Time ... thou ceaseless lackey to eternity.

Look how the world's poor people are amazed at apparitions, signs and prodigies!

These words are razors to my wounded heart.

That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; What hath quenched them hath given me fire.

You are a lover. Borrow Cupid's wings and soar with them above a common bound.

Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: Who cover faults, at last shame them derides.

I go, I go, look how I go, swifter than an arrow from a bow