'But can I suppose that to sit down and read all day like a monk, would bring me nearer to the thing I want ?' He turned over the volume half thinking, half brooding.
'I will look again,' he thought, 'at the verses which that day my father gave me to read.

Truly I did not well understand them.' Once more he read the poem through.

It closed with these lines: So far this LIGHT the Raies extends, As that no place IT comprehends.
So deepe this SOUND, that though it speake, It cannot by a Sence so weake Be entertain'd.

A REDOLENT GRACE The Aire blowes not from place to place.
A pleasant TASTE, of that delight It doth confound all appetite.
A strict EMBRACE, not felt, yet leaves That vertue, where it takes it cleaves.
This LIGHT, this SOUND, this SAVOURING GRACE, This TASTEFULL SWEET, this STRICT EMBRACE, No PLACE containes, no EYE can see, My GOD is; and there's none but Hee.
'I HAVE gained something,' he crie aloud.

'I understand it now--at least I think I do.