1Thou art not so black as my heart,
2 Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art;
3What wouldst thou say? Shall both our properties by thee be spoke,
4Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke?
5 Marriage rings are not of this stuff;
6 Oh, why should aught less precious or less tough,
7Figure our loves? Except in thy name thou have bid it say,
8“I’m cheap, and naught but fashion, fling me away.”
9 Yet stay with me since thou art come,
10 Circle this finger’s top, which didst her thumb;
11Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with me,
12She that, oh, broke her faith, would soon break thee.
Thou art not so black as my heart,
Nor half so brittle as her heart, thou art;
What wouldst thou say? Shall both our properties by thee be spoke,
Nothing more endless, nothing sooner broke?
Marriage rings are not of this stuff;
Oh, why should aught less precious or less tough,
Figure our loves? Except in thy name thou have bid it say,
“I’m cheap, and naught but fashion, fling me away.”
Yet stay with me since thou art come,
Circle this finger’s top, which didst her thumb;
Be justly proud, and gladly safe, that thou dost dwell with me,
She that, oh, broke her faith, would soon break thee.
Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.
The Poem Aloud — Listen to a reading of the poem.
A Portrait of Donne — Admire a famous portrait of Donne in which he presents himself as a melancholy lover.
A Brief Biography — Read the Poetry Foundation's short overview of Donne's life and work.
A Celebration of Donne — Read an article on Donne by Katherine Rundell, the author of a recent Donne biography.