The Sestos and Abydos of her breasts Not of two lovers, but two loves the nests. - John Donne

And what is so intricate, so entangling as death? Who ever got out of a winding sheet?

...but come bad chance
And wee joyne to it our strength
And wee teach it art and length
It selfe o'er us to advance.

And new philosophy calls all in doubt, The element of fire is quite put out; The sun is lost, and the earth, and no man's wit, Can well direct him where to look for it. And freely men confess that this world's spent, When in the planets, and the firmament They seek so many new; then see that this Is crumbled out again to his atomies. 'Tis all in pieces, all coherence gone; All just supply, and all relation: Prince, subject, Father, Son, are things forgot.