You who love wild passions, flee the holy austerity of my pleasures. All here breathes of God, peace and truth.
I loved you when you were unfaithful; what would I have done if you were true?
Can a faith that does nothing be called sincere?
Innocence has nothing to dread.
The day is not purer than the depths of my heart.
Do you think you can be righteous and holy with impunity?