Sweet Food Of Sweetly Uttered Knowledge.

My Thoughts, Imprisoned In My Secret Woes, With Flamy Breaths Do Issue Oft In Sound.

Music, I Say, The Most Divine Striker Of The Senses.

Poetry, A Speaking Picture To Teach And Delight.

So, Then, The Best Of The Historian Is Subject To The Poet; For Whatsoever Action Or Faction, Whatsoever Counsel, Policy, Or War-stratagem The Historian Is Bound To Recite, That May The Poet, If He List, With His Imitation Make His Own, Beautifying It Both For Further Teaching And More Delighting, As It Pleaseth Him; Having All, From Dante’s Heaven To His Hell, Under The Authority Of His Pen.

You Will Never Live To My Age Without You Keep Yourselves In Breath With Exercise, And In Heart With Joyfulness.