If God be my friend, I cannot be wretched.
Love is a thing that is full of cares and fears.
That, which has not its alternation of rest, will not last long.
Man looks aloft, and with erected eyes Beholds his hereditary skies.
That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.
As the mind of each man is conscious of good or evil, so does he conceive within his breast hope or fear, according to his actions.