We let a river shower its banks with a spirit that invades the people living there, and we protect that river, knowing that without its blessings the people have no source of soul.
The past, the future: - two eternities!
To love you was pleasant enough. And, oh! 'tis delicious to hate you!
This is the right time, and this is the right thing.
Like the stain'd web that whitens in the sun, grow pure by being purely shone upon.
When Time who steals our years away Shall steal our pleasures too, The mem'ry of the past will stay, And half our joys renew.