Sonnet Cxcv:

Against mischances I have shut my ear; I will not hear the far-off coming doom Trouble the distance with the sullen boom Of breakers, crested with their plumes of fear. On hidden harms, or dangers that appear, I smile alike. The funeral torch, the tomb, The vast, impenetrable, central gloom Of Death itself, unawed, I ventured near. For I have faith that Love hath such a law, Within himself, that whoso trusts to him, Shall find a clew throughout that labyrinth dim; A silken thread, without a break or flaw, Like his who in the happy gardens saw, At last, the golden apples dance and swim.