The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty.

And storied windows richly dight, Casting a dim religious light. There let the pealing organ blow, To the full-voiced choir below, In service high, and anthems clear As may, with sweetness, through mine ear Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.

Wealth and honours, which most men pursue, easily change masters; they desert to the side which excels in virtue, industry, and endurance of toil, and they abandon the slothful.

Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise

A short retirement urges a sweet return.

Come knit hands, and beat the ground in a light fantastic round

He who reigns within himself and rules passions, desires, and fears is more than a king.