The moon has set, and the Pleiades; it is midnight, and time passes, and I sleep alone.

Now the Earth with many flowers puts on her spring embroidery

Love, like a mountain-wind upon an oak, falling upon me, shakes me leaf and bough.

Eros harrows my heart: wild gales sweeping desolate mountains, uprooting oaks.

All the while, believe me, I prayed our night would last twice as long.

Whatever one loves most is beautiful.

Experience shows us Wealth unchaperoned by Virtue is never an innocuous neighbor.