So, So, Break Off This Last Lamenting

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

So In A Voice, So In A Shapeless Flame, Angels Affect Us Often.

From Rest And Sleep, Which But Thy Pictures Be, Much Pleasure, Then From Thee Much More, Must Flow, And Soonest Our Best Men With Thee Do Go, Rest Of Their Bones, And Soul's Delivery.

On A Huge Hill, Cragged, And Steep, Truth Stands, And Hee That Will Reach Her, About Must, And About Must Goo.

Oh Do Not Die, For I Shall Hate All Women So, When Thou Art Gone.