Let them bestow on every airth a limb;
Open all my veins, that I may swim
To thee my Maker, in that crimson lake;
Then place my par-boiled head upon a stake;

Scatter my ashes, strew them in the air:
Lord since thou know'st where all these atoms are,
I'm hopeful thou'lt recover once my dust,
And confident thou'lt raise me with the just.