Upon the road of my life,
  Passed me many fair creatures,
  Clothed all in white, and radiant.
 To one, finally, I made speech:
   “Who art thou?”
 But she, like the others,
   Kept cowled her face,
   And answered in haste, anxiously,
   “I am good deed, forsooth;
   You have often seen me.”
 “Not uncowled,” I made reply.
   And with rash and strong hand,
   Though she resisted,
   I drew away the veil
   And gazed at the features of vanity.
 She, shamefaced, went on;
   And after I had mused a time,
 I said of myself,
   “Fool!”