(I have not put the whole part here, because it is very long.
I have been studying how I may compare
This prison, where I live unto the world:
And for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
And these same thoughts people this little world,
In humours like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,
As thoughts of things divine are intermix'd
With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word:
As thus,--"Come, little ones;" and then again-
"It is as hard to come as for a camel
To thread the postern of a needles eye."
Thoughts tending to ambition they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;