Batter my heart, three-personed God, for you

As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;

That I may rise and stand, o’erthrow me and bend

Your force to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurped town to another due,

Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.

Reason, your viceroy in me, should defend,

But is captived and proves weak or untrue.

Yet dearly I love you and would be loved fain,

But I am betrothed to your enemy.

Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthral me, never shall be free,

Not ever chaste except you ravish me.

John Donne (1572-1631).