Without outward declarations, who can conclude an inward love?

This only is charity, to do all, all that we can.

Oft from new truths, and new phrase, new doubts grow, As strange attire aliens the men we know.

Since you would save none of me, I bury some of you.

And new Philosophy calls all in doubt, the element of fire is quite put out; the Sun is lost, and the earth, and no mans wit can well direct him where to look for it.

I neglect God and his angles for the noise of a fly, for the rattling of a coach, for the whining of a door.

Twice or thrice had I loved thee before I knew thy face or name, so in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, angels affect us oft, and worshiped be.