How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!

There is in every miracle a silent chiding of the world, and a tacit reprehension of them who require, or who need miracles.

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

In best understandings, sin began, Angels sinned first, then Devils, and then Man.

The Phoenix riddle hath more wit By us, we two being one, are it. So to one neutral thing both sexes fit, We die and rise the same, and prove Mysterious by this love.

Oh do not die, for I shall hate All women so, when thou art gone.

How much shall I be changed, before I am changed!