A land of levity is a land of guilt.

The spirit walks of every day deceased.

Give me, indulgent gods with mind serene, And guiltless heart, to range the sylvan scene, No splendid poverty, no smiling care, No well-bred hate, or servile grandeur, there.

By night an atheist half-believes in God.

Beautiful as sweet, And young as beautiful, and soft as young, And gay as soft, and innocent as gay!

We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile - The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry

The soul of man was made to walk the skies.