In the first is the last, in thy will is my power to believe.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
Such ever was love's way: to rise, it stoops.
What's a man's age? He must hurry more, that's all; Cram in a day, what his youth took a year to hold.
Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds?
Man seeks his own good at the whole world's cost.