People’s Good Deeds We Write In Water.

There's No Art To Find The Mind's Construction In The Face.

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?

I Have Sounded The Very Base-string Of Humility.

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She; The Heaven Such Grace Did Lend Her, That She Might Admired Be.