The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo.

If thou art rich, thou art poor; for, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, thou bearest thy heavy riches but a journey, and death unloads thee.

My love is deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, both are infinite.

Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps.

Thus die I, thus, thus, thus. Now am I dead, Now am I fled; My soul is in the sky: Tongue, lose thy light; Moon take thy flight. Now die, die, die, die, die.

What made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee