Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears,
   Men reckon what it did, and meant;
But trepidation of the spheres,
   Though greater far, is innocent.

In these lines (9–12), the speaker references both the physical quaking of the earth and the spiritual shaking of the cosmos. In the previous two stanzas the speaker stressed the importance of parting ways peacefully. Specifically, he linked emotional responses to natural disasters when he asked his lover to “make no noise, / No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests” (lines 5–6). In the passage quoted above, he recalls these references to “tear-floods” and “sigh-tempests” in his discussion of the “moving of th’ earth.” His point here, however, is that such earthquakes, despite causing damage and seeming symbolic, are in fact not worth worrying about. More significant is the “trepidation of the spheres.” This phrase refers to the Ptolemaic model of the universe, in which earth sits at the center of a nested set of cosmic spheres. Trepidation specifically denotes a disturbance that passes from the outer to the inner spheres. Though much more violent than an earthquake, this shaking isn’t destructive or ominous. Given his subsequent emphasis on spiritual versus physical forms of love, this stanza marks a transitional moment in the speaker’s address. He advises his lover to turn her attention from the earthly concerns of the body to the cosmic concerns of the spirit.

Dull sublunary lovers' love
   (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
   Those things which elemented it.

In lines 13–16, the speaker rejects what he calls “dull sublunary lovers’ love.” The word sublunary literally means “beneath the moon,” and it implicitly refers to the Ptolemaic model of the universe, in which the earth, situated at the cosmic center, lies below the sphere of the moon. The earth represents the most imperfect region of the Ptolemaic universe. Whereas the outer spheres grow increasingly spiritual, pure, and fixed, the earth is material, impure, and subject to change. This morally charged cosmic architecture helps explain the speaker’s disdain for “sublunary lovers’ love,” which is earthly and hence too dependent on physical intimacy. Indeed, the “soul” of this type of love is “sense,” where sense relates to sensuousness and to perception through the bodily senses. If this is a lesser form of love, it’s because “absence . . . doth remove / Those things which elemented it” (lines 15–16). In other words, this love can’t sustain itself without the immediate, physical presence of the two lovers. As an additional point of interest, it's worth noting that Donne’s use of the verb “elemented” comes from alchemy, where it references the process whereby elements form chemical reactions.

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
   Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
   Like gold to airy thinness beat.

In lines 21–24, the speaker follows up on his critique of earthly love and its inability to sustain itself without physical intimacy. In contrast to this lesser form of love, the speaker insists that he and his lover share a more profound relation characterized by spiritual unity. He initially expresses this unity through the idea of “two souls” that, despite being distinct, are nonetheless “one.” In subsequent lines, however, the speaker takes this idea further. If his and his lover’s souls form a spiritual unity, then there’s no reason to think of their physical distance from each other as a separation. Indeed, he reframes the idea of a physical “breach” of distance as a spiritual “expansion” of their love. Note the clever use of enjambment in this quatrain. The second line flows into the third without stopping, which beautifully echoes the speaker’s somewhat paradoxical notion of a breach that’s nonetheless a continuous expansion. Note, too, the striking image the speaker conjures to reflect his notion of expansion: “Like gold to airy thinness beat.” In alchemical symbolism, gold represented purity. The fact that it’s been pressed to “airy thinness” grants this image a powerful spiritual connotation.

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
   Like th' other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
   And makes me end where I begun.

The poem concludes with these lines (33–36), which represent the culmination of Donne’s famous compass conceit. In the previous two stanzas, the speaker introduced the idea that he and his lover are “twin compasses” (line 26)—that is, two parts of a single tool used by geometers and mapmakers to draw precise arcs and circles. This tool consists of two legs (or “compasses”) that are attached to each other at one end, creating a hinge that adjusts the distance between them. At the other end, each leg has a foot. The foot on one leg consists of a metal point that marks the center of the circle and doesn’t move. This is “the fixed foot” referenced in line 27, and which represents the speaker’s lover. The foot on the second leg, which represents the speaker, consists of a piece of lead that moves around the center at a fixed distance, tracing a circle. In these concluding lines, the speaker encourages his lover to stay strong and keep her “foot” firmly planted. Her firmness will enable him to trace a circle that is “just,” which is to say, precise. He will thus be able to return to the point of his departure.

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