But O the truth, the truth. The many eyes That look on it The diverse things they see.
Who rises from prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
The debts we owe ourselves are the hardest to pay.
The man who has no mind of his own lends it to the priests.
There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.
Prepare, You lovers, to know Love a thing of moods: Not like hard life, of laws.