Alas! the fleeting years, how they roll on!
"Painters and poets," you say, "have always had an equal license in bold invention." We know; we claim the liberty for ourselves and in turn we give it to others.
That destructive siren, sloth, is ever to be avoided.
Ah Fortune, what god is more cruel to us than thou! How thou delightest ever to make sport of human life!
In the word of no master am I bound to believe.
There are words and accents by which this grief can be assuaged, and the disease in a great measure removed.