Love's mysteries in souls do grow, But yet the body is his book.
To an incompetent judge I must not lie, but I may be silent; to a competent I must answer.
As virtuous men pass mildly away, and whisper to their souls to go, whilst some of their sad friends do say, the breath goes now, and some say no.
How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!
Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.
I did best when I had least truth for my subjects.