’Tis bread will gain me entrance where my hopes take rise.
From bread, from water, both, as angels, far I stroll;
And, following the spheres, around this centre roll!
Without an object none will toil on earth, you see,
Save true and godly lovers. They’re from motives free!”560
Th’ Infinite’s lovers finite’s worshippers are not.
Who seek the finite lose th’ Infinite, as we wot.
When finite with the finite falls in love, perforce,
His loved one soon returns to her infinite source.
A beard that puts itself into another’s grasp,