Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!
All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers; hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.
You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.
No craving void left aching in the soul.
The enormous faith of many made for one.
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs.