That book in many’s eyes doth share the gloryThat in gold clasps locks in the golden story.

Open, locks,Whoever knocks!

For she had eyes and chose me.

Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught

Like madness is the glory of this life As this pomp shows to a little oil and root.

Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to naught.