Time is flying never to return.
Veiling truth in mystery.
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.
Harsh necessity, and the newness of my kingdom, force me to do such things and to guard my frontiers everywhere.
No day shall erase you from the memory of time
There should be no strife with the vanquished or the dead.