Did I request thee, Maker, from my clay To mould me man? Did I solicit thee From darkness to promote me?
And feel that I am happier than I know.
Contemplation is wisdom's best nurse.
When a king sets himself to bandy against the highest court and residence of all regal powers, he then, in the single person of a man, fights against his own majesty and kingship.
Can any mortal mixture of earth's mould Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?
O sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams That bring to my remembrance from what state I fell, how glorious once above thy sphere.