John Donne. (№ 244130)

Hurry, Madam! I'm shaking,
As a woman in labor, in agony I lay;
There is no greater test for a soldier
To stand without a fight against the foe.
Away the belt! Heavenly wrap it,
In which the beautiful world concluded.
Take off the bib, embroidered stars,
That was from the arrogant eyes you protection;
Loosen the laces! For us
The chimes struck the coveted hour.
<...>
My hands-the Wanderers give a patent
To explore the whole continent;
You, I, like America, open,
Humble and inhabit one another.
<...>
Come forth in the nakedness of my eyes:
As the souls - the burden of bodies and bodies
You must reset the load of clothes
In order to taste the bliss.