Oh, this age! How tasteless and ill bred it is!
For the godly poet must be chaste himself, but there is no need for his verses to be so.
It is difficult to lay aside a confirmed passion.
I write of youth, of love, and have access by these to sing of cleanly wantonness.
What a woman says to an eager lover, write it on running water, write it on air.
Better a sparrow, living or dead, than no birdsong at all.