,That age is best which is the first

;When youth and blood are warmer

,But being spent, the worse and worst

.Times still succeed the former

,Now I am a lake, a woman bends over me

.Searching my reaches for what she really is

.I see her back, and reflect it faithfully

.I am important to her. She comes and goes

.Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish 

                          ,when my love swears that she is made of truth

.I do believe her, though I know she lies

,Therefore I lie with her and she with me

.and in our faults by lies we flattered be 

;All mankind is of one author and is one volume

When one man dies, one chapter is not torn out

;of the book, but translated into a better language 

.And every chapter must be so translated

                                              Perhaps he for whom this bell tolls may be so ill as that

he knows not it tolls for him; and perhaps I may think

myself so much better than I am, as that they who are

about me and see my state may have caused it to toll

.for me, and I know not that