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

I know not what to do, my mind is divided

He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.

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

Once again love drives me on, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet creature against which nothing can be done.

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

I took my lyre and said: come now, my heavenly tortoise shell: become a speaking instrument.