I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse borne away with every breath! Misplaced upon the throne misplaced in life. I know not what I could have been, but feel I am not what I should be let it end.
Accursed be the city where the laws would stifle nature's!
Tyranny is for the worst of treasons.
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Are not the mountains, waves, and skies as much a part of me, as I of them?
'Tis very certain the desire of life prolongs it.