Then Love-devouring Death Do What He Dare.

Four Days Will Quickly Steep Themselves In Nights; Four Nights Will Quickly Dream Away The Time; And Then The Moon, Like To A Silver Bow New Bent In Heaven, Shall Behold The Night Of Our Solemnities.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.

Words Are Easy, Like The Wind; Faithful Friends Are Hard To Find.

And When Love Speaks, The Voice Of All The Gods Makes Heaven Drowsy With The Harmony.

Time Is The King Of Men.