The fool who persists in his folly will become wise.

The generations of men run on in the tide of time, but leave their destined lineaments permanent for ever and ever.

My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv'n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.

Mysteries are not to be solved. They eye goes blind when it only wants to see why.

Life delights in life.

Can I see another's woe, and not be in sorrow too? Can I see another's grief, and not seek for kind relief?

Man was made for joy and woe, and when this we rightly know through the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, a clothing for the soul to bind.