Acquaintance I would have, but when it depends; not on number, but the choice of friends.
Hope! fortune's cheating lottery; when for one prize an hundred blanks there be!
Fill the bowl with rosy wine, around our temples roses twine, And let us cheerfully awhile, like wine and roses, smile.
God the first garden made, and the first city Cain.
Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!
The present is an eternal now.