Book II, 62: On the Sabbath

Away my thoughts: Away my words, my deeds;
Away, what ever nourishes and feeds
My frayle delights: Presume not to approach
Into my presence; dare not once t'encroach
Vpon the hallowed Temple of my Soule;
Ye are not for this Day, y'are all too foule:
Abide yee with the Asse, till I goe yonder,
And cleave the Isaac of my heart in sunder:
I must goe sacrifice: I must goe pray,
I must performe my holy vowes, to day:
Tempt not my tender frailty: I enjoyne
Your needfull absence; y'are no longer mine:
But if it may not be, that we must sever
Our yoakt affections, and not part for ever;
Yet give me leave, without offence, to borrow,
At least, this day, although we meet to morrow.