That tuneful nymph, the babbling Echo.
Neither can the wave that has passed by be recalled, nor the hour which has passed return again.
Make good use of your time, it flies fast.
Today is truly the Golden Age: gold buys hornor, gold procures love
God gave man an upright countenance to survey the heavens, and to look upward to the stars.
Grief is put to flight and assuaged by generous draughts.