War begets quiet, quiet idleness, idleness disorder, disorder ruin; likewise ruin order, order virtue, virtue glory, and good fortune.

Oh, doughty sons of Hungary! May all success Attend and bless Your warlike ironmongery!

War begets quiet, quiet idleness, idleness disorder, disorder ruin; likewise ruin order, order virtue, virtue glory, and good fortune.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields To wayward winter reckoning yields; A honey tongue, a heart of gall, Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

But true love is a durable fire, In the mind ever burning, Never sick, never old, never dead, From itself never turning.

In a letter to a friend the thought is often unimportant, and the feeling, if it be only a desire to entertain him, every thing.

Use your youth so that you may have comfort to remember it when it has forsaken you, and not sigh and grieve at the account thereof.