Having mourned your sin, for outward Eden lost, find paradise within.

He has not learned the first lesson of life who does not every day surmount a fear.

The people's prayer, the glad diviner's theme, The young men's vision, and the old men's dream!

I never saw any good that came of telling truth.

When he spoke, what tender words he used! So softly, that like flakes of feathered snow, They melted as they fell.

The good we have enjoyed from Heaven's free will, and shall we murmur to endure the ill?

If one must be rejected, one succeed, make him my lord within whose faithful breast is fixed my image, and who loves me best.