For all we know Of what the blessed do above Is, that they sing, and that they love. While I listen to thy Voice.
Circle are praised, not that abound, In largeness, but the exactly round.
Stronger by weakness, wiser men become.
Under the tropic is our language spoke, And part of Flanders hath receiv'd our yoke.
If its length be not considered a merit, it hath no other.
Others may use the ocean as their road; Only the English make it their abode.