In John Donne's metaphysical poem "The Sun Rising," the persona addresses the sun directly, and his attitude moves through scorn, defiant superiority and finally a gracious condescension, all serving to exalt the lovers' bond above every worldly power.
Scorn and impatience. The poem opens with insult. The persona calls the sun a "busy old fool, unruly Sun" and a "saucy pedantic wretch" for intruding through curtains to disturb the lovers in bed. He resents the sun's authority over time, its power to summon schoolboys, apprentices, courtiers and huntsmen to their duties, and he insists that love is not subject to the sun's seasons, hours or days.
Defiant superiority. The persona then belittles the sun's supposed strength. He boasts that he could eclipse the sun's beams merely by closing his eyes, but will not, because that would mean losing sight of his beloved. He hyperbolically claims that his mistress contains all the riches of the Indies and that she is "all states" while he is "all princes." Compared to their love, all worldly honour is mimicry and all wealth is alchemy, mere counterfeit.
Gracious condescension. In the final stanza his tone softens into a lofty generosity. Since the lovers are the whole world, the sun, being old and needing rest, can perform its duty of warming the world simply by shining on their bed: "Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere; / This bed thy centre is, these walls thy sphere." The sun is thus demoted from tyrant to servant of the lovers.
Conclusion. The poet's attitude to the sun is therefore one of playful contempt turning to triumphant assertion of love's supremacy. By mocking, then commanding, the sun, Donne dramatises the metaphysical conceit that the lovers' private world is the true universe, before which even the sun must bow.