of her whom I Love, more than She is listed on Textopian as a poem by John Donne, dated 1633 CE.
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dream · love · devotion · romantic · idealization · metaphysical · emotion · desire · longing · imagination · ethereal · passion