You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense.

I have unclasp'd to thee the book even of my secret soul.

I have drunk and seen the spider.

Words are easy, like the wind; Faithful friends are hard to find.

Here come the lovers, full of joy and mirth.— Joy, gentle friends! joy and fresh days of love Accompany your hearts!

Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks

And when love speaks, the voice of all the gods makes Heaven drowsy with the harmony.