Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss.
O fleeting joys Of Paradise, dear bought with lasting woes!
True it is that covetousness is rich, modesty starves.
For what is glory but the blaze of fame?
The spirits perverse with easy intercourse pass to and fro, to tempt or punish mortals.
The olive grove of Academe, Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long.