He, that noble prize possessing He that boasts a friend that's true, He whom woman's love is blessing, Let him join the chorus too!
In the ardor of pursuit men soon forget the goal from which they start.
That which is so universal as death must be a benefit.
Even weak men when united are powerful.
The mind is the eyesight of the soul.
Death is a mighty mediator. There all the flames of rage are extinguished, hatred is appeased, and angelic pity, like a weeping sister, bends with gentle and close embrace over the funeral urn.