The moon has set In a bank of jet That fringes the Western sky, The pleiads seven Have sunk from heaven And the midnight hurries by; My hopes are flown And, alas! alone On my weary couch I lie.

I know not what to do, my mind is divided

Someone, I tell you, in another time will remember us

Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song!

The evening star Is the most beautiful of all stars

I would not think to touch the sky with two arms

Death is an ill; 'tis thus the Gods decide: / For had death been a boon, the Gods had died.