"Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore—but was I sober when I swore?"

"The Potter, having labor’d long and sore In many a Wheel, turns out at last no more Than a broken Pot, which he throws away, And then begins his work again as before."

"And this I know: whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One thing is certain, and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

"Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me—in vain!"

"Better to be intoxicated with wine than with the vain hopes of this world."