By John Donne.

O blessed glorious Trinity, Bones to Philosphy, but milk to faith, Which, as wise serpents, diversly, Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath, As you distinguishld undistinct By power, love, knowledge bee, Give mee a such selfe different instinct Of these; let all mee elemented bee, Of power, to love, to know, you unnumbred three.

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