Where the bee sucks, there suck I
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends and rights,
Who having stumbled into truth,
Have made such a sinner of all these memories,
To the closeness of the heart I resign my touch,
That my love of books did end in love,
And all my bones were filled with heavenly aches,
Here, where everything is advantageous to life,
As was foretold, all spirits find a gorgeous palace
Under the blossoms which hang upon the boughs of time,
I, in home-keeping youth, choose the wisdom that is to love.
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