What To Ourselves In Passion We Propose,

Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make Thee Believe I Love.

O Me, You Juggler, You Canker-blossom, You Thief Of Love!

I Have Pursued Her, As Love Hath Pursued Me

I Have Lived Long Enough. My Way Of Life Is To Fall Into The Sere, The Yellow Leaf, And That Which Should Accompany Old Age, As Honor, Love, Obedience, Troops Of Friends I Must Not Look To Have.

Cease Thy Counsel, For Thy Words Fall Into My Ears As Priceless As Water Into A Seive.