By John Donne
Another part became the well of sense,
well-arm'd feeling braine, from whence,
Those sinowie strings which do
our bodies tie,
Are raveld out; and fast there by one end,
Did this Soule limbes, these limbes a Soule attend;
And now they
joyn'd; keeping some quality
Of every past shape, she knew treachery,
Rapine, deceit, and lust, and ills enow
To be a woman.
Themech she is now,
Sister and wife to Caine,
Caine that first did plow.