Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!

But how carve way i' the life that lies before, If bent on groaning ever for the past?

Sappho survives, because we sing her songs; And Eschylus, because we read his plays!

Love is the energy of life.

All June I bound the rose in sheaves, Now, rose by rose, I strip the leaves.

Go practice if you please with men and women: leave a child alone for Christ's particular love's sake!

Graved inside of it, "Italy".