Nothing under heaven so strongly doth allure the sense of man, and all his mind possess, as beauty's love.
Hard it is to teach the old horse to amble anew.
Gather therefore the Rose, whilst yet is prime, For soon comes age, that will her pride deflower: Gather the Rose of love, whilst yet is time.
The noblest mind the best contentment has
Be bold, and everywhere be bold.
Ah when will this long weary day have end, And lend me leave to come unto my love? How slowly do the hours their numbers spend! How slowly does sad Time his feathers move!