Why dost thou not thyself reveal to men

The sources of this light of thine, which streams

Forth from thy soul with such resplendent ray?

Felix Balde:

A fancy-monger and a man of dreams

They call me, who are well-disposed to me:

But others think of me as some dull fool

Who, all untaught of them, doth follow out

His own peculiar bent of foolishness.

Retardus: