Livet er en uhelbredelig sygdom.
Fill all the glasses there, for why
Should every creature drink but I,
Why, man of morals, tell me why?
Life is an incurable disease.
May I a small house and a large garden have! And a few friends and many books.
Money was made, not to command our will, But all our lawful pleasures to fulfil. Shame and woe to us, if we our wealth obey; The horse doth with the horseman away.
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
Of all the pain, the greatest pain,
It is to love, but in vain.
The thirsty earth soaks up the rain And drinks, and gapes for drink again The plants suck in the earth, and are With constant drinking fresh and fair.
The world's a scene of changes, and to be Constant, in Nature were inconstancy.