If ancient tales say true, nor wrong these holy men.
A feast not profuse but elegant; more of salt [refinement] than of expense.
Have not all past human beings parted, And must not all the present, one day part?
I deny nothing, but doubt everything.
Earth! render back from out thy breast A remnant of our Spartan dead! Of the three hundred grant but three, To make a new Thermopylรฆ!
There's naught, no doubt, so much the spirit calms as rum and true religion.