Calligramme

This is a poster created by my favorite John Donne poem "The Sun Rising". It took far longer than it probably should have, so enjoy. :-)

The Sun Rising: John Donne
Busy old fool, unruly sun.
Why dost thou thus
Through windows and through curtains call on us?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run?
Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
Late schoolboys and sour prentices
Go tell court huntsmen that the king will ride
Call country ants to harvest offices;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

Thy beams, reverend and strong
Why shouldst thou think?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink
But that I would not lose her sight so long;
If her eyes have not blinded thine
Look, and tomorrow late, tell me
Whether both the Indias of spice and mine
Be where thou lefst them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday
And thou shalt hear, All here in one bed lay.

She is all states, and all princes I
Nothing else is.
Princes do buy play us; compared to this
All honor's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
Thou sun art half as happy as we
In that the world's contracted thus;
Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.