Let us go singing as far as we go: the road will be less tedious.
Endure and save yourselves for happier times.
Fury itself supplies arms.
No day shall erase you from the memory of time
I feel again a spark of that ancient flame.
In youth alone, unhappy mortals live; But, ah! the mighty bliss is fugitive: Discolour'd sickness, anxious labour, come, And age, and death's inexorable doom.