Twice or thrice had I loved thee, Before I knew thy face or name; So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be

And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee

When I died last, and, Dear, I die / As often as from thee I go, / Though it be but an hour ago, / And lovers' hours be full eternity.

Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail.

Be thine own palace, or the world's thy jail

And the LORD hath given a commandment concerning thee, that no more of thy name be sown: out of the house of thy gods will I cut off the graven image and the molten image: I will make thy grave; for thou art vile.