Adversity is the first path to truth.
Where are the forms the sculptor's soul hath seized? In him alone, Can nature show as fair?
My boat is on the shore, And my bark is on the sea.
You gave me the key to your heart, my love, then why did you make me knock?
Know ye the land where the cypress and myrtle Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime? Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle, Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime!
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.