The Holy Sonnets, in particular. "Death be not proud", "I am a little world made cunningly" and "Batter my heart" are all lovely, but for some reason it's "Thou hast made me" that keeps coming back to me. Particularly the last four lines:
"But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour myself I can sustain;
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart."
Yeah. I know how he feels. I really do. The subtle foe might be a little different in my case, but the sentiment is definitely one I can get behind.