Money was made, not to command our will, But all our lawful pleasures to fulfill. Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey; The horse doth with the horseman away.

Money was made, not to command our will, But all out lawful pleasure to fulfil. Shame and woe to use, if we our wealth obey; The horse doth with the horseman run away.

Of all ills that one endures,/ hope is a cheap and universal cure.

Though you be absent here, I needs must say / The trees as beauteous are, and flowers as gay, / As ever they were wont to be.

Nothing is there to come, and nothing past, But an eternal Now does always last.

Vain, weak-built isthmus, which dost proudly rise Up between two eternities!