The speaker regards all previous sexual experience as infantile. Whatever the actual physical activities in which he and his partner(s) engaged, they were akin to the world of the infant who is limited to what he or she can suck. The speaker suggests that there was something sleepily unconscious or dream-like about all this:
Yes, he seems to be saying to his beloved, I've had my share of previous "relationships" but they were, at best, but a dream-like anticipation of you. Unlike the "Elegie," the speaker here seems to be unconcerned with convincing his mistress to make love with him. Instead he is reflecting on what they have already done and the significance of similar acts (with other partners) for his present love.
The bedroom is the site of the awakening but it is parallel to the cosmos of the anthropomorphic tradition. It is a universal "every where" and as such is superior to the world of maps and exploration. The point of the reference to the macrocosm is to deny it the seriousness of the "world" of love.
The world as geographic copulation gives way to a more perfect set of hemispheres that complete each other the way the eyes of the lovers see so that each one's image is in the eye of the other. This perfect cosmos of love avoids the problems of macrocosm ("sharpe North" and "declining West"). Love has thus moved from infantile sexuality to spiritual awakening to a potential equality that points in the direction of immortality ("none can die"). The final line is, perhaps, also a reference to the tradition of courtly love in which sexual passion is to go on endlessly. That is, since "die" often connoted orgasm in seventeenth-century English, the final line of the poem may be suggesting that lovemaking without sexual closure makes the relationship immortal.