So I find every pleasant spot In which we two were wont to meet, The field, the chamber, and the street, For all is dark where thou art not

Let the great world spin for ever down the ringing grooves of change.

And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!

The Gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.

Shall love be blamed for want of faith?

Sweet is true love, though given in vain.

Love is the only gold.