And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, Is quick and transient,- comes, and lo! is gone, While Northern thought is slow and durable.
Any nose may ravage with impunity a rose.
And gain is gain, however small.
Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And Eschylus, because we read his plays!
Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost.
'Tis only when they spring to Heaven that angels reveal themselves to you.