And that the easier I may climb the same, I'll build a ladder of heroic wood, Each step embellisht in the purest frame Of coral, born in the Tyrraean flood, That when my wishes have attain'd their will, And all my thoughts have perfected my art, That when my cares have rested on a hill, The only rock of my repining heart, None may condemn me, for I did aspire To virtue clad in constant love's attire. |