When I waked, I cried to dream again

I am joined with no foot land-rakers, no long-staff, sixpenny strikers, none of these mad, mustachio purple-hued maltworms, but with nobility and tranquillity.

But the strong base and building of my love is as the very centre of the earth, drawing all things to it.

Tis the times' plague, when madmen lead the blind.

When devils will the blackest sins put on They do suggest at first with heavenly shows

In thy face I see the map of honour, truth and loyalty.

What is the city but the people?