"The wise man is he who enjoys the present, for the future is uncertain and the past is gone."

"Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash the Body whence the Life has died, And in a winding-sheet of Vine-leaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Garden-side."

"Earth then an endless Tabernacle drew Of Him whose coming none can tell, nor who, To fill the Bowl where now we pour the Wine, Before we too into the Dust shall strew."

"Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears To-day of past Regrets and future Fears: To-morrow!—Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years."

"Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!"