Prayers

When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To several subjects. Heaven hath my empty words,
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
Anchors on Isabel.

Blood, thou art blood.
Let’s write “good angel” on the devil’s horn

God in my mouth,
As if I did but only chew His name,
And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
Of my conception.
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