Boast not of what thou would'st have done, but do.
Good luck befriend thee, Son; for at thy birth The fairy ladies danced upon the hearth.
Awake, arise or be for ever fall’n.
Come, pensive nun, devout and pure, sober steadfast, and demure, all in a robe of darkest grain, flowing with majestic train.
Govern well thy appetite, lest Sin surprise thee, and her black attendant Death.
The childhood shows the man, as morning shows the day.