Moist, with one drop of thy blood, my dry soule
Shall (though she now be in extreme degree
Too stony hard, and yet too fleshly) be
Freed by that drop, from being starved, hard, or foul,
And life, by this d**h abled, shall control
d**h, whom thy d**h slew; nor shall to me
Fear of first or last d**h, bring misery,
If in thy little book my name thou enroll,
Flesh in that long sleep is not putrified,
But made that there, of which, and for which 'twas;
Nor can by other means be glorified.
May then sins sleep, and d**hs soon from me pa**,
That waked from both, I again risen may
Salute the last, and everlasting day.