Night's candles have burned out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountaintops." Hope tinged with melancholy - like life.
Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, where manners ne'er were preached.
It is the bright day that brings forth the adder, and that craves wary walking.
But she makes hungry Where she most satisfies.
Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
Let no such man be trusted.