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.

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.

Let not thy divining heart Forethink me any ill; Destiny may take thy part, And may thy fears fulfill.

I will not look upon the quickening sun, But straight her beauty to my sense shall run; The air shall note her soft, the fire most pure; Water suggest her clear, and the earth sure; Time shall not lose our passages.

But think that we Are but turned aside to sleep.

I shall die reading; since my book and a grave are so near.

No man is an island unto himself.