God affords no man the comfort, the false comfort of Atheism: He will not allow a pretending Atheist the power to flatter himself, so far, as to seriously think there is no God.
My love though silly is more brave.
I long to talk with some old lover's ghost, Who died before the god of love was born.
Reason is our soul's left hand, Faith her right, By these we reach divinity
All our life is but a going out to the place of execution, to death.
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.