I Shall Die Reading; Since My Book

Whilst My Physicians By Their Love Are Grown Cosmographers, And I Their Map, Who Lie Flat On This Bed.

All Other Things To Their Destruction Draw, Only Our Love Hath No Decay.

'tis The Year's Midnight, And It Is The Day's.

Death, Thou Shalt Die.

Filled With Her Love, May I Be Rather Grown Mad With Much Heart, Than Idiot With None.