Full nakedness! All my joys are due to thee, as souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be, to taste whole joys.

All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despair, law, chance, hath slain.

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.

If I lose at play, I blaspheme; if my fellow loses, he blasphemes. So, God is always the loser.

Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

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.

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?