There is no health; physicians say that we, at best, enjoy but neutrality.
I shall not live 'till I see God; and when I have seen Him, I shall never die.
Love is a growing, or full constant light; And his first minute, after noon, is night.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy, or charms, can make us sleep as well, And better than thy stroke. Why swell'st thou then?
Send home my long strayed eyes to me, Which (Oh) too long have dwelt on thee.
Sleep with clean hands, either kept clean all day by integrity or washed clean at night by repentance.