Though one were fair as roses His beauty clouds and closes.
When fate has allowed to any man more than one great gift, accident or necessity seems usually to contrive that one shall encumber and impede the other.
Despair the twin-born of devotion.
Today will die tomorrow.
The sun is all about the world we see, the breath and strength of every spring.
I am tired of tears and laughter, And men that laugh and weep Of what may come hereafter For men that sow to reap: I am weary of days and hours, Blown buds of barren flowers, Desires and dreams and powers And everything but sleep.