I rejoiced in my progress, mourned my weaknesses, and commiserated the universal instability of human conduct.

And tears are heard within the harp I touch.

Wanting is not enough, long and you attain it.

I desire that death find me ready and writing, or if it please Christ, praying and intears.

Often on earth the gentlest heart is fain To feed and banquet on another's woe.

Where are the numerous constructions erected by Agrippa, of which only the Pantheon remains? Where are the splendorous palaces of the emperors?

You keep to your own ways and leave mine to me.