love I submit to thee

It's my birthday, and it's a Donne year. I was thinking pretty seriously about posting The Sunne Rising again, even though I posted it in 2008; but then there was this one, and I like this one. Credit to K for picking it out for me. Additional credit to K for cleaning my kitchen and baking me a cake. (Best platonic wife ever.) Anyway, it's a gorgeous day, and I haven't done nearly enough grading, but I did go out this morning and get bagels, and I lay around in the sunshine and read fic, and later I am going out to dinner with a whole bunch of great people, so I'm calling it: fuck yeah, happy birthday to me.

For every houre that thou wilt spare mee now,
I will allow,
Usurious God of Love, twenty to thee,
When with my browne, my gray haires equall bee;
Till then, Love, let my body raigne, and let
Mee travell, sojourne, snatch, plot, have, forget,
Resume my last yeares relict: thinke that yet
We'had never met.

Let mee thinke any rivalls letter mine,
And at next nine
Keepe midnights promise; mistake by the way
The maid, and tell the Lady of that delay;
Onely let mee love none, no, not the sport
From country grasse, to comfitures of Court,
Or cities quelque choses, let report
My minde transport.

This bargaine's good; if when I'am old, I bee
Inflam'd by thee,
If thine owne honour, or my shame, or paine,
Thou covet most, at that age thou shalt gaine.
Doe thy will then, then subject and degree,
And fruit of love, Love I submit to thee,
Spare mee till then, I'll beare it, though she bee
One that loves mee.

—John Donne (1572-1631), "Loves Usury" from Songs and Sonets, which I always feel obliged to note contains neither songs nor sonnets. Donne's poetry was first published in print in 1633, but circulated in manuscript both before and after. I don't know anything like a specific date for this one, and am too lazy to go look it up in the Variorum. Meanwhile, I love it when poets try to bargain with Love. Spoilers: it doesn't usually work.