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. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show To move, but doth if th' other do. And though it in the center sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Suth wilt thou be to me, who must Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I began.

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.

Keep us, Lord, so awake in the duties of our calling that we may sleep in thy peace and wake in thy glory.

More than kisses, letters mingle souls.

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

Death comes equally to us all, and makes us all equal when it comes.

To roam Giddily, and be everywhere but at home, Such freedom doth a banishment become.