Five windows light the cavern’d man: thr’ one he breaths the air;
thr’ one hears music of spheres; thro’ one the eternal vine
flourishes, that he may receive the grapes; thr’one can look
and see the small portions of the eternal word that ever groweth;
thr’ one himself pass out what time he please, but he will not;
for stolen joys are sweet, and bread eaten in secret pleasant.
So sang a Fairy, mocking, as he sat on a streak’d tulip,
thinking none saw him…
the tounchy circumference is in the Outside; in the Inside is formed the selfish center.